Chapter 11

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over Lillian’s room. She stretched lazily, her muscles still sore from yesterday’s training session with Professor Montclair. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted in from the hallway, making her stomach growl.

She barely had time to grab a quick breakfast before rushing to campus. Beatrice had texted her earlier, insisting they meet before class.

"Lillian! Over here!" Beatrice waved from their usual spot near the oak tree, her dark curls bouncing with every movement.

Lillian jogged over, slightly out of breath. "What’s so urgent?"

Beatrice leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You won’t believe what I just heard. Cassandra and Professor Sinclair are planning something. I overheard them talking in the library."

Lillian’s pulse quickened. "What kind of something?"

"I don’t know exactly, but it sounded like they’re targeting you. Again." Beatrice’s eyes darkened with concern. "You need to be careful."

Lillian clenched her fists. "I’m tired of this. If they want a fight, they’ll get one."

Beatrice grabbed her arm. "No, Lil. That’s exactly what they want. You can’t let them provoke you."

Before Lillian could respond, her phone buzzed. A message from Sebastian Blackwood.

"Meet me at the pack house after your last class. We need to talk."

Her stomach twisted. What now?

The pack house loomed before her, its grand architecture a stark reminder of Sebastian’s power. Lillian hesitated at the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the handle.

Inside, the air was thick with tension. Sebastian stood by the fireplace, his broad shoulders rigid. Oliver sat on the couch, his small frame dwarfed by the massive furniture.

"You wanted to see me?" Lillian’s voice was steadier than she felt.

Sebastian turned, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "We have a problem."

Oliver looked up, his big eyes filled with worry. "Someone’s been spreading rumors about you, Lillian."

Lillian’s heart sank. "What kind of rumors?"

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "That you’re using me to climb the social ladder. That you’re not fit to be near my son."

Anger flared in her chest. "Who would—?"

"Cassandra," Sebastian cut in. "And she’s not working alone."

Lillian exhaled sharply. Of course.

Sebastian stepped closer, his voice low. "I won’t tolerate this. But I need to know—are you prepared for what comes next?"

Lillian met his gaze without flinching. "Try me."

A flicker of approval crossed his face. "Good. Because this isn’t just about rumors anymore. It’s war."

The door creaked open, and Marcus Grayson strode in, his expression grim. "Alpha, we have another issue. Donovan’s been spotted near the border."

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. "Perfect timing."

Lillian’s stomach churned. Donovan. Her past was catching up to her faster than she’d anticipated.

And this time, running wasn’t an option.

I’m not threatening, I repeated silently in my mind. I’m here as a friend.

Shadow sniffed my fingers cautiously, and I slowly lowered my hand to the ground. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, the massive wolf licked my fingertips before trotting the rest of the way toward me, allowing me to stroke his thick fur. A smile tugged at my lips as I ran my fingers through his soft coat. His tail thumped excitedly against the ground, nearly knocking me off balance as the earth trembled beneath his weight.

"H—how did you do that?" Oliver blurted, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Shadow never likes strangers."

I shrugged casually. "Animals have always trusted me," I admitted. "When I was little, I had a dog named Caramel—she was the exact color of melted caramel." Oliver snorted at the name, and I grinned. Shadow nuzzled against me affectionately before padding back to his young master’s side. "My parents got her for me because they were never home. Caramel kept me company," I finished softly.

Something flickered in Oliver’s gaze—something that looked suspiciously like sadness—before he turned his attention back to Shadow. "My dad’s never home either," he muttered. "That’s why Shadow stays with me. He protects me from bad people. Like the last tutor—she only pretended to care about teaching me so she could get close to my father."

My stomach twisted. What kind of woman would use a child like that? Who was his father to her?

Theodore cleared his throat. "Why don’t I take Shadow back inside so you two can get better acquainted?" He stepped forward, but Shadow immediately bared his teeth in warning.

Oliver smirked. "Careful, Theodore. You might end up as his next snack."

Theodore muttered something under his breath—something I didn’t catch—but he managed to coax Shadow away, leaving me alone with Oliver.

The boy crossed his arms, studying me with sharp, assessing eyes. "You’ve got good reflexes," he conceded. "But that doesn’t mean you’re strong. Or smart."

I arched a brow. "If it’s my intelligence you’re questioning, I graduated top of my class in high school, and I’m currently a college student with honors." It felt ridiculous boasting to a seven-year-old, but Oliver wasn’t an ordinary child. He was sizing me up, testing me. "As for strength," I continued, "I’m training to be a Gamma warrior. How would you like me to prove myself?"

His lips curled into that mischievous smirk I was already learning to recognize. Trouble. I took a cautious step back.

"Let’s play a game," he announced suddenly.

I narrowed my eyes. "What kind of game?"

"Escape. Ever played it?"

Escape was a game where the opponent tried to break free from the other's hold. I'd only ever played it with people around my age—never with someone much younger. This was going to be interesting.

"Want to try escaping from me?" I asked him.

Oliver nodded eagerly, puffing out his chest. "I might be seven, but I'm really strong," he declared, hands planted firmly on his hips.

A grin tugged at my lips. "I don’t doubt that," I said, ruffling his hair. "Alright, let’s see what you’ve got."

Before he could even brace himself, I had him pinned to the ground. To his credit, he put up a decent fight—stronger than I expected. The way he strained against me made me wonder why a kid his age trained so hard. It took me a moment to adjust, but soon enough, I had him completely immobilized.

He wriggled beneath me, cheeks flushing pink with frustration. "I thought you were stronger than this?" I teased, unable to resist.

His pout deepened, and I laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. "If I’m your tutor, we can work on it," I promised.

Just as he made another valiant attempt to break free, footsteps echoed nearby. At first, I assumed it was Theodore returning, but then another set joined—lighter, quicker. Oliver went still, his head snapping toward the sound.

His face lit up like the sun breaking through storm clouds, a radiant smile I hadn’t seen from him before. "Dad!" he shouted, pure joy in his voice.

I turned my head—and my stomach dropped straight to the floor.

Standing there, watching us with an unreadable expression, was none other than Sebastian Blackwood.