CHAPTER 9: THE NECRO-WOLF'S BARGAIN

I don’t sleep after Kain’s lab. I can’t.

Every time I close my eyes, I see that 1% future: me pregnant, Rook alive, a crown in my hands that used to belong to Kain. In 99 other futures, someone I care about dies screaming.

The bottle Kain gave me sits on my bedside table. Three drops to fake Mira’s death. Twelve hours to steal her back. It feels like hope and a trap at the same time.

Day 5. Twenty-five days left. The grace period is over.

Blood is lethal now.

The door to my chamber slams open at dawn. I’m on my feet with my knife out before I think, but it’s only Rook. He’s not grinning.

That’s how I know something’s wrong.

“Draevor moved up the timeline,” Rook says. “He’s calling the Kings to the arena at noon. Full court. Priests, packs, everyone.”

“Why?” My stomach drops. “Day 5 is for deciding. The Law gives me until Day 7 before I have to start cutting.”

“Draevor told the priests you’ve already bonded all four. He says there’s no reason to wait.” Rook’s jaw ticks. “He wants you to choose today. Publicly. And he wants the first execution today.”

No. That’s not the Law. The Law says I have seven days of grace, then twenty-three to choose. Draevor is rewriting it again, and the priests are letting him because they want blood.

“Which one does he want dead first?” I ask, because I already know the answer.

“You.” Rook steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. “Or your sister. He told the priests that if you refuse to kill one of us today, he’ll invoke the contingency. Mira gets Claimed by all four at sundown.”

The knife slips in my hand. I catch it before it hits the floor.

“He can’t do that until Day 8,” I say, but my voice sounds weak even to me.

“He’s doing it on Day 5.” Rook crosses the room in three strides. He doesn’t touch me, but he’s close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him. He smells like grave dirt and steel. “The priests agreed. They’re calling it an ‘acceleration clause.’ If the Luna is taking too long, the Alpha who offered her can force the choice.”

Of course they can. The Fifth Law was written by men like Draevor. Every loophole benefits them.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask Rook. Because he’s here, and he’s not smiling, and that means he’s serious.

“I want you to live.” He says it like it’s simple. Like it isn’t tangled up in prophecy and blood and four Kings who are supposed to die for me. “Theo says you survive. Kain says you win. I don’t care about the Law. I care that you’re breathing at the end of this.”

He finally touches me. One hand, cupping my jaw, tilting my face up to his. His thumb brushes my cheekbone, and his touch is surprisingly gentle for a man who gets back up after death.

“Pick me,” he says, quiet. Not a command. A request. “Today, in the arena. Pick me as consort. Let the other three fight it out. I’ll kill them myself if I have to.”

My breath catches. “The Law says three have to die. If I pick you now—”

“Then Silas, Theo, and Kain die today.” His eyes are dark, serious. No grin. “I can do it. I’ve died enough times to know how. I’ll make it fast for Theo. He doesn’t deserve to suffer.”

He’s offering me a way out. A bloody one, but a way out. Choose him now, end it before Draevor can touch Mira, before Day 16 comes for Theo.

But Kain’s 1% flashes behind my eyes. In that future, Rook is alive. Which means Silas, Theo, and Kain aren’t. If I choose Rook now, does that lock the 1% in? Or does it shatter it, because I didn’t take Kain’s crown first?

“I need to think,” I say.

“You don’t have time.” Rook’s thumb stops moving. “Arena’s at noon. It’s dawn now. Six hours, Nyx.”

Six hours to decide who lives and who dies. Six hours before Mira gets put in a white dress again.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “Yesterday you said you’d share me for seven days. Now you want me to end it.”

“Yesterday, blood wasn’t lethal.” His hand drops from my face. “Yesterday, Draevor hadn’t changed the rules. Yesterday, I thought we had time to make you choose us because you wanted us. Not because you were scared.”

He laughs, but it’s a broken sound. “I’m the Necro-wolf, little Luna. I’m supposed to be the monster. But I don’t want you picking me because your sister’s in a Claiming dress. I want you picking me because—”

He stops himself. Shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Just… don’t pick me because of Draevor. Pick me because you can’t stand the thought of me dead. If you can’t do that, then pick someone else and let me die.”

He turns to leave.

“Rook.” I grab his wrist before he reaches the door. His pulse jumps under my fingers. “The 1% future Kain showed me. You’re in it. Alive. With me.”

He goes very still. “And the others?”

“Dead.” I don’t lie to him. He deserves that much. “All three. I’m wearing a crown. I’m pregnant with your child.”

For a second, he doesn’t breathe. Then he turns his hand over and laces his fingers through mine. His grip is tight. Anchoring.

“Say it again,” he says, voice rough.

“You’re alive in the future where I win.”

“Not that part.” His eyes burn into mine. “The other part.”

I swallow. “I’m pregnant. With your child.”

Something breaks open in his expression. Something hungry and possessive and terrified all at once. He hauls me against his chest, one arm banded around my waist, the other hand in my hair, and for a second I think he’s going to kiss me.

He doesn’t. He rests his forehead against mine, breathing hard, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of me.

“If that’s the future,” he murmurs, “then I’ll kill them all myself. I’ll kill Draevor. I’ll kill the priests. I’ll burn the whole Law down if it means you live to see it.”

“You’d have to kill Theo,” I remind him. “He’s supposed to die on Day 16.”

“I know.” Rook’s voice is raw. “And I’ll hate myself for it. But I’ll do it, Nyx. Because you just told me I get to have you. You just told me I get to have a future where I’m not a corpse.”

He pulls back enough to look at me. “So here’s my bargain. Don’t choose today. Not in the arena. Not with Draevor watching. Tell the priests you need the full seven days. Tell them the bond isn’t stable yet. Buy time.”

“Drayvor will take Mira if I stall.”

“No, he won’t.” Rook’s grin finally comes back, sharp and lethal. “Because I’m going to tell him that if he touches your sister before Day 8, I’ll walk into the arena and let Silas kill me. No reboot. No coming back. Just dead. And if I’m dead, the 1% future dies with me. Kain’s whole experiment fails.”

He brushes his knuckles down my cheek. “Draevor doesn’t want you as a broken Luna. He wants you as a weapon he controls. He won’t risk that. Not yet.”

It’s a gamble. A huge one. But it’s six hours to think instead of six hours to choose who dies first.

“Okay,” I say. “We buy time.”

Rook nods. He starts to step back, then stops. “Nyx.”

“Yeah?”

“If the 1% is real…” He swallows. “If I really get you, and a kid, and a crown… then I’m not letting you go. Not to the Law. Not to Draevor. Not to death. You understand me?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” He leans in and presses his mouth to my forehead. It’s not a kiss. It’s a claim. A promise. “Then let’s go lie to some priests.”

He takes my hand and leads me toward the door, toward the arena, toward Day 5.

Twenty-five days left. Blood is lethal now. Draevor changed the rules.

But Rook just gave me something Kain’s data didn’t calculate: a reason to fight that isn’t just survival.

I want that future. The one with him alive. The one with his child.

And I’ll kill whoever I have to kill to get it.