CHAPTER 8

Helena

I didn't remember leaving the bedroom. One second I was staring at the empty balcony, and the next I was standing in Jarrett's massive kitchen with a knife clutched in my shaking hand.

I knew what I had seen. The glowing eyes, the massive silhouette, the feeling of being watched. And worst of all, the way my scar had burned. It was still throbbed now, a constant reminder.

I tightened my grip on the knife. Maybe I was losing my mind. Maybe everyone had been right all these years. Maybe grief and trauma had finally broken something inside me.

The thought barely formed before footsteps echoed through the penthouse. I spun around, raising the knife instantly.

Jarrett froze, neither of us moved. His eyes dropped to the blade, then slowly returned to my face.

"What happened?" He asked.

I swallowed hard. "I saw it."

His expression sharpened. "Saw what?"

I almost laughed. Almost. Because I was so tired, so exhausted from people pretending I was crazy. "You know exactly what."

The silence stretched. Then something changed in his face.

The skepticism I'd expected never appeared. Instead he took a careful step forward. "Tell me exactly what happened."

The words caught me off guard. I blinked. "What?"

"Everything," he said in a voice that was steady and controlled. "Start from the beginning."

For the first time in eight years, someone was actually asking me what happened instead of telling me I was wrong.

I lowered the knife slightly. Only slightly. "There was something on the balcony."

Jarrett remained silent, listening. So I told him about waking up, the feeling of being watched, the figure standing outside, the glowing eyes, the way it had disappeared.

By the time I finished, my breathing had become uneven again. The memory still felt too vivid.

Jarrett didn't speak immediately. His gaze was distant, as he thought and processed what I'd said.

Then a memory surfaced. One I hadn't wanted to revisit. "The crash..." I let out.

His eyes snapped to mine. "What about it?"

I wrapped my arms around myself. "The creatures. After the accident." The words tasted bitter.

His jaw tightened. I noticed immediately.

I told him everything. And then I repeated the words that had haunted me since waking up: "She's carrying it."

The moment the sentence left my mouth, the color drained from Jarrett's face. I saw real fear Immediately that caused my stomach to drop.

"What does that mean?" I asked him.

When his eyes met mine, I thought he might actually answer. Instead his expression closed off. "Nothing."

My anger surged. "Don't say that." I pointed the knife at him again. "Don't stand there and tell me it means nothing."

"It isn't that simple."

I laughed harshly. "There you go again with the secrets just like you had disappeared."

The knife trembled in my grip.

His expression darkened. "I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection." The lie sounded ridiculous the moment it left my mouth. We both knew it.

Jarrett exhaled heavily. Then he said the last thing I expected. "Werewolves are real."

The knife slipped from my fingers and clattered against the marble floor.

My chest tightened, for several seconds I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move.

I stared at him, waiting for the joke, the punchline. It never came. My heart pounded violently. "No." The word emerged as a whisper.

Jarrett didn't take it back. He was serious about what he'd said.

My entire body began trembling. The room suddenly felt too small, too hot, too suffocating. "I knew it." My voice cracked. "I knew it."

Eight years of therapists, doctors, counselors.

Eight years of people telling me I imagined everything and people insisting wolves couldn't exist.

That my memories weren't real. But they were real.

The validation should have felt good. Instead rage exploded inside me. "You lied to me."

Jarrett's expression hardened. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?" I took a step toward him. "Tell me." My eyes burned. "Tell me why everyone spent years making me feel insane."

My palm connected with his chest, hard. "You knew." Another shove. "You knew. You let me believe I was crazy."

Pain flashed through his eyes. "I never wanted that."

I laughed bitterly. "Congratulations." The tears finally came. "You got it anyway."

Jarrett then said something that froze me in place. "The wolves didn't kill your parents."

Everything in the room stopped including my heartbeat. "What?"

His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. "They didn't."

I shook my head. "No." The word coming out louder, and sharper. Because if that wasn't true, then what had I been holding onto all these years? What had I built my grief around? "What are you saying?"

Jarrett hesitated. The hesitation terrified me. Then he finally spoke. "Your parents were investigating something. Before they died. They were looking into powerful wolves."

Confusion twisted through me. "My parents?"

He nodded. "They found something they weren't supposed to find."

None of this made sense. My parents weren't investigators. They weren't hunters. They were normal people. Weren't they? "What did they find?"

Jarrett's expression darkened. "I don't know everything." I immediately knew he was lying. Or at least withholding something.

Before I could push further, the penthouse intercom buzzed. The sound shattered the moment. Jarrett cursed quietly.

A few minutes later the elevator doors opened and Victor stepped out.

The second I saw his face, dread settled in my stomach. He looked exhausted, defeated. His tie was crooked, dark circles sat beneath his eyes. Nothing good was coming.

Victor didn't bother with greetings. "There's been a vote."

My heart sank. No. No. No. The answer was already written across his face.

"The Board voted unanimously. You're officially suspended from company operations pending investigation."

The room spun. Everything I'd built was gone just like that.

I sank into the nearest chair. I couldn't feel my hands anymore.

Victor continued speaking but the words barely registered. None of it mattered. Brent was winning. Again.

The silence stretched. Then Victor cleared his throat. "I found something else."

I looked up slowly. His expression had become even grimmer. "About Brent."

My stomach twisted. "What now?"

Victor exchanged a glance with Jarrett. A look I didn't understand. Then he finally spoke. "The Icy Bears contract."

My pulse quickened. "What about it?"

Victor inhaled deeply. "It was fake."

The room went silent. "What?"

"The contract doesn't exist."

Confusion flooded me. "But he said—"

"I know what he said," Victor cut in, rubbing his forehead. "But the team confirmed they never signed him."

Cold dread crawled down my spine. If Brent wasn't joining the Icy Bears, then where was he?

Victor's next words made my blood run cold. "Nobody knows where Brent is."

I stared at him. "What do you mean?"

His expression tightened. "We can't find him. Helena..." My heart hammered against my ribs. "Brent Langley has disappeared."