Chapter 2: What are you Willing to do For Love?

Silas’s P.O.V

“What are you willing to do for the one you love?”

I knocked on the door, once at first, then twice for good measure, and then it was time to wait. It was silent here and on the other side of the door as well, as far as my wolf’s hearing could pick up, and while it had first struck me as odd, considering how Lily always liked to do something, anything, around the house, just to occupy herself, I did not think too much into it.

I thought I always knew the answer to that question. At a young and early age, I had already known what it was like to be valiant, to be chivalrous. It had not taken me more than a split second to come to a decision when I found myself at a crossroads a year ago.

A year ago, I would have said, “Everything,” without a moment to waste, with a proud puff of my chest. There would have been a stinging wound, a gaping hole in my heart, but I would have still felt fulfilled because one single act had supposedly blessed the woman I loved the most into having a beautiful life and with her true mate, and to me that would have been enough.

Lily and Ezra had invited me over for dinner, and as I stood waiting outside the apartment, my gaze dropped to the flowers in my hand. Not too long ago, I had been in a similar situation, standing patiently outside her door, flowers in my hands, a whole world to see, but as a lover, not a potential in-law.

Lily and I (as well as Ezra) had been friends since we were children, and I had loved her dearly for as long as I could remember. I even used to believe that the reason why her birthday came before mine was because the universe didn't want me to know a world without her.

Unfortunately, that meant that she herself had some time to get used to my absence, a world without me. True enough, it turned out that Lily was actually Ezra's true mate, and we had only up until recently to realize that because when we were children, my mother had kicked him out of the pack because she could no longer stand to look at him, knowing that he was the child of a mistress. Wolves born outside a mating bond were considered illegitimate and, well, no one really wanted them around.

And when we realized that my own lover was someone else's true mate, of course I only did the valiant, chivalrous thing of letting her go. I was not about to get in the way of fate and of her true happiness. She and I both knew that she would never be truly happy with me, even though her love for me had been genuine, because no matter how strong a love we shared…no one could beat the love that came unconditionally from a mating bond; a bond chosen for us by the Moon Goddess herself.

So the moment she laid eyes on Ezra upon our reunion and called him “mate”…I knew I had no other choice but to let her go.

My parents were long dead in the wake of a rogue attack, and I was left to inherit the seat of power of our pack. I had the means, I had the power, and so I brought Ezra back in, despite the difference in our surnames, because what was a little illegitimacy between brothers? He and I went way back; of course I would not miss an opportunity to bring us closer once more.

Moreover, even though this was not my intention, my act of kindness and mercy toward my half-brother won me the pack's vote, and I was promoted to Alpha, even though Ezra was technically the rightful heir, being the eldest of us two. Only his bloodline had gotten in the way of that.

Funny how the world worked. Ezra was supposed to be our pack's Alpha with dad dead and gone, but he wasn't. I was. And Lily was supposed to be my lover, but she wasn't. She was Ezra's true mate all along.

“What are you willing to do for the one you love?” I heard a character say that on TV earlier this morning, and it got me thinking.

I thought I always knew the answer to that question, given how quickly I had stepped aside and paved the way for my darling Lily and my brother Ezra. I always thought I was more noble and chivalrous than possessive, putting utmost priority in family and fate over everything else.

But now…

I found it a little strange that Lily hadn't come running to open the door yet, given the fact that it had been a long while since I made my appearance known. All my instincts told me that something was wrong, and though in retrospect, it seemed a little rash and reckless, at the time, I knew my instincts were never wrong, so it was only natural that I follow them.

I tried knocking again, more frantically and urgently this time, but still there was no sign of anyone moving to answer the door. I moved my ears closer to the door, but was greeted with absolute silence on the other side. I tried twisting the door knob, just in case they accidentally left it open, but it did not budge.

“Ah, fuck it,” I grumbled to myself. “Sorry for this, Lily, I'll fix this myself afterward.” I mustered all my strength and threw my entire body weight against the door, forcefully breaking it open.

What are you willing to do for the one you love?

I thought I knew the answer to this question, but it turned out that once I was stripped and bared down to the core of my entire being, all my instincts rendered useless and immobile, I was more human than I would care to admit, tiny and helpless and imprisoned in the cage of my own limitations.

What was I willing to do for the one I loved? Nothing. I didn't know. Because when I broke the door down and turned to see Lily on the living room floor, surrounded by a pool of her own blood, I was frozen. I was numb. I wanted to scream, but I could not. I wanted to rage, rage, and rage, but who could I take my anger out on? There was nobody else here but me.

I wanted to cry and demand the heavens, if they even existed, why this had to happen. But no tears would come and my voice failed me, the words coming out as more like a strangled noise than anything coherent.

Indeed, what was I willing to do for her, the one I loved the most, in this moment where she was nothing and everything, when she was here but not quite?

I rushed forward to cradle her in my arms, the flowers dropped and forgotten by the doorstep, my face devoid of any emotion. I was badly hurting on the inside, but I could not for the life of me express how I felt with a furrow of the eyebrow or the upturning of the mouth the entirety of emotions going on through my mind. I could not scream, and I could not cry. I could only hold her cold, cold body against mine, praying desperately for the miracle of a heartbeat, her blood painting my skin splashes of deep red and patches of dried brown.

“No… please…” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper. A tear eventually managed to find its way to the corners of my eyes. “Who did this to you? Who did this to you?” I demanded.

But of course, she was motionless  still, without the life nor the voice to speak.