Chapter 7: Forbidden Past

He didn't let me go.

Not after the kiss. Not after the tears. Not after I whispered his name like a prayer and he whispered mine like a confession.

Instead, he took my hand and led me through the dark corridors of the stronghold, past the sleeping guards and the flickering torches, to a place I had never seen before.

A door. Iron. Heavy.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere safe," he said. "Somewhere they can't hear us."

He pushed the door open.

Behind it was a staircase, narrow and steep, winding down into darkness. The air that rose from below was cold and damp, smelling of earth and stone and something older. Something that felt like secrets.

"Niklas—"

"Trust me."

I followed him down.

The cave was enormous.

It opened up at the bottom of the stairs like a hidden cathedral—high ceilings carved by water over thousands of years, walls that glittered with mineral deposits that caught the light of the single torch Niklas had brought. In the center, a small pool of dark water reflected the ceiling like a mirror.

"What is this place?" I whispered.

"The Council doesn't know about it," Niklas said. "I found it years ago, when I first came here. I needed somewhere to hide. Somewhere to think."

"Think about what?"

He set the torch in a bracket on the wall and turned to face me. In the flickering light, his face looked older. Tired. Haunted.

"About you," he said. "About what I did. About what I didn't do."

I sat down on a flat rock near the pool. He sat across from me, close enough to touch but not touching.

"Tell me," I said.

"Ten years ago," Niklas began, "I was fifteen years old. My father was the leader of the Black Forest pack. He was a cruel man. A violent man. He believed that purebloods were superior to half-bloods, and that half-bloods were superior to humans, and that everyone should know their place."

He picked up a small stone and turned it over in his fingers.

"I didn't believe that. I had met half-bloods before—some of them were kind, gentle, nothing like the monsters my father described. But I kept my mouth shut. I did what I was told. I trained. I fought. I obeyed."

His fingers tightened around the stone.

"Then one night, I was hunting in the Black Forest. It was a full moon. I was in wolf form, running through the trees, when I heard something. A sound that didn't belong."

"What sound?"

"Crying." He looked up at me. "A little girl. Hiding in a hollow tree. Her clothes were torn. Her face was dirty. And she was terrified."

My heart clenched.

"I shifted back to human form so I wouldn't scare her. I talked to her softly, the way you would talk to a wounded animal. I asked her name."

"What did she say?"

"She said 'Ella.'" He smiled—a sad, broken smile. "She said she had run away from home. That her mother locked her in the basement. That she didn't want to go back."

"That little girl," I said slowly. "You think that was me."

"I know it was you."

I shook my head. "No. I grew up in Turkey. On the Black Sea. Not in Germany. Not in your forest."

"Elif—"

"I would remember being in Germany. I would remember you."

"You do remember me. You said so yourself. In my room. You remembered the stars. The stories."

"A feeling isn't a memory."

Niklas's jaw tightened. He set the stone down and leaned closer.

"Then let me give you a memory," he said.

He reached out and touched my face.

His fingers were warm. Gentle. They traced the line of my jaw, the curve of my cheek, the soft skin beneath my eye. And when his thumb brushed the corner of my lips, the world exploded.

Fire.

Forest.

A boy with honey-colored hair and eyes the color of storms.

He was holding a girl in his arms—small, dark-haired, bleeding from a wound on her shoulder. The girl was crying. The boy was crying too.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—I had to—they were going to kill you—"

The girl reached up and touched his face.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I know."

"I'll come back for you. I promise. I'll find you. No matter how long it takes."

"Don't forget me."

"Never."

The world went dark.

I gasped.

The cave swam back into focus. The pool. The torch. Niklas's face, close to mine, his eyes wide with hope and fear.

"Elif?" he said. "What did you see?"

"I saw…" I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling my heart race. "I saw you. Holding me. I was bleeding. You were crying."

"That was the night they took you. The Council's guards. They found us in the forest. They tried to kill you, but I…" He swallowed. "I bit you. To mark you. To claim you as mine. It was the only way to protect you."

"You were just a boy."

"I was old enough to know that I couldn't let them hurt you."

"But they took me anyway."

His face crumpled. "They took you because I was weak. Because I couldn't fight them all. Because I let go of your hand when they told me to."

"Niklas—"

"I let them take you, Elif. I watched them drag you away, and I did nothing."

He stood up abruptly and walked to the pool. His reflection stared back at him—a man haunted by a ghost he had created himself.

"I searched for you," he said. "For years. I went to Turkey. I went to the Black Sea. I went everywhere the Council's records said you might be. But you had vanished. New name. New life. New face."

"My mother," I said. "She changed everything. My name. Our town. She said it was to protect me from my father's enemies."

"She was protecting you from me."

I stood up and walked to him. I stood behind him, close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were shaking.

"Why would she do that?"

