The Things we do for Love

Theo

Scarlet didn't fight me when I crouched beside her, pressing the cloth against the cuts on her feet. She only watched, gaze sharp, burning, like she wanted to carve my silence open and rip the answers from me. But there was nothing left to say.

I had already made up my mind.

I tied the cloth around the worst of her wounds and stood, my voice quiet but firm. "Get some rest."

Scarlet laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're still going to her, aren't you?"

I didn't answer. We both knew the truth.

Her expression twisted into something cruel. "One day, you'll regret this."

Maybe she was right. Maybe I was a fool.

But regret or not, it wouldn't change what needed to be done.

I turned and left, my steps measured, my mind already shifting to find Lydia.

Back at the Mansion:

By the time I returned to the mansion, the weight of the night clung to me like a second skin. The scent of shattered porcelain and Scarlet's blood still lingered in my mind, but I pushed it aside as I stepped into the kitchen.

The housemaid, an older woman who had been with the pack for years, glanced up from the stove.

"Young master Theo," she greeted, her voice warm yet cautious, as if she knew something had unsettled me. "I made the usual remedy."

The smell of raw egg, Worcestershire sauce, salt, and pepper filled the room. A hangover cure—disgusting but effective. I took the cup she handed me without a word.

"She's awake?" I asked.

The maid hesitated. "She was asleep when I went to give her the cure."

I gave a small nod before heading towards my room.

The door was slightly ajar. Inside, she lay curled beneath the sheets, her breathing even but fragile.

I set the cup on the nightstand, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Theo?" Her voice was soft, groggy. "You're back."

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she pushed herself up. The shadows beneath her eyes were deeper now, her face pale in the dim light.

I reached for the cup, offering it to her. "Drink it."

Her nose scrunched. "That smells—"

"Awful, I know." I exhaled, watching as she hesitated. "But it works."

She sighed before taking a sip, her face twisting in disgust. She gagged. "That's disgusting."

I exhaled through my nose. "Drink it all."

She shot me a glare but obeyed, grimacing with each swallow.

When she finally set the cup down, she leaned back against the pillows. Her gaze searched my face. "What about Scarlet?"

I leaned forward slightly, bracing my forearms on my knees. "I handled it."

Her frown deepened. "And?"

"She was angry. She lashed out. But it won't happen again."

Silence stretched between us. I could feel the questions forming in her mind, the uncertainty lingering behind her eyes. But I didn't give her time to voice them.

"Rest," I said, standing. "I'll check on you later."

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but in the end, she only nodded.

I left without another word.

I barely made it past the threshold before my phone buzzed.

"Speak."

"We have a problem."

Ethan's voice. One of the enforcers handling security at the ball who is under my direct command.

My jaw clenched. "Where?"

"North side of the cave. You need to see this for yourself."

....

The scene was worse than I expected.

The stench of blood thickened the air. The ground was soaked in it.

Three bodies lay in the dirt, their chests torn open. Deep claw marks marred their flesh, their ribcages cracked apart, exposing the gaping hollows where their hearts used to be.

It wasn't just a kill. It was a message.

I crouched near one of the bodies, examining the torn muscle and splintered bone. The force behind the attack had been monstrous—precise, calculated.

And the fact that it happened near the other entrance of the cave only made me believe Lydia is involved here in one way or the other.

"The other packs are expecting answers," Ethan muttered. "We need to spin this. Fast."

I wiped a hand over my face, inhaling deeply. "Tell them it was an internal dispute. A fight among themselves."

Ethan hesitated. "Will they buy it?"

"They will if we make it worth their while."

And that was the real challenge.

The pack these wolves belonged to would demand compensation. Not justice. Compensation. The dead had no value to them anymore. What mattered was what they could gain from it.

By sunset, I was locked in negotiations. 

"You want us to keep quiet," the opposing Beta from ShadowMoon pack said, arms crossed. "That doesn't come cheap." 

I met his gaze evenly. "I'm listening." 

A slow, calculating smile spread across his face. "Marry my daughter. Make her the Luna of the Nightshade Pack." 

The audacity of it barely surprised me. He wasn't just after compensation—he wanted direct access to power, using the dead as leverage. 

"That's not possible," I said, my tone flat. "You know our pack values bonds and fated mates. Ask for something else." 

