Chapter 10 I'LL REMEMBER THIS

~BERNARD POV~

Mark's voice still pulsed in my skull like a war drum, relentless and deep. "End the world for her."

He didn't have to say it. I already had.

Although she said little,her silence screams louder than any accusation. Seeing her at that moment as she cracked, right there in the courtyard, her shoulders entering and bending inward, eyes moving as if trying to escape a truth too heavy.

She thought I'd betrayed her.

The pain settled down on my chest like a pressure I couldn't name. Her blame was a blade, and it had found its way straight to my chest leaving its mark.

But I didn't regret bringing her here. Whatever shadows hunted her beyond these walls, I'd thrown myself between her and them, consequences be damned. If that made me the villain in her story... so be it.

The corridor was empty now, barely lit and cold against my back as I leaned into the stone. My hands, wrapped tight behind me. I kept my breaths steady, counting them like I could breathe sense back into my head.

Four in. Four out.

I'd told her everything tonight, about the Trials, the purpose behind them, the pain designed not to destroy but to awaken. She had listened, quiet and wide-eyed, her expression unreadable.

And then... she smiled.

Not the kind she used like armor. Not the one that carried sarcasm like a blade. No, this one had been soft. Honest. It knocked the ground out from under me.

I hadn't realized how starved I was for that version of her until she gave it freely.

Then she said goodnight.

Simple words. Gentle. Brushed from her lips like a feather falling.

And I...

I turned.

Walked away before the dam cracked.

Because if I had stayed longer in the warmth of that smile, I would have crossed a line I swore not to.

I wanted to touch her-gods, I needed to. Not to claim. Not to possess. Just to anchor myself to something real. Something alive.

But she wasn't ready.

And truthfully? Neither was I.

So I kept walking.

Each step pulled at the thread inside me, unraveling slowly. Her voice haunted the silence behind me. That look in her eyes, wounded and wondering, seared into my memory.

I pressed a hand to my chest, just beneath the collar of my shirt, trying to smother the pull she had over me.

It didn't work.

She was everywhere.

And I feared the day she'd look at me again-not with blame-but with belief.

Because on that day, I wouldn't walk away.

I wouldn't be able to.

~HELENA POV~

As I stared out into the dark, the curtain slipped between my hands. Nothing but a quiet stretch of night met me, no footsteps returning, not even a sound.

"Why did he leave?" I whispered, the words slipping past my lips before I could swallow them down.

There was no one to answer. Just the wind brushing against the glass, cool and light.

I stepped back from the window, slow, as if afraid the floor might crack and break whatever piece of me was still holding on. My hand moved over the side table, grazed the chipped wood, but I didn't sit.

His boots had been there once. Scuffed. Mud on the heel. Always a mess. And I used to complain.

Now I would've given anything to see them again.

I wrapped my arms around myself. "Was it something I said?" My voice cracked, barely a sound. "I told him the truth. Just once."

I sank onto the edge of the bed. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, twisting, untwisting. "Was honesty too much?" I asked in silence. "Too heavy?"

The door hadn't slammed when he left. Just clicked shut-soft, deliberate. Like the end of a story he no longer wanted to read.

My breath caught. I pressed a palm to my chest.

"He didn't even look back," I murmured. "Not once."

The air wasn't light like it was trying to smother the questions before they reached the walls. I sat there, motionless. My legs folded, elbows braced against my knees, chin sinking into my hands.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time didn't seem to care.

Then-I moved.

Not much. Just a stretch, a quiet rise to my feet. I crossed to the dresser. My fingers brushed over the wooden frame, stopping on a folded note tucked beneath a ceramic dish.

It wasn't his handwriting.

Mama's.

The edges were worn soft from reading.

"Don't just survive, sweetheart. Shape it. Own it."

I held the note to my chest, eyes fluttering shut.

In the stillness, I started to move. Folded the blanket. Straightened the books. Picked up a fallen comb and dragged it through my tangled hair.

I whispered, steady this time, "You are not what they leave behind."

I tucked the note into my pocket and glanced at the ceiling.

