Chapter 159

The crisp morning air carried the scent of pine as Lillian stepped onto the balcony of Sebastian Blackwood’s estate. The sun had barely risen, casting a golden hue over the sprawling gardens below. She tightened the silk robe around her, the fabric whispering against her skin.

Last night’s events replayed in her mind—Donovan’s sudden reappearance, the venom in his words, the way Evelyn had clung to his arm like a trophy. A bitter taste lingered in her mouth. She had thought she was over him, but seeing him again had stirred emotions she’d buried deep.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Lillian?” Beatrice’s voice was muffled through the door. “Are you awake?”

Lillian sighed, rubbing her temples. “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and Beatrice slipped inside, her usual bubbly demeanor replaced with concern. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all.”

“I didn’t,” Lillian admitted, sinking into the plush armchair by the window. “Too much on my mind.”

Beatrice perched on the edge of the bed, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweater. “It’s about Donovan, isn’t it?”

Lillian didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

“You can’t let him get to you,” Beatrice said firmly. “He’s not worth it. Not after everything he put you through.”

“I know.” Lillian’s voice was barely a whisper. “But seeing him with Evelyn—it’s like he’s rubbing it in my face.”

Beatrice’s expression darkened. “That’s exactly what he’s doing. He wants a reaction from you. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

Lillian exhaled sharply. “Easier said than done.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the distant chirping of birds. Then Beatrice grinned, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “You know what you need? A distraction.”

Lillian arched a brow. “What kind of distraction?”

“Sebastian’s hosting a charity gala tonight,” Beatrice said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Black-tie event, high-profile guests, open bar—the works.”

Lillian groaned. “I’m not in the mood for socializing.”

“Exactly why you should go,” Beatrice countered. “Dress up, show Donovan what he’s missing, and remind yourself that you’re the Luna of this pack now. You’re not the same girl he walked away from.”

Lillian hesitated. The idea of facing Donovan again so soon made her stomach churn, but Beatrice had a point. Hiding wouldn’t change anything.

“Fine,” she relented. “But if I end up throwing a drink in his face, I’m blaming you.”

Beatrice laughed, tossing a pillow at her. “Deal.”

As Beatrice left to prepare for the day, Lillian turned back to the window. The sun was higher now, bathing the estate in warm light.

Tonight would be a test—of her strength, her resolve, and her ability to move forward.

And she refused to fail.

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the campus quad, her boots crunching against the gravel path. Her phone buzzed—another message from Donovan. She ignored it, just as she had the last dozen.

Across the courtyard, Cassandra smirked, whispering something to her clique. Lillian clenched her fists but kept walking. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Beatrice caught up to her, breathless. "You won’t believe what I just heard," she said, looping her arm through Lillian’s. "Sebastian’s hosting a gala at Blackwood Manor next week. The entire elite pack is invited."

Lillian’s pulse stuttered. "Why would he do that now?"

Beatrice shrugged. "Rumor has it he’s announcing something big. Maybe about his engagement to Victoria?"

A cold weight settled in Lillian’s stomach. She forced a laugh. "Good for them."

But Beatrice wasn’t fooled. "You still care about him, don’t you?"

Before Lillian could answer, a sleek black car pulled up beside them. The window rolled down, revealing Sebastian’s sharp profile. "Get in," he said, his voice brooking no argument.

Beatrice gaped. Lillian hesitated, but curiosity won out. She slid into the leather seat, the door clicking shut behind her.

Sebastian didn’t look at her. "We need to talk."

The car pulled away, leaving Beatrice standing in stunned silence.

Lillian crossed her arms. "About what? Your upcoming engagement?"

His jaw tightened. "That’s not happening."

"Then what—"

"Someone’s targeting you," he interrupted, finally meeting her gaze. His eyes burned with intensity. "And I won’t let them hurt you again."

Lillian’s breath caught. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension.

Outside, the city blurred past. Whatever Sebastian wasn’t saying, it was big. And this time, she wouldn’t run from it.

I let out a heavy sigh, chewing on the inside of my cheek until I tasted the faint tang of copper.

"She doesn't even realize how bad things are for me," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "When I tried to talk to her about it, she just told me I should be grateful to the Winslow family and stop complaining." Beatrice rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck.

"Completely delusional," she muttered under her breath.

"Her mate is in prison, Bea. She's allowed to be a little out of touch. I just... I need her to be okay." My throat tightened. "If anything happened to her—if they treated her the way they treat me—"

Tears spilled over before I could stop them. I swiped at them hastily, glancing around to make sure no one saw.

"This isn't fair to you," Beatrice murmured, her voice softening. "Have you eaten? You look like you've dropped ten pounds in a week."

I bit my lip. Truth was, I hadn’t eaten much these past few days. The servants' food was barely edible, and my appetite had vanished under the weight of everything.

"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a weak smile.

My gaze flickered to the clock, and I exhaled sharply.

"I should go," I told her. "I don’t want to be late tonight."

"Make sure you turn in your assignments," she called after me as I headed toward the parking lot.

I waved over my shoulder without looking back. My Uber was already on its way, but I wasn’t expecting to see the sleek black luxury car idling at the curb. My stomach twisted as the window rolled down, revealing Marcus Grayson behind the wheel.

"Marcus?" My brows furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I have news for you," he said, his expression unreadable.

I took a step back, crossing my arms. "If Sebastian knew you were here, you’d be in deep trouble."

"He’s the one who sent me," Marcus said, catching me off guard. "He had urgent business at the estate and couldn’t come himself, but—"

"How convenient," I muttered under my breath.

Just then, my Uber pulled up with a quick honk. I motioned for the driver to wait and turned back to Marcus.

"I have to go," I said flatly, spinning on my heel.

I heard his car door slam shut, followed by quick footsteps.

"Lillian, wait. Please, just hear me out," he pleaded.

I had nothing left to say to him—or to anyone tied to Sebastian Blackwood.

Whatever Marcus had to say wouldn’t change a thing.

"I really need to go, Marcus," I said, turning away from him.

"We uncovered the truth. It was one of the maids who poisoned Oliver—not you." My entire body froze just as my fingers brushed the car door handle. I had been so sure it was Victoria, given how suspiciously she’d been acting. Never in a million years would I have guessed it was one of Sebastian’s most trusted staff.

"Are you certain?" I asked, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Yes. She confessed everything. She’s been exiled from the pack and forbidden from joining any other," Marcus explained.

I sucked in a sharp breath, slowly turning to face him.

"That’s practically a death sentence," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus nodded, running a hand through his tousled hair. "She nearly killed his son. Of course he’s furious. You can’t blame him for being angry—or for worrying about Oliver’s safety."

I sighed. "No, of course not," I said softly. "But he wouldn’t even hear me out. I understand he was upset, but he cast me aside like I meant nothing, Marcus."

"And he regrets that," Marcus insisted. "If you’d just give him a chance—"

"A chance?" I scoffed. "If he wants forgiveness, he can damn well apologize himself." I yanked the car door open but hesitated before sliding inside.

"How is Oliver?"

"He was discharged today," Marcus said. "He’s recovering well... but he misses you."

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away before they could fall.

"Thank you for telling me, Marcus. I appreciate the update. But if Alpha Blackwood is truly sorry, he’ll have to say it to my face—not send his Beta to do it for him."

"I understand," Marcus murmured, stepping back.

I didn’t spare him another glance as I climbed into the car and slammed the door shut. The Uber pulled away just as the first tear escaped, tracing a hot path down my cheek.