"Because I was a Vollbrecht. Because my family was dangerous. Because she knew that as long as I was looking for you, the Council would be looking too." He turned to face me. "She wasn't protecting you from my enemies. She was protecting you from me."

"That's not true."

"It is true." He grabbed my hands, holding them tightly. "I'm the reason you grew up alone. I'm the reason your mother locked you in the basement. I'm the reason the Council knows who you are."

"You're the reason I'm alive."

He shook his head. "Don't. Don't make me into something I'm not."

"I'm not making you into anything. I'm just telling you the truth."

"The truth is that I failed you. Ten years ago, I failed you. And I've been failing you ever since."

He released my hands and stepped back.

"I called you a dirty blood," he said. "I treated you like you were nothing. I tried to break you."

"You were scared."

"That's not an excuse."

"No," I agreed. "But it's an explanation."

He looked at me. Really looked at me. And in his eyes, I saw something I hadn't seen before.

Forgiveness.

Not for himself. For me.

"I don't deserve you," he said quietly.

"Probably not."

He laughed—a small, surprised sound. "You're supposed to argue with me."

"Why? You already know how I feel."

"How do you feel?"

I stepped closer. Close enough to feel the heat of his body, the soft puff of his breath against my lips.

"I feel like I've been searching for something my whole life," I said. "And I just found it."

He closed his eyes. "Elif…"

"Don't push me away again."

"I'm not pushing. I'm trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"From me."

I reached up and touched his face—the same way he had touched mine. His stubble was rough against my palm. His skin was warm.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said.

"You should be."

"But I'm not."

He opened his eyes. They were dark now, almost black, filled with a hunger that made my stomach flip.

"Then you're a fool," he whispered.

"Maybe." I smiled. "But I'm your fool."

He kissed me.

It was different from before. Slower. Deeper. Like he was trying to memorize the shape of my mouth, the taste of my tongue, the way I sighed when his hand slid into my hair.

I kissed him back with everything I had.

And for a moment—just a moment—the world outside the cave didn't exist.

But the world had a way of intruding.

Niklas pulled back first. His forehead pressed against mine. His breath was ragged.

"We can't," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because if the Council finds out about us, they'll use it against me. Against you. They'll separate us. They'll hurt you to get to me."

"Then we don't let them find out."

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple." I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer. "We keep this between us. We pretend. We lie. We do whatever we have to do to survive."

"And then what?"

"And then we win the Competition. We find the relic. And we run."

"Run where?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. As long as we're together."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled—a real smile, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"You're insane," he said.

"Probably."

"I love it."

He kissed me again. Quick. Hard. Promising.

"We should go," he said. "Before someone notices we're gone."

He took my hand and led me back toward the stairs.

We were almost at the top when it happened.

A wave of dizziness hit me. The world tilted. The walls of the staircase spun around me like a carousel.

"Elif?" Niklas's voice was distant, muffled. "Elif, what's wrong?"

"I don't… I feel…"

My knees buckled.

He caught me before I hit the ground. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. His heart was pounding—fast, scared, loud.

"Elif! Stay with me! Look at me!"

I tried. I really tried. But my eyes wouldn't focus. His face blurred and sharpened and blurred again.

And then everything went black.

I woke up in his arms.

We were back in the cave. I was lying on the flat rock near the pool, my head cradled in Niklas's lap. His fingers were stroking my hair, gentle and slow.

"How long was I out?" I whispered.

"Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen." His voice was hoarse. "You scared me."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. "Just don't do it again."

I closed my eyes and let myself feel it. The warmth of his mouth. The softness of his touch. The way his hand tightened on mine like he was afraid I would disappear.

"Niklas," I said.

"Hmm?"

"What happened to me? Why did I pass out?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"I think it was the memory," he said. "Your mind isn't ready to remember everything. It's protecting you."

"From what?"

"From me." His voice broke. "From what I did to you."

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His face was pale, drawn, haunted.

"What did you do?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he looked away—at the pool, at the walls, at anything but me.

"Niklas. What did you do?"

"I left you," he whispered. "When the guards came, I let go of your hand. I could have fought. I could have died trying to save you. But I was scared. So I let go."

"That's not—"

"I let them take you, Elif. I watched them drag you away, and I did nothing." Tears slid down his cheeks. "I've been running from that moment for ten years. But I can't run anymore."

He looked at me. His eyes were red, swollen, full of a grief so old it had become part of his bones.

"I left you to die," he said. "And now I'm going to spend the rest of my life paying for it."

He kissed my forehead again. Soft. Reverent. Desperate.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against my skin. "I'm so sorry."

I reached up and touched his face. Wiped his tears away with my thumb.

"Then don't leave me again," I said. "Stay. Fight. Live."

He closed his eyes.

"I'll try," he said. "For you. I'll try."

We stayed in the cave until the torch burned out.

And when the darkness swallowed us whole, I wasn't afraid.

Because I wasn't alone.

I had him.

And he had me.

And maybe—just maybe—that would be enough.