Chapter 116

The crisp morning air carried the faint scent of pine as Lillian stepped onto the balcony of Sebastian Blackwood’s sprawling estate. The sun had barely risen, casting golden streaks across the sky, but her mind was already racing.

Last night’s confrontation with Donovan still burned in her memory—his cold dismissal, the way he had looked at her as if she were nothing. And Evelyn, standing smugly beside him, her fingers curled possessively around his arm. The rejection had stung more than she cared to admit.

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Lillian?" Beatrice’s voice was gentle, laced with concern. "You’ve been out here for ages. Are you okay?"

Lillian exhaled sharply, gripping the railing. "I’m fine. Just needed some air."

Beatrice stepped beside her, leaning against the railing. "Don’t lie to me. I know you’re not fine."

Lillian clenched her jaw. "What’s there to say? Donovan made his choice. He chose Evelyn. End of story."

Beatrice frowned. "But it’s not the end, Lil. You’re stronger than this. And honestly? He doesn’t deserve you."

Lillian scoffed. "Tell that to my wolf. She’s still convinced he’s our mate."

Beatrice hesitated before speaking again. "What about Sebastian?"

Lillian stiffened. "What about him?"

"You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way he looks at you."

Lillian’s pulse quickened. Sebastian Blackwood was an enigma—powerful, commanding, and dangerously attractive. But he was also her professor, her pack’s Lycan chairman. And then there was Oliver, his seven-year-old son, who had already wormed his way into her heart.

"It doesn’t matter," Lillian muttered. "I’m not getting involved with another man who’s already promised to someone else."

Beatrice arched a brow. "You mean Victoria?"

Lillian nodded. "She’s his fiancée, Beatrice. Or did you forget?"

Beatrice smirked. "Funny, because I heard they called off the engagement last night."

Lillian’s breath hitched. "What?"

"Marcus told me. Apparently, Sebastian ended things. Something about not being able to commit to a woman he doesn’t love."

Lillian’s heart pounded. Was it possible? Had Sebastian really broken things off with Victoria?

Before she could process the revelation, her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number lit up the screen:

"Meet me at the old oak tree in an hour. We need to talk. —D."

Lillian’s stomach twisted. Donovan.

Beatrice peered over her shoulder. "What is it?"

Lillian swallowed hard. "Donovan wants to meet."

Beatrice’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t go. He’s just playing games."

But Lillian’s wolf stirred, restless. "What if he has a reason?"

"Or what if it’s a trap?" Beatrice countered.

Lillian hesitated, then squared her shoulders. "I have to know."

Beatrice sighed. "Fine. But I’m coming with you."

Lillian shook her head. "No. This is something I need to do alone."

As she turned to leave, Beatrice grabbed her wrist. "Be careful, Lil. If anything feels off, run."

Lillian nodded, determination hardening her gaze. Whatever Donovan wanted, she would face it head-on.

But as she stepped into the forest, a familiar scent wrapped around her—dark, intoxicating, unmistakably Sebastian’s.

Her breath caught.

He was here.

And he was watching.

The morning sun cast golden rays through the curtains, stirring Lillian awake. She stretched lazily, her muscles still sore from yesterday’s intense training session. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted into her room, a clear sign that Sophia, the ever-efficient maid, was already up and preparing breakfast.

Lillian’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Beatrice lit up the screen:

"Girl, you won’t believe what just happened! Meet me at the café in 20. It’s urgent!"

Frowning, Lillian quickly dressed in a simple yet stylish outfit—a fitted blouse and dark jeans—before heading downstairs. The mansion was unusually quiet, save for the faint clinking of silverware in the dining room.

Sebastian sat at the head of the table, engrossed in a stack of documents. His sharp eyes flicked up as she entered. "Morning," he murmured, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"Morning," she replied, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Where’s Oliver?"

"Already at school. Victoria took him early."

Lillian nodded, sipping her coffee. The rich, bitter taste grounded her. She hesitated before speaking again. "I’m meeting Beatrice. She sounded… frantic."

Sebastian’s expression darkened slightly. "Be careful. Donovan’s been spotted near campus."

Her grip tightened around the mug. "I can handle him."

Sebastian’s lips twitched, almost like a smirk. "I know you can. But humor me—take Marcus with you."

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Marcus, Sebastian’s ever-loyal Beta, was more than capable.

The café was bustling with students, the air thick with the aroma of espresso and pastries. Beatrice waved her over from a corner booth, her face flushed with excitement.

"You look like you’re about to explode," Lillian remarked, sliding into the seat across from her.

Beatrice leaned in, lowering her voice. "Okay, so remember Evelyn? Donovan’s new mate?"

Lillian’s stomach twisted. "What about her?"

"She was at a club last night—completely wasted. And guess who she was with?"

Lillian’s pulse spiked. "Donovan?"

"Worse." Beatrice’s eyes gleamed. "Dominic Reeves."

Lillian blinked. "Walter’s subordinate? The future Beta?"

Beatrice nodded vigorously. "And get this—they were arguing. Like, full-on screaming match. Something about a deal gone wrong."

