Chapter 81

Violet

Theodore stiffened beside me, his hands stilling over a delicate satin piece he’d been looking at. I turned toward the voice, instinctively stepping closer to him. A man stood in the center of a small crowd of reporters, his gestures animated as he spoke into their microphones.

“He hides behind the guise of compassion,” he continued, his voice dripping with disdain. “But his ambition knows no bounds. Look at the bloody incidents caused by rogues! And yet he wants to bring them into civilized society? At what cost? To make it even harder for packs to mount defenses against them?”

A flicker of anger ignited in my chest, but I forced myself to stay composed. Theodore’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the man as if he were weighing whether to engage or walk away.

“Do you recognize his voice?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“No,” Theodore replied, his tone clipped. “But he sounds like someone in Owen's back pocket."

I agreed.

Theodore sighed. "It's just like Owen to pull every trick possible." He shook his head. "He's probably been having us watched since we let Midnight."

He was probably right, though that would require more than just access to the flight manifests. I wondered what the alpha of this territory could be getting from Owen, or owe Owen, that he'd be willing to make his pack spies for him.

I considered it. It could be that the word had just gotten out through people posting we were here via social media, but that felt like the easiest answer to a complex situation.

"Shall we?" I asked.

Theodore cocked an eyebrow. "Are you stalling from paying up?"

I laughed. "Not even. Can I sweeten the pot by offering… another three items to go deal with this?"

His eyes lit up. "Five."

"Okay."

He eyed me suspiciously. "You gave in so easily."

I slipped my arm around his and pressed closer, straightening his collar. He relaxed, his eyes softened with something tender and content as I smiled up at him.

"You'll learn that sometimes one must bribe others into doing things that are good for them."

His lips trip. "Stories for dagger strikes."

I looked up at him. "Your mother?"

He nodded, his eyes turning misty. "She'd… tell me fairytales from her country for dagger practice."

He sighed. "I used to wear myself out to get her to tell me my favorites."

I chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind. I have a book of original fairytales. I wonder if any of your favorites are in there."

We turned a corner and nearly walked straight into the heart of what could only be described as an impromptu press conference. A small crowd of reporters had gathered in a semi-circle around a man and woman standing in the main corridor that linked the lingerie shop to other shops inside the mall.

This close, I recognized the man as Alpha Victor Blackthorn, head of the Mistwood Territory. His reputation for being a staunch traditionalist and a close ally of Owen’s made him impossible to ignore or like. Beside him stood his wife and Luna, a striking woman with auburn hair that caught the sunlight like fire. Her elegant dress was tailored to perfection, but her sharp gaze carried an edge that dulled none of its hostility when it landed on me.

Or rather, it shifted to Theodore first—and softened.

Her lips parted slightly, a glimmer of something unreadable flickering across her face before she schooled her features into a more neutral expression. But I caught the way her hand lingered on Victor’s arm as if to remind herself of where she now stood.

“Well, well,” she said. “What a surprise.”

Her tone held an almost practiced warmth, but her eyes betrayed her. They drank him in like he was the answer to a question she wished she could still ask. Oh, great. Another one of his flings.

“It sure is,” Theodore replied evenly, his expression calm but icy. “Here to make a scene or shop for an anniversary?”

The woman’s gaze flicked to me, her smile tightening into something razor-sharp.

“Multi-tasking. And you must be Violet,” she said, the false sweetness in her tone was more amusing than anything. Could she be any more obvious? “The one who’s turned Theodore into such a…public figure lately. Tell me, does all the attention ever get exhausting?”

I smiled back, equally sharp. “Not at all. I’m quite enjoying making him a social butterfly. He’s got the bones for it.”

Theodore snickered, drawing me closer. “Really?”

I smiled up at him. “You do.”

Victor cleared his throat before she could speak again.

“We were just discussing your little project, Theodore,” Victor said, his tone carrying the weight of condescension. “Bold of you to push something so…radical.”

“It’s not radical to give people a second chance,” Theodore replied. “Rogues aren’t born—they’re made. And if we don’t address the root causes, we’ll be stuck in a cycle of violence forever.”

Victor chuckled, shaking his head. “You make it sound so noble. But I wonder if you’ve considered the cost—both to your own pack and to others.”

“Assuming you're right that there is some cost, I have the money to pay for it." He smirked. "And the cost of ignoring the problem is much higher."

“I suppose that’s a matter of perspective,” Victor said, his smile thin, “Tell me, Theodore, how many lives are you willing to gamble with for your ambition? Are you going to roll up your sleeves too bury good men when rogues decide to storm your territory?”

I could feel Theodore’s frustration rising, but he kept his tone light.

“You don’t sound like you’ve actually read the proposal at all. It’s not a gamble. It’s a solution. It’s progress, and I assure you that I've rolled up my sleeves to much less honorable things than bury good men. I'm not a stranger to hard work.”

“Or power,” Victor added smoothly, his eyes gleaming. “Let’s not pretend that this project is anything else. You’re playing a dangerous game, trying to create a militia of rogues to command. You should temper that ambition before it gets everyone killed.”

I almost cringed, hearing the words from his mouth and remembering when I had thought and said practically the same thing. At least at the time, I had actually been ignorant to the problem.

“I don't think pregnant teenagers would make very good soldiers," I said, cocking an eyebrow. "Pregnant, vulnerable young women with no means and nowhere to go -- which are the vast majority of those who would benefit from the project… But that's something you'd have known if you'd actually read the proposal.”

"That's---"

"Theo', when is the proposal meant to be publicized?" I asked, off-handedly.

We'd never discussed it, but I had hoped that he'd catch on.

"Oh, I'm certain it's supposed to go out around the same time as the PSAs."

I beamed at him. "That's brilliant timing, darling."

He grinned back at me. Victor’s wife bristled, her gaze snapping to me.

“All the PSAs in the world won't change the facts. Some have the perception, wisdom, and experience to know how such things will end without the need of trial of error. My husband—”

“Has never fought on the border, and your territory isn’t even plagued by rogue activity,” I said, cocking an eyebrow. “Mistwood is encircled on all sides by bigger packs with better military and defenses. Let’s not pretend that this is an issue Mistwood can do anything but contribute to in the worst possible way.”

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Victor's expression lost all smugness, and his wife’s glare was more amusing than anything. I figured I'd given Theodore enough political context for him to win his debate against Victor with ease and the benefit of an audience. It would be best for the situation if I left.

I had business with Victor's wife. and Theodore could use a bit of practice being seen in the public eye and being heard candidly.

Victor wasn’t a huge name, but he was big enough that people would tune in to watch him debate this against Theodore. The smaller alphas who typically would fall in line behind him would listen to him and watch him get trounced by Theodore. They might not vote for the project, but at least they won’t go on television trying to stir up trouble and bad press for fear of being confronted by Theodore.

“I’m going to step away for a moment,” I murmured, brushing my fingers lightly against Theodore’s arm.

His eyes darted to mine, a flicker of concern softening his sharp gaze. I gave him a reassuring nod before slipping away and down the corridor to the bathroom.

The bathroom was pristine, its marble floors and gilded mirrors a testament to the wealth of the establishment. I stepped inside and immediately activated my surveillance system. I felt it humming against my spine and a few moments later, Victor’s wife stepped inside.