CHAPTER 84

HELENA'S POV

"Five more minutes" turned into thirty.

I didn't move from Jarrett's side, I couldn't.

The gold had left me, but the memory of it was still under my skin, buzzing like a hornet's nest. Healing him had felt like pulling fire through my ribs. Sharing it with him felt like finally exhaling after 26 years.

His breathing was even now and deep. The cut on his chest was pink and closed. It would be scary. Good. I wanted something of me on him that wasn't Crown or prophecy.

The door didn't knock again. It just opened and Silas stepped in.

The old omega from Ashen Peak came in smelling like ink, dust, and panic. He had a heavy book in his arm bound in wolf-hide that had gone stiff with age.

"You're both up," he said. He didn't sound relieved. He sounded angry. "Good. You need to see this."

Jarrett sat up slowly, he didn't wince as he got up, I watched his face, just the tightness around his eyes that meant his ribs still hurt.

"What is it?" I asked.

Silas dropped the ledger on the foot of the bed and dust poofed up.

"Your grandfather's real journal," Silas said. "Not the ones the Council kept in the vault. The one he hid. The one he wrote for you."

Jarrett's head snapped up. "For me?"

"For both of you," Silas corrected. He flipped it open with shaking hands. The pages were full of cramped writing, diagrams, and brown old blood. "He didn't call it a plan. He called it sabotage."

My stomach dropped.

I stood and the room tilted. Jarrett's hand shot out and caught my wrist.

"Read it," I said.

Silas cleared his throat.

_"Day 4, Winter, Year 1 of the Treaty. They think we split the Crown to stop war. We didn't. We split it to stop her. To stop what she would become if it stayed whole. Gold for power. Silver for control. Separate, they burn slowly. Together, they burn out the bearer in a month. That is the truth Lucian will never tell her."_

I felt Jarrett's grip tighten on me.

Silas kept reading.

_"I placed Jarrett in her path. Not to control her. To anchor her. Varek's blood is old. It doesn't amplify the Crown. It dampens it. If he stays close, if he chooses her, the Crown won't eat her alive. If he leaves, she dies. If he dies, she dies. It was never about the prophecy. It was about keeping her alive long enough to choose to break it."_

The room went silent.

"So that's it," Jarrett said quietly in a flat voice. "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. I was bred to."

"No," I said quickly.

Both men looked at me.

"No," I repeated. I pulled my hand from his and stepped away from the bed. The floor was cold through my socks. "That's what the ledger says. That's what he wrote. But that's not what happened."

"Helena..." Jarrett started.

"Shut up," I snapped. The gold flared under my jaw for half a second but I forced it down. "He wrote that. He planned that. But you didn't know and when you took Lucian's blade for me, that wasn't in any ledger."

Jarrett was staring at me like I'd slapped him.

Silas shut the book. "There's more."

"Of course there is," I said.

Silas turned to the last page. There was a single line, written in fresher but shaky different ink.

_"If you're reading this, Helena, it means I failed. It means Lucian won, or I did, or both. Break the Crown, don't be queen. Be free. And Jarrett - if you're reading this too - thank you. For choosing her when it wasn't in the script."_

My throat closed.

Jarrett stood slowly like he was afraid his ribs would split again. He came to me but didn't touch me, he just stood close enough that I could feel his heat.

"So what now?" he asked me.

"Now?" I looked at the ledger, the blood and at the last line. "Now we burn it."

Silas blinked. "Burn it?"

"The plan. The prophecy. The idea that we were ever anything but a choice." I took the ledger from him. It was heavier than it looked. "He wanted me to be free. So let's be free."

I walked out of the room before either of them could stop me.

Down the tunnel. Past guards who snapped to attention and then relaxed when they saw it was just me. Past the kitchen where cooks were making food for the packs. Past the stairs that led to the shrine.

I didn't stop until I was at the lake.

The kids were gone. The sun was low. The ice was empty except for one puck and one stick, exactly where we'd left them.

I knelt down and set the ledger down on the ice.

Jarrett came up behind me. I heard him approaching but I didn't turn to acknowledge him.

"Helena," he said.

"I don't want to be his design," I whispered. "And I don't want you to be his anchor. I want you because I chose you. On the ice. In the shrine. When you were bleeding."

He knelt next to me.

"Then choose me now," he said. "Without the Crown and without the ledger."

I looked at the book. At 26 years of manipulation and fear and good intentions that smelled like rot.

I lifted my hand and gold flickered into a spark, instantly, the ledger caught on fire.

It burned slowly page by page, the Ink curling black. The wolf-hide smoked and then turned to ash that the wind took across the lake.

Jarrett watched it with me.

When the last page was gone, I picked up the puck and tossed it to him.

"Tomorrow," I said. "Same time with no teams."

He caught it. "Same team."

"Same team," I repeated.

Behind us, the shrine stood dark. In front of us, the lake was just ice again.