"Mom. Dad." My voice trembled, but it held. "I'm still here."

Oh well, that's just my imagination, I wish I had a piece of her writing.

No thunder. No voice from the clouds. Just the creak of the house settling, the hush of the world breathing.

But inside me, something eased.

And for the first time in days, I didn't flinch at the quiet.

Five days in, I found myself in the palace gym. My arms trembled as I dragged myself up on the pull-up bar, again. Sweat dripped down my back, soaking into the hem of my tank top. My palms stung, raw from repetition.

Then something shifted.

Air. Energy. That low, humming prickle that only ever meant one thing-wolves.

I dropped from the bar with a soft thud. My boots barely made a sound, but my pulse roared.

Footsteps behind me.

So this was the reason he left!

"Look who we have here."

The voice sliced through the space, coated in amusement. Dane.

I turned slowly, spine straight. And there they were, Dane and David, side by side like a bad memory.

"Nice to see you too," I said, voice calm, eyes flat. "Dane. David."

David's smirk curled at the edge. "You remember our names. I'm touched."

"Hard to forget what sticks to your shoes."

Dane chuckled, crossing the room with casual arrogance. "Still mouthy."

My fingers twitched by my side, aching to curl into fists. "Still wasting oxygen."

David took a step closer. Just one. But it was enough to make the room feel smaller.

His tone was syrupy. "You've got fire. Always did. I missed it."

"I didn't," I said.

He laughed. "Ah, the sting. That hasn't changed either."

His hand lifted-hovering, teasing.

I didn't move. "Touch me," I said, voice low, "and you'll leave here with fewer fingers."

His eyes lit with something darker. "Easy, kitten. Just talking."

"Don't call me that."

He leaned in slightly, breath warm. "You've grown into the claws, haven't you?"

"Step back, David."

He did. Eventually. But the grin stayed.

Dane settled on a bench, arms folded like a prince surveying the poor. "So. The little exiled brat made it into the trials. You must've begged pretty hard."

I ignored the bait. "Or maybe I earned it. Unlike you."

His jaw twitched.

David whistled low. "Still proud. Even with no one left to cheer for you."

My muscles tensed.

"Oh, she didn't hear?" he asked, glancing at Dane with exaggerated surprise. "Should I tell her?"

Silence stretched.

Then-he spoke.

"I heard about the crash. Your parents. Gone just like that." His fingers snapped. "No more family names to hide behind."

I stood still. The words landed heavily, but I didn't let them bruise.

He waited for a reaction. I gave him none.

"I'm sorry," David said, though the smirk betrayed him. "It must be lonely now."

Lonely.

That word used to scare me. Not anymore.

I stared at him, gaze level, voice even. "You're right. There's no one left to protect me."

A pause.

"And that should terrify you."

Dane stiffened slightly, but David's eyes sparkled with challenge. "Why? Because now you've got nothing to lose?"

I stepped forward, slow and deliberate. "Because now I've got nothing holding me back."

That wiped the grin clean off his face.

Dane exhaled, forced a laugh. "Cute. Really. But all this bravado? It'll break in the ring. We'll see who's still standing when blood hits the sand."

I tilted my head. "You think this is still about the ring?"

"You think it isn't?"

David's tone dropped. "This isn't a game. This is a reckoning."

The gym felt colder suddenly.

"And you," he added, "you're just one more name we get to erase."

For a breath, I didn't move.

Then I smiled.

"I'll remember this," I said softly. "Every word. Every laugh. Every face."

David blinked.

I stepped past him without hesitation, shoulder brushing him as I walked by. The scent of aggression and sweat lingered, but I didn't stop. Didn't turn.

Because I wasn't that girl anymore.

Not the one who once hid behind locked doors. Not the one who flinched when whispers followed her through the halls. Not the one who cried in the storage room while the world laughed outside.

She died with the last apology I ever gave.

I paused at the exit, hand on the cold steel handle.

"You should've stayed out of this," Dane said behind me.

I looked over my shoulder, just once.

"No," I said. "You should've stayed forgotten."

Then I left.

And this time, I didn't look back.