Chapter 9: Royal Blood

News of Elif's true lineage spread through the stronghold like wildfire, reaching every corner by morning. The whispers confirmed what many had suspected: she was not merely a half-blood, but the granddaughter of the First Wolf, the Ulu Kurt. The ancient blood of the most powerful werewolf ran through her veins, and suddenly, everyone wanted a piece of her.

Dimitri delivered the grim reports to Elif in her cell. "The Siberian pack is demanding custody," he stated, his voice tight. "The Mongolians are threatening war if they don't get you. The Alaskans have offered protection in exchange for the relic's location."

Elif, huddled on her cot, asked, "What does Niklas say?"

Dimitri's expression flickered. "He says... nothing. He's been in the Council chamber all night."

"Fighting for me?" Elif pressed.

"Fighting over you," Dimitri corrected, stepping into the cell. He lowered his voice. "You need to understand what you are now, Elif. The First Wolf's bloodline hasn't been seen in centuries. The last descendant was killed before she could come of age."

"Why?"

"Because the First Wolf's blood is power. Pure, undiluted power. Whoever controls you controls the packs. Whoever mates with you..." He swallowed, his gaze fixed on her. "Whoever mates with you becomes the most powerful shifter in the world."

Elif's stomach churned. "So that's what this is about. Not me. My blood."

"Your blood is you. You can't separate the two."

"Watch me," Elif said, standing and walking past him into the corridor.

"Where are you going?" Dimitri called after her.

"To find Niklas. Before someone else finds me first."

The Council chamber was silent and empty upon Elif's arrival. The thirteen thrones sat in their arc, cold and undisturbed. The stone basin was gone, but the cracks where the fire had broken it remained. The symbols on the floor were faded, ancient etchings barely visible in the dim light.

Niklas stood at the far end of the room, his back to her, his hands braced on a wooden table covered in maps and documents. "You shouldn't be here," he said without turning.

"You shouldn't be hiding from me," Elif replied.

He turned, his face etched with exhaustion. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and lines of tension creased his mouth. "I'm not hiding. I'm planning."

"Planning what?"

"How to keep you alive," he stated, walking towards her. "The Council wants to lock you up. The packs want to use you. Milos wants to wake the First Wolf and use you as a sacrifice."

"A sacrifice?"

"The old texts say that the First Wolf can only be awakened by the blood of his descendant. All of it. Every drop." Niklas stopped before her. "If Milos gets his hands on you, you won't just die. You'll be drained."

Elif felt the blood drain from her own face. "Then what do I do?"

Niklas was quiet for a long moment. "Marry me," he said.

Elif stared at him. "What?"

"Marry me. Become my official mate. The Black Forest pack is one of the oldest and most powerful in the world. If you're my wife, no one can touch you. Not the Council. Not the packs. Not Milos."

"Are you insane?"

"Probably," he admitted with a tired, crooked smile. "But it's the only way."

"You can't just propose to someone you've known for a week."

"I've known you for ten years."

"That's not the same thing."

"It's the only thing that matters." He reached out and took her hands. His fingers were warm, rough, calloused from years of fighting. "Elif, I'm not asking you to love me. I'm asking you to let me protect you."

"And what do you get out of it?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

He laughed, a real laugh, surprised and genuine. "Fine. I get to keep you close. I get to wake up every morning knowing you're safe. I get to spend every day with the only person who has ever made me feel like I'm not completely broken."

Elif's heart ached. "Niklas..."

"You don't have to answer now. But the Competition is in two days. After that, the Council will make their move. We need to be ready." He released her hands and walked back to the table.

Elif stood there, frozen, her mind spinning. Marry him. Mate with him. Become his wife. The wolf inside her was howling with joy, but the human—the part of her that had been hurt, abandoned, and betrayed—was screaming with fear.

"I need to think," she said.

"Take all the time you need."

She left the chamber.

Elif didn't take all the time she needed. That night, a knock came at her door. It wasn't Dimitri or Niklas. It was Anastasia.

"I heard about the proposal," Anastasia said, leaning against the doorframe. "Interesting strategy."

"It's not a strategy."

"Everything Niklas does is a strategy," Anastasia countered, stepping into the cell. "He's not asking you to marry him because he loves you. He's asking you to marry him because he wants your bloodline."

"You don't know that."

"Don't I?" Anastasia sat on Elif's cot. "I've known Niklas for years. Longer than you. He's a politician, Elif. Everything he does is calculated."

"And what about you? Why are you really here?"

Anastasia's smile faded. "Because I want to offer you a choice."

"What choice?"

"Come with me. To Siberia. I'll protect you. No marriage. No mating. No strings. Just... safety."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I was like you once. A girl caught between worlds. Everyone wanted something from me. No one wanted me." Anastasia looked at Elif, and for the first time, Elif saw something other than coldness in her eyes. "I don't want to use you, Elif. I want to help you."

"And if I say no?"

"Then you marry Niklas. You become his property. His mate. And you spend the rest of your life wondering if he loves you or your blood." Anastasia stood up. "Think about it. But don't think too long. The Council doesn't wait for anyone."

She left. Elif sat on her cot, alone in the dark, and wondered if there was anyone in this place she could trust.

The answer came at midnight. Elif couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think. So she walked. Through the corridors, past the guards, past the sleeping quarters, past the training grounds. Until she found herself in front of Niklas's door.

She knocked. He opened it almost immediately, as if he had been waiting. His hair was disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the ridges of his scars.

"Elif?"

"I've made a decision."

He stepped aside. "Come in."

Elif walked into his room. It seemed smaller than she remembered, or perhaps it just felt smaller because Niklas was in it, his presence filling every corner, every shadow. "Close the door," she said.

He closed it. They stood facing each other, the space between them charged with an unnamed energy.

"What's your decision?" he asked.

Elif took a breath. "Fine."

His eyes widened. "Fine?"

"Fine. I'll marry you. But—" she held up her hand before he could speak. "This is my game now. Not yours. Mine."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you don't get to control me. You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't get to use me for your politics or your power or your blood."

"I never—"

"You didn't have to. It's in your nature. You're a pureblood. A leader. A man. You've spent your whole life taking what you want." Elif stepped closer. "But I'm not something to be taken."

Niklas's jaw tightened. "I never said you were."

"Then prove it."

"How?"

Elif reached out and pressed her hand against his chest, right over his heart. She could feel it pounding—fast, strong, wild. "Prove that you deserve to touch me," she said. "Prove that you're worthy of my trust. My body. My blood."

His breath caught. "Elif—"

"Not yet." She pushed against his chest, not hard, but enough to make him step back. "First, you earn it."

His eyes darkened. His hands, which had been reaching for her, fell to his sides. "Tell me what to do."

Elif smiled. "Show me that you can wait. That you can want. That you can need without taking." She stepped back, putting distance between them. "When I'm ready, I'll come to you. Not before."

"And if I can't wait?"

"Then you're not the man I thought you were."

They stared at each other, the tension in the room thick enough to cut.

"One more thing," Elif said.

"What?"

She walked to the door, opened it, and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Anastasia offered to take me to Siberia. To protect me. Without marriage. Without strings."

Niklas's face went pale. "You didn't—"

"I didn't say yes. But I didn't say no." She smiled. "Consider that your motivation."

She walked out. Behind her, she heard him growl—low, deep, animal.

Good, the wolf inside Elif said. Let him suffer. Let him want. Let him earn us.

Elif walked back to her cell with a smile on her face. The game had begun.