Chapter 14

The moment the words left Donovan's lips, Lillian felt her entire world tilt on its axis. Her breath hitched, her pulse roaring in her ears like a storm.

"You're my fated mate?"

The words tasted bitter, unreal. She had spent months convincing herself that the bond between them was nothing more than a cruel trick of fate—something to be ignored, something she had to ignore.

But now, standing in the dimly lit hallway of Sebastian Blackwood’s estate, Donovan’s dark eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her knees weak. His scent—spiced cedar and something distinctly him—wrapped around her, pulling at instincts she had fought so hard to suppress.

She took a step back, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "That's impossible," she whispered.

Donovan’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. "Is it?" He took a slow step forward, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. "You felt it too, didn’t you? That pull. That need."

Lillian’s throat tightened. She had felt it. Every time he was near, every time their eyes met, her wolf had stirred restlessly beneath her skin, yearning for something she refused to acknowledge.

But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—give in. Not after everything.

"You left me," she said, her voice trembling. "You chose Evelyn. You rejected me."

His jaw clenched, shadows flickering across his expression. "I was a fool."

A bitter laugh escaped her. "And now what? You think you can just waltz back into my life and claim me?"

Donovan’s gaze darkened. "I don’t think anything, Lillian. I know." He closed the distance between them in one swift stride, his hand catching hers before she could retreat further. "Fate doesn’t make mistakes."

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as his fingers intertwined with hers, sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. The bond between them flared to life, undeniable, inescapable.

And for the first time, she was terrified—not of him, but of the part of her that wanted this.

A door creaked open down the hall, and suddenly, Sebastian’s deep voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Lillian?"

She flinched, yanking her hand free as if burned.

Donovan’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes never leaving hers. "This isn’t over."

And as Sebastian’s imposing figure rounded the corner, Lillian realized with dawning horror that the game had just become infinitely more complicated.

Because now, she had two wolves vying for her heart.

And one of them was her fated mate.

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the lavish bedroom, rousing Lillian from her restless sleep. She blinked against the light, her body still humming with the remnants of last night’s adrenaline. The scent of pine and musk clung to the sheets—Sebastian’s scent. A shiver ran down her spine as fragmented memories of their heated argument resurfaced.

"You don’t get to decide what’s best for me!"

Her fists clenched. She hated how easily he could unravel her composure.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Lillian?" Sophia, the head maid, peeked in, balancing a silver tray. "Breakfast is ready. Alpha Blackwood requested you join him in the dining room."

Lillian groaned inwardly. Of course he did.

She dragged herself out of bed, her muscles protesting from yesterday’s training session with Professor Montgomery. The bruises on her arms were already fading, thanks to her werewolf healing, but the sting of humiliation lingered.

Downstairs, the dining hall was bathed in sunlight, the long mahogany table set with delicate china. Sebastian sat at the head, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit, his dark eyes scanning documents. Oliver, his son, was animatedly recounting his latest adventure to Theodore, the butler.

Sebastian glanced up as she entered, his gaze sharp. "Sleep well?"

Lillian ignored the sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Like a baby."

Oliver beamed. "Lillian! Did you know Uncle Nathaniel is visiting from Paris next week? He promised to bring me macarons!"

She forced a smile. "That’s exciting."

Sebastian set his papers aside. "We have a situation."

Lillian stiffened. "What now?"

"Donovan’s pack is challenging our territory rights near the northern border. They’re claiming it was part of Evelyn’s dowry."

Her blood ran cold. Evelyn. The mere mention of Donovan’s new mate made her stomach twist.

Sebastian leaned forward, his voice low. "I need you to come with me to the council meeting tonight."

"Why?" She crossed her arms. "So you can use me as leverage?"

His jaw tightened. "So you can finally stop running from your past."

The air between them crackled with tension.

Oliver, oblivious, piped up, "Can I come too?"

Theodore chuckled. "I’m afraid not, young master. But how about we visit the stables after breakfast?"

As the conversation shifted, Lillian’s mind raced. She had avoided facing Donovan since their bond shattered. But Sebastian was right—she couldn’t hide forever.

And if Donovan thought he could manipulate her through pack politics, he had another thing coming.

My gaze lingered on Sebastian's throat as his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

Only when he straightened his posture and tilted his head toward me did I realize how close I was standing. My breath hitched, and I swallowed hard, fighting the inexplicable urge to reach out and trace the strong line of his jaw.

What is wrong with me lately?

It had to be the aftermath of Donovan’s betrayal. The wound was still fresh, my wolf subdued in grief. Yet whenever Sebastian was near, she stirred—awakening just a little more each time.

She liked him.

But the pain of our broken mate bond still throbbed beneath my skin. The mark Donovan had left on my neck burned whenever he so much as glanced at Victoria. The agony of rejection was relentless.

No wonder I was clinging to the first attractive man who crossed my path.

The corners of Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk.

"I keep my professional and personal lives separate," he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent warmth spiraling through me. My cheeks burned. "I don’t want my staff thinking I harass my subordinates. Dress appropriately—nothing suggestive."

My jaw nearly dropped. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared, uncaring that he was a Lycan Alpha and that defiance was dangerous. Most Alphas would take direct eye contact as a challenge.

"This is normal college attire," I snapped. "Are you really that archaic?"

His brows lifted.

"Are you seriously questioning me?" His tone sharpened. "Or have you forgotten who signs your paychecks now?"

I opened my mouth to retort—then snapped it shut.

Right.

Sebastian Blackwood was my employer. His rules dictated my paycheck. And my parents desperately needed the money. This job was too good to risk over something as petty as wardrobe choices.

Better to comply.

"I apologize," I forced out. "That was disrespectful. I’ll dress more conservatively next time."

He studied me for a long moment before giving a single nod.

"Inside. We’ll discuss your schedule, and my Beta will draft your contract."

He turned toward the mansion. I followed—

Then froze.

A rustling sound came from the bushes. Before I could react, Oliver sprang out, water gun in hand.

No.

My white crop top would turn transparent if soaked. I barely had time to gasp before a stream of water shot toward me—

Sebastian moved faster than I thought possible.

In an instant, he was in front of me, his arms wrapping protectively around my body. The warmth of his embrace cocooned me, shielding me from the spray. Water drenched his shirt instead.

Oliver’s laughter rang out.

A low, warning growl rumbled from Sebastian’s chest.

His Wrath Was Palpable

Sebastian's intoxicating cologne enveloped me, sending my pulse into overdrive as his towering frame pressed against mine. Before I could stop myself, I melted into his embrace, hyperaware of every sculpted ridge of his torso molding against my back. His powerful arms cinched around my waist like steel bands, igniting a wildfire across my skin that pooled low in my belly.

A feral growl rumbled from his chest, his heated breath skating across my nape. My breath hitched as goosebumps erupted everywhere his lips nearly grazed. The air thickened with the scent of my traitorous desire—could he detect how shamelessly my body responded to him?

Then he was gone. The sudden absence of his touch left me shivering as he whirled toward his snickering son. "Oliver Blackwood," Sebastian snarled, voice dripping with lethal calm. "Explain this disobedience."

The boy's laughter died instantly. When I glimpsed his ashen face, even his freckles seemed to pale under his father's glacial stare. Oliver's small fingers twisted together—a rare show of nerves from the usually bold child.