Chapter 182

The morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Lillian's bedroom, casting golden streaks across the silk sheets. She stirred awake, her werewolf senses immediately alerting her to Sebastian's absence from their bed. The lingering scent of his cologne told her he hadn't been gone long.

Downstairs, the mansion buzzed with unusual activity. Lillian pulled on her robe and followed the sounds to the grand foyer where Sebastian stood in deep conversation with Marcus Grayson, his beta. Both men turned as her bare feet padded across the marble floor.

"Good morning, darling," Sebastian murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. The gesture was tender, but Lillian didn't miss the tension in his jaw.

"What's happening?" she asked, fingers tightening around her robe's belt.

Marcus exchanged a glance with Sebastian before answering. "We've received word from the Darkmoon pack. Alpha Maximilian is making his move earlier than expected."

Lillian's breath hitched. The annual Lycan Council gathering was still weeks away, but apparently their rival had other plans. She turned to Sebastian. "What does this mean for us?"

Before he could answer, little Oliver came barreling down the staircase, his pajama shirt half-buttoned. "Daddy! Victoria says there's going to be a war!"

Sebastian scooped up his son with one arm while keeping his other hand firmly on Lillian's waist. "No war, champ. Just some grown-up politics we need to handle."

But Lillian saw the truth in Sebastian's stormy gray eyes. The carefully maintained peace between packs was unraveling, and Alpha Maximilian's sudden aggression could spark the very conflict they'd all been trying to avoid.

Theodore Whitmore appeared in the doorway, his usually impeccable suit slightly rumpled from what must have been a rushed arrival. "Sir, the helicopter is ready. We need to leave within the hour if we're to meet with the other Alphas before sunset."

Lillian's heart pounded. She'd known this day would come eventually, but the reality of Sebastian leaving for potentially dangerous negotiations made her wolf whimper.

Sebastian turned to her, his expression softening. "I need you to stay here with Oliver and Victoria. Marcus will remain as well to ensure your safety."

She wanted to argue, to demand she accompany him, but the pleading look in Oliver's eyes kept her silent. Instead, she straightened her shoulders. "How long will you be gone?"

"A few days at most." He brushed his lips against hers. "Promise me you'll stay out of trouble."

Lillian forced a smile. "When have I ever caused trouble?"

Sebastian's chuckle was dark with promise. "I'll hold you to that, little wolf."

As she watched him stride toward the waiting vehicles, Lillian couldn't shake the feeling that their lives were about to change forever. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled despite the clear morning sky—an ominous warning of the storm to come.

A sly smirk curled my lips as I closed the distance between us, my bare feet silent against the polished hardwood floor. "Then perhaps we should make the most of this moment?" I murmured, my voice dripping with playful suggestion.

My arms wound around his neck, pulling our bodies flush together. The hard press of his arousal against my thigh sent a thrill through me—I loved the power I held over him, the way his control unraveled at my touch. His response was immediate, his strong arms banding around my waist, crushing me against him as his mouth claimed mine.

The kiss started slow, almost teasing, but quickly turned molten as his tongue swept past my lips. A breathy moan escaped me as I drowned in his scent, in the taste of him. His hands were everywhere, scattering papers and pens from his desk with one rough sweep, clearing space for me without breaking our kiss. The mess could wait. Right now, there was only this hunger between us.

He lifted me effortlessly, settling me onto the desk, and I hooked my legs around his hips, keeping him close. His lips trailed fire down my throat, nipping at the sensitive skin before moving lower. My bra loosened, then fell away, discarded without a second thought. I laughed softly as he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, leaving it swollen and tingling.

His mouth moved lower, tracing the curve of my shoulder before finding my breasts. I gasped as his teeth grazed a nipple, the sharp pleasure-pain making me arch into him. His hands kneaded my flesh, possessive and demanding, leaving faint marks in their wake. My fingers tangled in his hair as he worked me toward the edge, my breath coming in ragged pants.

"Sebastian," I moaned, grateful the office was empty, that no one could hear us.

His fingers hooked into the lace of my panties, and I lifted my hips, letting him strip them away. The dark hunger in his gaze sent a shiver through me. A low growl rumbled in his chest before he dropped to his knees, his mouth finding the slick heat between my thighs.

I cried out as his tongue flicked over my clit, my back bowing off the desk. Pleasure coiled tight in my belly, spiraling higher until I shattered around him, his name a broken whisper on my lips. He didn’t stop until I was trembling, until every last drop of pleasure had been wrung from me.

Then his mouth was on mine again, tasting of me, of us. I yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before running my hands over the sculpted planes of his chest. He was perfection—every hard line, every scar, every breath he took for me. I needed him inside me, needed to feel him like I needed air.

As if sensing my thoughts, he unfastened his pants, and I helped push them down, along with his boxers, freeing his thick length. My fingers wrapped around him, stroking slowly, drawing a ragged groan from his lips. His forehead pressed to mine, his breath hot against my skin as he fought for control.

Just as he moved to claim me, his phone rang.

A frustrated growl tore from his throat.

Part of me—the selfish, desperate part—wanted him to ignore it. But the rational part knew better. He was a man with responsibilities, and I’d already stolen him away from his work.

With a sigh, I released him. He kissed me once more, deep and lingering, before pulling away to grab his phone.

"Yes?" His voice was rough, strained.

A pause. Then—

"She's here now?" Another beat of silence. His fingers raked through his hair. "Fine. I'll be there."

He hung up, his expression torn between irritation and reluctant duty.

I bit my lip, watching him. Duty always won.

And just like that, the moment was over.