Chapter 186

The morning sunlight streamed through the grand windows of the Blackwood mansion, casting a golden glow over the marble floors. I stretched slightly, my stomach growling in protest.

"I'm absolutely famished," I confessed, rubbing my temples. "Could he possibly make more? Sebastian is here too."

Giselle arched a perfectly shaped brow, and I could practically see the questions swirling behind her sharp gaze. But she merely pressed her lips together and nodded. "Of course," she replied smoothly, her tone as polished as the silverware she arranged on the counter.

Not a moment later, Lucien strode into the kitchen, arms laden with fresh ingredients. The moment his dark eyes landed on me, his lips curved into that infamous, heart-stopping smirk.

"Do you have a preference for waffles, darling?" he asked, setting everything down with effortless grace.

I couldn't help but smile. "I adore waffles."

"Perfect," he purred, already reaching for the mixing bowl. "Waffles for the stunning Lillian, coming right up."

Heat rushed to my cheeks at the compliment, but Lucien, ever the charmer, didn’t stop there. He caught the lingering gazes of the kitchen staff—all of whom were practically swooning—and threw them a playful wink. One of the younger maids clutched her chest dramatically, as if she might faint on the spot.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the laugh bubbling up in my throat.

The moon hung low over Blackwood Manor as Lillian paced her bedroom, the silk nightgown whispering against her skin. Outside, the first snow of winter dusted the grounds like powdered sugar. She paused by the window, watching her breath fog the glass.

A knock startled her. "Come in," she called, smoothing her hair.

The door creaked open to reveal Sebastian Blackwood, his broad shoulders nearly filling the frame. Moonlight caught the silver streaks in his dark hair as he stepped inside. "Couldn't sleep?" His deep voice resonated through the room.

Lillian shook her head. "Too much on my mind." She gestured to the stack of textbooks on her desk. "Finals are next week."

Sebastian moved closer, the scent of pine and leather wrapping around her. "You'll do fine." His thumb brushed her cheek. "But that's not what's really bothering you, is it?"

She hesitated, then sighed. "Donovan texted me today."

Sebastian's jaw tightened. "What did he want?"

"To meet. Says it's urgent." Lillian twisted the edge of her nightgown. "He claims Evelyn left him."

A low growl rumbled in Sebastian's chest. "Don't go. It's a trap."

"I know but..." Lillian bit her lip. "What if he's telling the truth? What if he needs help?"

Sebastian cupped her face, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze. "After everything he's done? The lies? The betrayal?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're too kind for your own good, little wolf."

Downstairs, a door slammed. They both tensed.

"Oliver's home from his sleepover," Sebastian murmured, glancing at the clock. "Two hours past curfew."

Lillian smiled despite herself. "Your son takes after you."

"Stubborn as a mule, you mean." Sebastian sighed. "I should go deal with this."

As he turned to leave, Lillian caught his hand. "Wait. About Donovan... I won't go alone. But I need to know the truth."

Sebastian studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Marcus will go with you. And you'll check in every hour." His grip tightened. "Promise me."

"I promise." She rose on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. "Thank you."

As Sebastian left to discipline his wayward son, Lillian returned to the window. Snowflakes swirled in the lamplight, beautiful yet fleeting. Like trust, she thought. Once broken, could it ever truly be mended?

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Another message from Donovan: "Tomorrow. Noon. The old boathouse. Please."

Lillian's fingers hovered over the screen. This could be a mistake. But some questions demanded answers. With a deep breath, she typed a single word: "Okay."

Outside, the wind howled through the trees, carrying whispers of danger on the winter air.

Giselle rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Don't you ladies have anything better to do?" she snapped, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and leveling a glare at the giggling maids.

Lucien smirked, unfazed.

"Now, Giselle, no need to be jealous," he teased, nudging her shoulder playfully. "You know you're still my favorite."

"I'm not jealous," she growled, spinning to face him, her cheeks already heating. "But flirting on the job is unprofessional."

"That's not what you were saying the other night," Lucien murmured in a low, suggestive whisper—just loud enough for the rest of us to catch.

My eyes widened as Giselle’s face flushed from pink to deep crimson. Had they…? My curiosity spiked. There was definitely something going on between them, and I was suddenly far too invested in figuring it out.

"We weren’t working," she hissed through clenched teeth. "I need to run to the store. I’ll be back." With that, she spun on her heel and practically fled the kitchen, looking mortified.

I turned to Lucien, who was chuckling and shaking his head.

"She gets embarrassed so easily," he mused, still amused. "I don’t get it. It was just sex. Not a big deal."

I crossed my arms, watching as he moved gracefully around the kitchen, his hands deftly handling the ingredients.

"Maybe to you it wasn’t a big deal," I pointed out. "But did you ever consider it might mean something to her?"

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at me.

"Not my fault she changed her mind," he said with a shrug. "We agreed—no strings. Just scratching an itch. Nothing more."

"Is that the kind of guy you are?" I arched a brow. "The type who treats intimacy like it’s meaningless?"

He quirked an eyebrow in return, then braced his hands on the counter, leaning in so close that if he moved another inch, his lips would brush mine.

"Want to find out?" His voice dropped to a sultry murmur.

Just as I started to pull back, the kitchen door slammed shut, making Lucien instinctively straighten up.

"Lucien, I didn’t hire you to flirt. I hired you to cook," Sebastian’s deep voice cut through the room like a blade, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

Amusement still danced in Lucien’s eyes, but he wisely didn’t argue. "Yes, Alpha," he replied smoothly, turning back to the stove.

I stifled a laugh as Lucien quickly resumed cooking, and Sebastian took the seat beside me.

"He’s harmless," I murmured under my breath.

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"He’s a man with one thing on his mind. Be careful around him," he muttered back.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Do you only have one thing on your mind too?" I challenged.

His gaze locked onto mine, and the intensity in his eyes made my smile falter. I couldn’t read his expression, and the uncertainty twisted my stomach into knots. He studied me for a long moment before speaking.

"What exactly do you think this is?" he asked abruptly.

"Excuse me?" I blinked.

He gestured between us. "This. What do you think we’re doing?"

My cheeks burned at the question, and I had to look away, focusing on the counter instead. He kept his voice low enough that the others in the kitchen either didn’t hear or pretended not to.

After a beat of silence, I answered, "We’re just having fun. Right? Helping each other out. Scratching an itch."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

"Right," he said finally. "Guess that answers your question."