Chapter 100

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the cobblestone path leading to the Blackwood estate. Her heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Today was the day she would finally confront Donovan—the man who had once been her fated mate, the man who had betrayed her in the cruelest way possible.

She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag, her knuckles turning white. The memory of Donovan’s smug face as he paraded Evelyn around campus still burned in her mind. But she wasn’t the same weak, naive girl anymore. The past few months under Sebastian Blackwood’s guidance had hardened her, sharpened her instincts. She was no longer prey.

The grand gates of the estate loomed ahead, guarded by two imposing warriors. They nodded at her in recognition, stepping aside to let her pass. Lillian exhaled sharply, steeling herself. Inside, the mansion was alive with activity—maids bustling about, the distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen, the low murmur of voices.

She found Sebastian in his study, his broad frame silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling windows. He turned as she entered, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "You’re late," he remarked, though there was no real reprimand in his tone.

Lillian lifted her chin. "I had something to take care of."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Let me guess. Donovan?"

She didn’t answer, but the fire in her eyes was confirmation enough.

Sebastian crossed the room in long strides, stopping just inches from her. His presence was overwhelming, a force of nature that demanded attention. "You’re not going alone," he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Lillian bristled. "I don’t need a babysitter."

"This isn’t about needing one," he countered smoothly. "It’s about sending a message. If Donovan thinks he can toy with what’s mine, he’s sorely mistaken."

The possessive edge in his words sent a shiver down her spine. She opened her mouth to protest, but the determined set of his jaw told her it was futile.

"Fine," she relented. "But I do the talking."

Sebastian’s smirk deepened. "We’ll see."

As they stepped out into the fading sunlight, Lillian couldn’t shake the feeling that this confrontation would change everything. The game was far from over—and this time, she wasn’t playing by Donovan’s rules.

"Boss," one of the men spoke hesitantly into the phone. "What do you need?"

"Send me a picture of Lillian," Donovan demanded, his voice sharp with impatience.

"Lillian?" The man hesitated. "Lillian Dumont?"

Donovan's jaw clenched. "Yes, the one you were supposed to take earlier. I want proof she's unharmed. Not a single scratch on her."

A heavy silence stretched between them before the man cleared his throat.

"Sir... we don’t have her."

"What the hell do you mean you don’t have her?" Donovan snarled, his grip tightening on the phone. "You were supposed to grab her in the city!"

"We got a text with a location to meet her," the man explained quickly. "But she never showed. We waited, then left. Thought you’d called it off."

"You’re telling me Lillian isn’t with you?" Donovan’s chest tightened, panic clawing up his throat.

"Never saw her," the man confirmed.

The phone nearly cracked under Donovan’s grip. He swerved the car to the side of the road, slamming it into park.

"Send me the damn location where you were supposed to meet her," he ordered, forcing his breaths to steady.

"Yes, sir."

The call ended, and Donovan waited, pulse hammering, until the coordinates flashed on his screen. His stomach dropped—he knew that place.

Tires screeched as he sped toward the location, dread coiling inside him. If his own men didn’t have Lillian, then who did? Where was she? And why the hell wasn’t Victoria answering her phone?

He arrived in minutes, throwing the car door open before the engine fully died. The faint trace of Lillian’s scent lingered, but it was stale—she hadn’t been here for hours. His gaze snapped to the security cameras mounted outside nearby businesses.

Just as he moved toward one of the buildings, the door swung open. Donovan barely had time to duck behind the wall before Sebastian Blackwood and several of his men stepped out, the shop owner trailing behind them.

"Beta Grayson," Sebastian’s voice carried, sharp with command. "Run this license plate. We pulled footage from the security cameras—kidnappers, likely rogues. I want them found."

Kidnapping? Were they talking about Lillian?

Why the hell was Sebastian looking for her?

Donovan’s blood ran cold.

Donovan's stomach twisted into knots at the mere thought. Lillian was his to rescue, and he'd be damned if he let anyone—especially not Sebastian Blackwood—steal the glory of saving her.

He relayed the license plate to Marcus Grayson, but something nagged at Donovan. That number... it rang a bell. He snatched his phone, fingers flying through his notes. Where had he seen it before?

Then it hit him.

Years ago, he'd singlehandedly dismantled a string of break-ins. He'd scribbled down the plates of the rogues involved, tracking a few to a derelict house deep in rogue territory. Most had slipped away, but he remembered that crumbling house, the rusted car parked out front. A low growl rumbled in his chest. Those bastards had dared to return—and now they'd taken what was his.

Not for long.

The good news? He already knew their hideout. The bad? Getting there wouldn’t be easy. These rogues weren’t just hiding—they’d want his blood.

Sebastian looked ready to bolt, but Donovan had to reach her first. Even in wolf form, it’d take hours to cross into rogue territory. Every second counted.

Shifting, Donovan bared his teeth in a silent snarl. Hold on, Lillian. His claws dug into the earth as he launched forward. I’m coming.