Chapter 15: The Dead Wife

I should have died.

Liesel's claws were inches from my throat, close enough that I could feel the cold wind they left behind. Close enough that I could smell the death on them—old death, many deaths, deaths that had been screaming for release.

Then Niklas was there.

He didn't shift. Didn't have time. He just threw himself between us, his bare chest meeting Liesel's claws, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me against him.

The claws cut deep.

I felt his blood spray across my face. Hot. Wet. Too much.

"No!" I screamed.

Niklas didn't fall. He stood there, his body shielding mine, his eyes locked on Liesel's.

"Get off her," he said.

Liesel laughed.

It was a terrible sound—high and cold and wrong, like ice breaking on a frozen river.

"Still playing the hero," she said. "I always did love that about you. So noble. So stupid."

"I'm not stupid. I'm just not afraid of you anymore."

"You should be." She stepped back, shifting into her human form. The gray skin faded. The red eyes dimmed. The hundreds of teeth shrank back into a normal mouth. "I'm not the woman you married, Niklas. I'm something much worse."

Niklas's arms tightened around me. His blood was still flowing, soaking through my clothes, staining my skin.

"I know," he said. "You're a traitor."

Liesel's smile didn't waver. "Am I? I prefer to think of myself as a survivor."

The battlefield had gone quiet.

The Siberians had stopped fighting. The Mongolians had stopped fighting. Even Niklas's Germans had stopped. Everyone was watching. Everyone was listening.

Anastasia stood at the edge of the meadow, her white fur matted with blood, her eyes fixed on Liesel. Dimitri stood beside her, his face unreadable. The Alaskans had arrived at some point—Kianuk among them, his ancient eyes dark with something that looked like recognition.

"You faked your own death," Niklas said. "Why?"

"Because I had to." Liesel walked toward him, her silk dress trailing in the snow. "The Council wanted you isolated. Wanted you weak. Wanted you desperate enough to do anything to keep your pack safe."

"So they sent you."

"They hired me. There's a difference." She stopped a few feet away. "I was supposed to pretend to be a victim. A dead wife. A tragedy that would make you hate half-bloods and trust no one."

"But you're not a victim."

"No." Her green eyes glittered. "I'm the one who killed your father's enemies. I'm the one who brokered the alliance with Milos. I'm the one who's been pulling the strings for years."

"You worked with Milos?"

"He was useful. He knew things about the First Wolf that the Council didn't want anyone to know." She glanced at me. "Like the fact that the descendant's blood can wake the First Wolf. And the First Wolf's power can control every shifter in the world."

My blood ran cold.

"That's what this is about," I said. "Not the relic. Not the Council. Power."

"Of course it's about power." Liesel looked at me like I was a child. "What else is there?"

Niklas shifted, pulling me behind him.

His wounds were already healing—the curse of shifter blood—but the scars would remain. They always did.

"Liesel," he said. "Whatever you think you're going to gain from this, you're wrong. The First Wolf can't be controlled. He can't be used. He's not a weapon."

"He's not a he at all." Liesel smiled. "The First Wolf is a force. A force that can be channeled. Directed. Focused. And I know how to do it."

"How?"

"Through her." She pointed at me. "The descendant's blood is the key. Her willing sacrifice is the lock. When she gives herself to the First Wolf—freely, completely—his power will flow into whoever holds her chains."

"You want to enslave her."

"I want to use her. There's a difference."

Niklas's hands curled into fists. "There's no difference."

"Perhaps." Liesel shrugged. "But it doesn't matter what you think. The Council has already agreed to my terms. Once the descendant is mine, I become the new leader of the Black Forest pack. And you—" she looked at Niklas with something that might have been pity "—you become nothing."

"You're lying."

"I never lie about business." She reached into her dress and pulled out a scroll—sealed with the Council's mark. "This is the decree. Signed by all thirteen Council members. Your pack is mine. Your lands are mine. Your life is mine."

Niklas stared at the scroll.

Then he looked at me.

"Elif," he said quietly. "Run."

"What?"

"Run."

I didn't run.

I couldn't.

Because Liesel was already moving, already shifting, already lunging toward me with claws extended and teeth bared.

Niklas intercepted her.

They crashed together—man and monster, husband and wife—rolling across the snow in a tangle of limbs and fury. Liesel was stronger than she looked. Faster. Crueler.

She pinned Niklas to the ground, her hands around his throat.

"I loved you once," she said. "Did you know that? Before the Council got to me. Before they showed me what you really were."

"What was I?"

"Weak." She tightened her grip. "You were always weak, Niklas. Too soft. Too human. You could have been great. Instead, you chose her."

"Liesel—"

"You chose a half-blood over your own wife." Her voice cracked. "Do you know what that felt like? Watching you search for her? Watching you mourn her? You never mourned me."

"Because you weren't dead."

"I might as well have been." She leaned closer. "You stopped loving me the moment you met her. I saw it in your eyes. The way they lit up when you talked about the little girl in the forest."

