Chapter 101

The morning sun cast golden rays through the curtains, rousing Lillian from her restless sleep. She blinked against the light, her mind still foggy from the events of last night—Donovan’s betrayal, the humiliation in front of the entire pack, and the way Sebastian Blackwood had stepped in like a storm, shielding her with his authority.

She sat up, rubbing her temples. The scent of lavender and cedar still clung to her skin—Sebastian’s scent. It was everywhere, as if he had marked her in some intangible way.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Lillian?" Beatrice’s voice was hesitant. "Are you awake?"

Lillian sighed. "Come in."

Beatrice slipped inside, her dark curls bouncing as she shut the door behind her. "You look like hell."

"Thanks," Lillian muttered, dragging a hand through her tangled hair.

Beatrice plopped onto the bed beside her. "So. What’s the plan?"

Lillian frowned. "Plan?"

"You can’t just hide in here forever. Donovan’s parading around with Evelyn like he didn’t just publicly reject you. And Sebastian—"

"Sebastian what?" Lillian’s pulse spiked.

Beatrice smirked. "Oh, nothing. Just that the whole pack saw how he looked at you. Like you were the only person in the room."

Lillian’s cheeks burned. "He was just being polite."

"Polite?" Beatrice snorted. "Since when is the Lycan Chairman polite?"

Before Lillian could argue, her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number lit up the screen:

"Meet me in the gardens. We need to talk. —S.B."

Beatrice peeked over her shoulder and let out a low whistle. "Well, well. Looks like someone’s got a date."

Lillian shoved her away. "It’s not a date."

But her heart hammered against her ribs as she typed out a reply.

"Fine. Give me ten minutes."

She had no idea what Sebastian wanted. But one thing was certain—nothing about this man was simple. And if last night had taught her anything, it was that her life was about to get a lot more complicated.

The gardens were lush, vibrant with early summer blooms. Lillian hesitated at the entrance, scanning the winding paths until she spotted him.

Sebastian stood beneath an ancient oak, his broad shoulders outlined by the dappled sunlight. He turned as she approached, his golden eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.

"You came," he said, his voice low.

Lillian crossed her arms. "You said we needed to talk."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "So defensive."

She lifted her chin. "What do you want, Sebastian?"

His expression darkened. "I want to know why Donovan rejected you."

The question hit like a slap. Lillian stiffened. "That’s none of your business."

Sebastian stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "It is now."

She swallowed hard. "Why?"

"Because," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips, "I don’t believe in wasted potential. And you, Lillian, are far too interesting to let slip away."

Her pulse roared in her ears.

This wasn’t just a conversation.

It was a challenge.

And she had no idea if she was ready for what came next.

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian hurried across the bustling campus. Her backpack weighed heavily on her shoulders, filled with textbooks and the weight of her recent heartbreak. Donovan had rejected her—publicly, cruelly—leaving her to face the whispers alone.

She ducked into the coffee shop, seeking refuge. The rich aroma of espresso wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

"Hey, Lillian!" Gabrielle Rousseau, the barista, flashed her a warm smile. "The usual?"

Lillian nodded, forcing a small smile. "Thanks, Gabrielle."

As she waited, her phone buzzed. A message from Beatrice: "You okay? I heard what happened."

Lillian exhaled sharply. Of course, the whole school knew. Donovan and Evelyn had made sure of that.

Before she could reply, the café door swung open, and a hush fell over the room.

Sebastian Blackwood strode in.

Tall, commanding, with piercing amber eyes that seemed to see right through her. The Lycan chairman rarely visited campus, and his presence sent a ripple of tension through the room.

Lillian froze, her pulse quickening.

He stopped in front of her.

"Lillian," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "We need to talk."

Her breath hitched. What could he possibly want with her?

Around them, whispers erupted.

"Isn’t that the girl Donovan dumped?"

"Why is Chairman Blackwood here?"

Sebastian ignored them, his gaze never leaving hers. "Now."

Lillian swallowed hard.

This wasn’t just a conversation.

This was the beginning of something far bigger than she could imagine.

