Chapter 118

The morning sun cast golden rays through the sheer curtains of Lillian's bedroom, painting delicate patterns across the silk sheets. She stretched lazily, her muscles still aching from yesterday's intense training session with Professor Montclair. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted up from the kitchen, mingling with the crisp autumn air that seeped through the slightly ajar window.

Downstairs, Sebastian Blackwood was already seated at the dining table, his sharp gaze scanning through a stack of documents. Oliver, his seven-year-old son, was enthusiastically recounting his latest adventure at school, his tiny hands gesturing wildly as he spoke.

"Papa, guess what? I beat Dominic in the race today!" Oliver declared proudly, his eyes sparkling with triumph.

Sebastian's lips curved into a rare smile. "That's my boy," he murmured, ruffling Oliver's hair affectionately.

Lillian descended the stairs, her bare feet padding softly against the polished wood. She hesitated at the doorway, watching the tender moment between father and son. A pang of longing shot through her—she had never known such warmth growing up.

Sebastian sensed her presence immediately, his piercing gaze lifting to meet hers. "Good morning, Lillian," he said, his deep voice smooth as velvet.

"Morning," she replied, forcing a small smile.

Oliver turned in his seat, beaming at her. "Lillian! You have to come see the drawing I made for you!"

Before she could respond, the front door burst open, and Victoria stormed in, her usually composed demeanor shattered. Her face was flushed, her breathing ragged.

"Father," she gasped, clutching a crumpled letter in her trembling hands. "It's Donovan. He's—he's demanding the engagement proceed immediately, or he'll expose everything."

The air in the room turned frigid. Sebastian's expression darkened, his grip tightening around his coffee cup. Lillian's heart pounded—Donovan's threats were escalating, and she knew he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted.

But what exactly did he want?

And more importantly—what was Sebastian willing to do to stop him?

The tension was suffocating, the unspoken questions hanging heavily between them.

Then, a sharp knock at the door shattered the silence.

Marcus Grayson, Sebastian's beta, stepped inside, his face grim. "Alpha, we have a problem. The Darkmoon pack has crossed our borders."

Sebastian's eyes flashed dangerously. "Prepare the warriors," he ordered, rising from his seat.

Lillian swallowed hard. War was coming.

And she was right in the middle of it.

Victoria knew her father was sharp enough to see through Penelope's schemes, so she tried not to worry too much.

"How do I look?" Nathaniel asked, leaning casually against the doorframe of Victoria's bedroom. She turned to face him, and her expression brightened instantly. He looked dashing in his tailored suit, the silver mask accentuating his sharp features and complementing his ensemble perfectly. It made her grin wider.

"Like my father," she admitted with a soft laugh. "Did you get a haircut?"

He nodded, running his fingers through his freshly trimmed hair. "Yeah. I wanted to clean up for tonight, so I thought a fresh cut would be nice."

"Well, you look incredibly handsome, Nathaniel. Lillian is one lucky woman," Victoria remarked thoughtfully.

Nathaniel shrugged, his gaze dropping to the floor for a brief moment. "If anything, I'm the lucky one," he murmured. "I really like her, Victoria. I think... I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend tonight."

Victoria's smile faltered slightly. "Don't you think it's too soon?"

His frown mirrored hers. "I know it might seem that way, but I just... I feel like she's the one for me," he confessed, his voice low but certain.

"But she's not your fated mate," Victoria pointed out gently.

Nathaniel arched a brow. "And Donovan isn't yours. Yet you're still marrying him because you know he's right for you."

The reminder made Victoria blush, and she bit her lower lip. "You're right," she conceded. "I just don’t want anyone getting hurt."

"I would never hurt her," Nathaniel said firmly. "If she doesn’t want to move to France with me, then I’ll consider staying here permanently. I could start my own business, build a new life here."

Victoria's eyes widened. "You'd do that for her? After just a few dates?"

A faint pink tinged his cheeks. "I think I might be falling in love with her," he admitted. "Those few dates were enough to make me sure. Tonight, I’ll find out if she feels the same, and we’ll go from there."

Victoria’s expression softened, and she stepped forward to embrace him. "I’m so happy for you, Nathaniel," she whispered.

Lillian stepped back and adjusted Nathaniel's mask on his face.

"Do we have more masks?" she inquired.

He nodded.

"Yes, one of the maids brought in an entire box of them," he replied.

She gave a small nod and moved past him, leaving her room behind. Descending the grand staircase, she reached the foyer where the box of masks sat. Sebastian stood there, scrutinizing them with his usual stern expression—ironic, given how much the silver mask resembled Nathaniel's. The resemblance between them was uncanny, a testament to their shared bloodline.

"Choosing a mask?" Lillian asked him.

He glanced up at her and nodded.

"Not sure which one complements my suit best," he mused, turning each mask over in his hands.

Her gaze swept over the box until she spotted one nearly identical to Nathaniel's. "Nathaniel went with this silver one," she said, lifting it to Sebastian's face. "It pairs well with the dark blue of your suit."

Sebastian studied his reflection for a moment before securing the mask over his eyes. The transformation was startling—he could have been Nathaniel’s twin. Lillian blinked rapidly, momentarily disoriented.

"Alright," Sebastian finally conceded. "This one will do."

Lillian nodded and selected a mask that matched her gown. Just then, Theodore opened the front door, and Donovan strode into the foyer, a bouquet of roses in hand and a charming smile on his lips.

Lillian gasped at the flowers, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as he murmured about how breathtaking she looked. Sebastian removed his mask, tucking it into his pocket just as Nathaniel descended the stairs.

"I sent a car for Beatrice. Has she arrived yet?" Nathaniel asked.

Theodore peeked outside. "She just pulled up," he announced.

Nathaniel’s breath hitched as he waited for Beatrice to step inside. Moments later, she appeared in the doorway, radiant. Her hair cascaded in perfect waves, half-up, half-down, framing her face like a portrait. The gown she wore was nothing short of a masterpiece, hugging her curves as though crafted just for her. She was ethereal, breathtaking—every eye in the room locked onto her.

An awkward smile touched her lips as she took in the silent admiration around her. Donovan stood with his arm around Lillian, yet his jaw nearly dropped at the sight of Beatrice.

Nathaniel’s eyes burned with unmistakable admiration, making her cheeks flush. But it wasn’t their reactions that held her attention—it was Sebastian’s. He stood apart from the others, his gaze unwavering, drinking her in with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

There was something unsettling in his gaze that Lillian couldn't quite decipher—a shadow lurking beneath the surface, dark and unreadable. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were now clouded with an emotion that sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't just desire—it was something deeper, something possessive, almost predatory.

The way Donovan looked at her now was nothing like the cold indifference he'd shown when they'd first met. No, this was different. This was raw.

Lillian swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She knew she should step back, put distance between them, but her feet refused to move. The air between them crackled with tension, thick and suffocating.

Was this what it felt like to be hunted?

She had seen that look before—in the eyes of wolves stalking their prey. But she had never expected to see it directed at her. Not by him.

Not after everything.

Her breath hitched as Donovan took a slow step forward, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Running already?" he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Lillian clenched her fists, forcing herself to hold her ground.

She wouldn’t let him see her fear.