"That's not—"

"It is." Tears streamed down her face. "I was never enough for you. I was never going to be enough. So I made sure you would never have her either."

"What did you do?"

"I told the Council where to find her. I gave them her mother's name. Her village. Her everything." Liesel smiled. "I'm the reason she grew up in chains, Niklas. I'm the reason her mother locked her in the basement. I'm the reason she forgot you."

Niklas's face went white.

"You," he whispered.

"Me."

He roared.

The sound was inhuman—a sound of pure, unfiltered rage. He threw Liesel off him and scrambled to his feet. His body was shifting, his bones cracking, his teeth lengthening.

"You destroyed her life," he snarled.

"I saved her from you."

"I'm going to kill you."

He lunged.

But Liesel was ready.

She shifted too—into that terrible gray form, with its red eyes and hundreds of teeth. She met Niklas's charge and stopped him. Her claws dug into his shoulders. Her teeth snapped at his face.

"You can't kill me," she said. "I'm not alive anymore. The Council made sure of that."

"Then I'll send you back to whatever hell you came from."

"Promises, promises."

They fought.

It was brutal and desperate and wrong. Every blow Niklas landed, Liesel absorbed. Every wound he inflicted, she ignored. She was like a machine. A puppet. A thing with no fear and no pain and no soul.

She was going to win.

I could see it. The way she wore him down. The way she smiled every time he stumbled.

"Elif!" Dimitri shouted from the edge of the meadow. "Run! Get out of here!"

I couldn't.

Because Niklas was fighting for me. Bleeding for me. Dying for me.

And I couldn't just stand there and watch.

I shifted.

White fur. Blue eyes. The power of the Alaskan wolf flowing through my veins.

I ran.

Liesel saw me coming. She released Niklas and turned to face me, her red eyes gleaming.

"The half-blood wants to play," she said. "How cute."

I didn't answer. I just attacked.

My claws found her throat. My teeth found her shoulder. I tore and bit and raged. She was stronger than me. Older. More experienced.

But I was angrier.

She had taken my childhood. She had taken my father. She had taken everything.

And I was done letting people take from me.

I pinned her to the ground, my jaws around her throat.

"Submit," I growled.

"Never."

"I'll kill you."

"Then do it." She smiled. "But if you kill me, you'll never know the truth."

"What truth?"

"About your father. About the relic. About yourself." Her eyes glittered. "I know things, half-blood. Things that would make your pretty little head spin."

"Lies."

"Truths." She reached up and touched my face. "Your father didn't die protecting you. He died because he betrayed you. He was going to give you to the Council. To save himself."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?" She laughed. "Ask Niklas. He knows. He's always known."

I looked at Niklas.

He was standing a few feet away, his chest heaving, his eyes wide. His wounds were still bleeding. His face was still pale.

"Elif," he said. "Don't listen to her."

"Is it true?"

"Elif—"

"Is it true?"

He didn't answer.

And in that silence, I heard everything I needed to know.

I released Liesel.

She climbed to her feet, brushing snow from her dress, smiling her cold smile.

"There," she said. "Now we're getting somewhere."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

I shifted back to human form. Stood in front of her, naked and trembling and furious.

"You want to know the truth?" I said. "I'll tell you the truth. I don't care about my father's betrayal. I don't care about the relic. I don't care about the First Wolf."

"Then what do you care about?"

I pointed at Niklas.

"Him."

Liesel's smile faltered.

"He's the only one who ever saw me," I continued. "Not the half-blood. Not the descendant. Me. He saw me when I was a scared little girl in a hollow tree, and he never stopped looking."

"Sentimental."

"Real." I stepped closer. "You can have the Council. You can have the packs. You can have the whole world. But you can't have him."

"He was mine first."

"He was never yours. He was always waiting for me."

Liesel's face twisted.

And then she attacked.

Her claws closed around my throat.

I gasped. Choked. The world went gray at the edges.

"You think love saves you?" Liesel hissed. "You think it matters? I loved him. I gave him everything. And he threw me away for a child."

"Liesel—" Niklas started.

"Stay back!" she screamed. "One more step and I tear her throat out!"

Niklas froze.

Liesel's grip tightened.

"You want to know what your father's last words were?" she asked me. "He begged. He begged, Elif. For his life. For his daughter. For anything."

"Stop."

"He said, 'Tell Elif I'm sorry. Tell her I loved her. Tell her—'"

"Stop."

"He said, 'The relic isn't in the Black Sea. It's in her blood. She is the relic. She always was.'"

The world stopped.

I looked at Niklas.

His face was pale. His eyes were wide.

He knew.

He had always known.

"Let her go," he said quietly.

"No."

"Let her go."

Liesel smiled.

"Make me," she said.

Niklas took a step forward.

Then another.

Then another.

Liesel's claws pressed deeper. I felt blood trickle down my neck.

"Stay back!"

"No." Niklas kept walking. "I've spent ten years running from you. From her. From myself. I'm done running."

"Then you're done living."

Liesel raised her claws for the killing blow—

And Niklas smiled.

"Maybe," he said. "But so are you."

He lunged.