The night dragged on endlessly, each second stretching into an eternity. Despite my desperate attempts, I couldn’t devise any viable escape plan. Not that I truly believed we could break free, but I had hoped to at least find some weakness in the cage—some flaw to exploit before dawn arrived. Without windows, time became a nebulous concept, impossible to track.

Victoria slumped against me, exhausted from hours of silent sobbing, and eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep. But sleep eluded me entirely. I remained wide awake, every nerve on high alert. When the creaking of footsteps echoed from the floorboards above, I gently nudged Victoria onto the cold ground, lying beside her, feigning unconsciousness. Maybe, just maybe, they’d leave us alone if they thought we were still out.

Whoever had orchestrated this wanted us terrified. They wanted our fear captured on film, our reactions documented. Well, I refused to give them the satisfaction. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my racing heart to slow. If I was going to pull this off, I needed to stay calm.

The footsteps grew louder, the basement door groaning open. The stench of rogue wolves flooded the air, thick and suffocating, making my stomach churn. Muffled voices drifted closer as they descended the stairs, their heavy boots thudding against the concrete.

"Still out cold?" one of them grunted. "How much sedative did you pump into them?"

"Enough to keep them down for hours. They should’ve woken up by now."

"You think they’re faking?" a third voice chimed in.

"Go check."

My entire body tensed at the command. They were coming inside the cage. If Victoria stirred, if she realized they were near us—what would they do to her?

The metallic clang of the cage door unlocking sent a jolt of dread through me. Heavy footsteps approached, and then icy fingers pressed against the back of my neck, searching for a pulse.

"She’s alive," the rogue muttered, his breath hot against my ear. I suppressed a shudder, my skin crawling at his proximity.

His fingers trailed down my neck, skimming over my exposed shoulder. The touch burned, revolting in its intimacy.

"Damn, she’s pretty," he rasped, his voice thick with barely restrained hunger. "Might as well have some fun before we finish the job."

"Take turns," another suggested from somewhere behind him.

I fought the urge to snap my eyes open, to see how many of them surrounded us. But I couldn’t risk it—not yet.

The rogue touching me chuckled darkly before pulling away.

"Check the other one," someone ordered.

I listened, barely breathing, as his footsteps moved toward Victoria. Every second stretched into agony. What would they do to her?

And what would I do if they tried?

The metallic scent of blood filled the air as I kept my breathing shallow, feigning unconsciousness. I needed them to think I was still out cold—just long enough to examine Victoria and leave us be. At least until I could devise an escape plan. Sebastian had to know something was wrong by now. We'd been missing all night, and surely he'd be searching for his daughter.

I doubted he'd spare a thought for me, but Victoria was his flesh and blood. He wouldn't abandon her.

"Damn, this one's a real beauty," the rogue murmured, his voice dripping with hunger. "We hit the jackpot with these two." My fingers twitched, the silver cuffs searing into my skin with every movement. If not for these cursed restraints, I could've taken him down in seconds.

Then—my stomach lurched—Victoria stirred.

"Oi, the little dove's waking up!" the rogue crowed to his companions.

"W-where am I?" Victoria's voice trembled.

My pulse spiked.

"Oh, she's definitely awake," he purred, excitement darkening his tone. "This just got interesting."

"No! Get off me!" Victoria shrieked, scrambling backward.

I couldn't keep up the act any longer. My eyes snapped open, taking in the scene: two more rogues leering outside the cage, and a hulking brute inside, pinning Victoria down. She thrashed, her screams piercing my skull.

"Get your hands off her!" I roared, lashing out with a kick.

"Look alive, boys—the feisty one's up!" Another rogue lunged for me, grappling to keep me from reaching Victoria.

A sharp crack echoed as the rogue backhanded Victoria. Her sob of pain sent white-hot fury through me. The cuffs burned deeper with every struggle, but I fought anyway, twisting, kicking—useless.

The rogue's filthy hands groped at Victoria's clothes.

I snarled, "Touch her again, and I'll rip your throat out!"

Laughter.

They thought I was powerless.

They were wrong.