Lillian’s mind raced. If Dominic was involved, this wasn’t just some petty drama. It was pack business.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed again. An unknown number.

"Meet me at the old library. Alone. We need to talk.—D."

Her breath hitched. Donovan.

Beatrice frowned. "What’s wrong?"

Lillian pocketed her phone, forcing a smile. "Nothing. Just… pack stuff. I’ll catch up with you later."

As she stood, Marcus materialized beside her, his expression unreadable. "Problem?"

Lillian hesitated. "Change of plans. I need to make a quick stop."

Marcus’s jaw tightened. "Where?"

She met his gaze squarely. "Somewhere I have to go alone."

The air between them crackled with tension. Finally, Marcus exhaled sharply. "Fine. But if you’re not back in an hour, I’m coming after you."

Lillian smirked. "Wouldn’t expect anything less."

With that, she strode out of the café, her heart pounding. Whatever Donovan wanted, it couldn’t be good. But she was done running.

This time, she would be the one controlling the game.

"It's breathtaking," Victoria gasped, her eyes sparkling as she took me in.

I glanced down at the dress, suddenly self-conscious. "You don't think it's too extravagant?" I asked hesitantly.

"Oh, heavens no!" She waved a hand dismissively. "Not for the Gala. Lillian, you have to show Beatrice." She flung open the dressing room door, and I stepped into the soft glow of the boutique lights.

Beatrice stood nearby, flipping through a rack of new arrivals, but the moment she heard me step out, she turned—and froze. Her lips parted in shock, her eyes widening as they swept over me.

"Wow," she breathed. "You look... incredible." There was a flicker of something in her gaze—something I couldn't quite place—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. For a second, I thought it might have been envy, but I dismissed the idea immediately. Beatrice was effortlessly stunning; there was no way she’d be jealous of me.

"We have to get you that dress," Victoria declared. "Nathaniel is going to lose his mind when he sees you." She grinned mischievously. "Now, I'm off to find my own. I’ll come find you when I’m done." With that, she disappeared into the sea of gowns.

I turned toward the full-length mirror beside me, and my breath caught. The dress clung to my curves in all the right places, the delicate fabric shimmering under the lights. I barely recognized myself—elegant, radiant, beautiful.

Beatrice would freak if she saw me like this.

Smiling to myself, I turned to head back to the dressing room—only to collide with someone.

"Ugh, watch where you're going," a sharp, familiar voice snapped.

I looked up to find Penelope glaring down at me, arms crossed over her chest, her lips curled in distaste. We’d only met once before—when I’d dined with Sebastian to discuss my contract—and it hadn’t been pleasant.

Her gaze dropped to the dress I wore, and she took a deliberate step back, studying it with narrowed eyes. Then, a slow, calculating smile spread across her face.

"That dress is perfect. I’ll take it," she announced, snapping her fingers at Felicity.

Felicity hesitated, glancing between us awkwardly. "I’m sorry, Miss Baldwin, but this dress has already been claimed."

Penelope’s smile twisted into a sneer. "I’m Penelope Baldwin, heiress to the Baldwin fortune. I get whatever I want—and I want that dress." She leaned in, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I could ruin you with a single phone call."

Felicity paled, biting her lip nervously. Before she could respond, I stepped forward.

"As you can see, Miss Baldwin," I said coolly, "the dress is already mine."

Her eyes flashed with fury, but I held her gaze, refusing to back down.

This wasn’t just a dress.

It was a statement.

Penelope's lips curled into a mocking smirk as she looked Lillian up and down, her eyes dripping with disdain.

"Honestly, do you really think you can pull off a dress like this?" she sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don’t embarrass yourself. Here—I’ll pay you to take it off." She reached into her purse, pulling out a sleek checkbook and a gold-plated pen.

"How much do you want? A thousand?" When Lillian didn’t respond, just staring at her in disbelief, Penelope scoffed. "Fine. Five thousand, then. That should be more than enough for someone like you."

Lillian clenched her jaw. "I’m not giving you this dress."

Penelope’s eyes narrowed into venomous slits. "This gown deserves someone with real elegance. Clearly, that’s not you." Her gaze lingered on Lillian’s face, suspicion flickering in her eyes. "Wait… you look familiar. Have we met before?"

Then, realization struck.

"Oh, right," she drawled, a cruel laugh escaping her lips. "You’re that desperate little nobody who won’t stop clinging to Sebastian. Let me save you the trouble—he doesn’t do relationships. You were just a one-night distraction. Nothing more." She leaned in, her voice dripping with malice. "But my sister? That’s a different story. And after the Gala tonight, things are going to change."

Lillian’s chest tightened, though she refused to let the words wound her.

"Take. It. Off," Penelope demanded, her tone icy.

Just then, Victoria stepped forward, her presence sharp and commanding.

"Aunt Penelope?"

Penelope froze, her face draining of color. "V-Victoria? What are you doing here?"

Victoria’s eyes darkened. "I’m helping my friend Lillian find a dress for the Gala." She tilted her head, voice dangerously soft. "Did I just hear you say you’re planning to seduce my father?"