The Beta's expression didn't change, but I saw the flicker of calculation in his eyes. He knew I was right—our pack had followed this tradition for generations. Even my father wouldn't override it so easily. 

After a pause, he tilted his head. "Then how about this... We know your Star Entertainment company is expanding. We want in. Positions for our people—full access to resources, training, connections." His smirk deepened. "I hope you won't deny me twice."

I stiffened. That wasn't something I could decide alone. My father had been adamant that our business should benefit our pack first. Outsiders were not a priority.

Still, the alternative was worse.

If we refused, word would spread. Lydia's name would surface. Questions would be asked. And it wouldn't end with just answers—they might demand her in custody.

I exhaled sharply. "Done."

The Beta smirked. "Pleasure doing business with you. I wonder, though… who is it that the young heir is so desperate to protect?"

I leaned in slightly, my smile sharp and cold. "Curiosity is a dangerous thing, Mr. Ralph. Be careful where you dig—some lines are better left uncrossed. Now, shall we talk numbers?"

His knowing smile widened, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I see. Now we're talking. How about three?"

I raised a brow. To anyone else, it might seem like a fair deal. Three stars for the three dead wolves. But I knew better. Those three combined weren't worth half of what it took to create a single star in the ShadowMoon Pack. And this wasn't just about business.

The fight at the ball hadn't been random. They had wanted Lydia.

My fingers curled slightly, the memory tightening in my chest. They had fought over her like she was a prize, something to be claimed. The thought made my blood simmer, a slow, controlled burn.

"Aren't you afraid you're overplaying your hand?" My voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Ralph let out a low, sinister laugh. "Looks like I should go easy on our first transaction. Fine, how about two?" He leaned back, watching me closely. "Make my daughter, Alice, a superstar. And one of the victim's daughters—let's say she gets a secure place in the industry." He tilted his head. "That should be reasonable, right?"

I exhaled through my nose, suppressing the urge to sneer. Even now, he was making demands like he was doing me a favor.

"Done," I said smoothly. "I trust you'll keep your end of the deal, Mr. Ralph. Take care of your Alpha and your pack."

He grinned, victorious. "Please be rest assured, Mr. Theodore."

The meeting ended with both sides getting what they wanted.

But as I walked away, I knew the real cost had yet to be paid.

...

It took days to erase the evidence, rewrite the reports, and ensure Lydia's name was never linked to the ball. Officially, she had never attended. Her presence was scrubbed from every record.

But the cost was steep.

My father found out soon after.

"You were given one job." His voice boomed through the study. "One. And instead of protecting this pack's reputation, you tarnished it for her."

I didn't move. Didn't react.

He sneered. "You're ruining yourself for a woman who isn't even fully one of us."

I clenched my fists. "She's my responsibility."

"She's a liability."

My jaw tightened. "I won't abandon her."

"You should." His voice was sharper now. "You should have let her deal with the consequences of her own actions. Instead, you spent days bargaining with other packs, handing them leverage over us. As if that's not enough, you used things that should be used for our own people. "

The words hit harder than they should have.

"It was necessary."

"Necessary?" He scoffed. "For what? A woman who is no longer yours?"

A muscle ticked in my jaw. "She was never not mine."

Silence stretched between us.

"You are not Alpha yet, Theodore. You don't get to make these decisions alone."

"I handled it," I said flatly. "There will be no backlash."

His gaze darkened. "Do you think this ends here? The moment she becomes a problem again, do you think the packs will just keep accepting bribes?"

"I'll deal with it."

He laughed bitterly. "You're not thinking like an Alpha. You're thinking like a desperate man."

A muscle in my jaw ticked. "We're done here."

I turned for the door.

"You're making a mistake, Theo."

I didn't look back.

I just left.

....

The days blurred into each other.

Damage control consumed me—handling negotiations, smoothing relations, ensuring no loose ends remained.

And slowly, without meaning to, I found myself drifting from Lydia.

She noticed.

Her eyes lingered longer. She reached for me, but I wasn't there. She sought comfort, but found only silence.

Scarlet, too, refused to speak to her. She was suffering her own consequences—her career taking a hit, opportunities slipping through her fingers because of my promise to ShadowMoon Pack. But she remained silent, which I didn't expect from her as she always threw a tantrum like before.

A quiet barrier formed.

And for the first time, I felt it.

The distance.

The weight of everything pressing down on me.

And somewhere, deep down, a voice whispered that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something I couldn't fix.