Chapter 207

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Lillian's bedroom, casting golden patterns across the rumpled sheets. She stretched languidly, her werewolf senses immediately picking up the faint scent of bergamot and sandalwood lingering in the air - Sebastian's signature cologne.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Lillian? Breakfast is ready," Sophia's gentle voice called through the door.

"I'll be right down," Lillian replied, throwing off the covers. As her feet touched the plush carpet, memories of last night's confrontation with Donovan flooded back. The way his new mate Evelyn had clung to his arm, the venom in his eyes when he'd seen her with Sebastian - it all replayed in her mind like a broken record.

Downstairs, the dining room was unusually quiet. Only Oliver sat at the massive oak table, kicking his legs as he nibbled on toast. "Where's your father?" Lillian asked, taking the seat beside him.

Oliver shrugged. "Emergency pack meeting. Something about Alpha Harrison causing trouble again." He leaned closer, his whisper conspiratorial. "But Daddy said you're not to worry. Marcus is handling it."

Lillian's fingers tightened around her coffee cup. That name alone sent shivers down her spine. The memory of Alpha Harrison's drunken advances at the last pack gathering still made her skin crawl.

Theodore entered with a silver tray. "Your omelet, Miss Lillian. Chef Lucien prepared it specially - truffle and goat cheese, your favorite."

"Thank you," she murmured, though her appetite had vanished. The clock on the wall ticked ominously. In exactly three hours, she'd be facing Donovan and Evelyn again at the university's midterm presentations.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Beatrice: Don't freak out, but guess who's spreading rumors about you and Sebastian all over campus? Cassandra strikes again.

Lillian groaned. Just what she needed - more drama before her big presentation. She typed back: Meet me at the library in an hour. We need damage control.

As she gathered her books, Oliver tugged at her sleeve. "Will you pick me up from school today? Daddy might be busy."

The hopeful look in his eyes melted her heart. "Of course, sweetheart." She kissed his forehead, inhaling his childish scent of crayons and apple juice.

The drive to campus was tense. Every red light felt like the universe conspiring against her. When she finally parked, she spotted Nathaniel Whitlock leaning against his motorcycle, clearly waiting for her.

"Lillian," he called, pushing off his bike. "We need to talk about what happened at the-"

"Not now, Nathaniel," she cut him off, striding past. The last thing she needed was another confrontation, especially with someone who'd made his crush on her painfully obvious.

The library's heavy doors swung shut behind her with a definitive thud. Beatrice was already at their usual table, surrounded by open books and two steaming cups of coffee. "You look like hell," she observed bluntly.

"Feel like it too," Lillian admitted, collapsing into the chair. "What's Cassandra saying now?"

Beatrice slid a printed campus gossip blog across the table. The headline screamed: Scholarship Student Sleeping Her Way to the Top - Lillian's Secret Affair with Lycan Chairman Exposed.

Lillian's blood ran cold. Below the headline was a blurred photo of her and Sebastian leaving a restaurant last week. "This is ridiculous! We were discussing Oliver's school project!"

"I know," Beatrice soothed. "But the damage is done. Half the campus believes it, including Professor Sinclair." She hesitated. "And Donovan's been telling everyone you're a gold-digger."

The words hit like a physical blow. Lillian's vision swam as the library walls seemed to close in around her. She'd known Donovan was bitter, but this? This was downright cruel.

A new text notification popped up - Sebastian this time: Heard about the rumors. Don't engage. We'll handle this together after your presentation. Focus on your work.

Easier said than done, Lillian thought bitterly as the clock ticked closer to presentation time. The walk to the lecture hall felt like marching to her execution. Students whispered behind their hands as she passed. Some smirked; others looked at her with outright pity.

Then she saw them - Donovan and Evelyn, standing right outside the lecture hall doors. Evelyn's arm was possessively looped through Donovan's, her designer dress probably costing more than Lillian's entire wardrobe.

"Ready to embarrass yourself, scholarship girl?" Evelyn sneered as Lillian approached. "Or are you hoping your special friend will bail you out again?"

Donovan's smirk made her stomach churn. "Maybe she'll cry to get sympathy points. Worked on Blackwood, apparently."

Lillian's hands shook, but she lifted her chin. "Unlike some people, I actually earned my place here." She brushed past them, ignoring Evelyn's indignant gasp.

Inside, Professor Sinclair was already setting up the projector. He gave Lillian a disapproving once-over. "Miss Lillian, I hope you're prepared. This presentation counts for forty percent of your grade."

She swallowed hard. "I am, Professor."

As she took her seat in the front row, her phone buzzed once more. An unknown number this time: Watch your back, little wolf. The game's just getting started.

The lights dimmed for the first presentation. Lillian's pulse pounded in her ears. Whoever was behind these threats - Donovan, Cassandra, maybe even Alpha Harrison - they weren't going to stop until they destroyed her.

But she refused to go down without a fight.

The moment my growl echoed through the dimly lit hallway, the man clutching Lillian froze. His grip loosened as he turned, his face paling when he recognized who stood before him.

"Let. Her. Go." My voice was a lethal whisper, laced with the promise of violence.

Trembling, he lowered Lillian to the ground. Her head lolled to the side, her body limp, barely able to stay upright. My nostrils flared—this wasn’t just alcohol. The scent was wrong.

She’d been drugged.

The second his hands left her, I struck. My fist connected with his face with a sickening crunch. He hit the floor, blood gushing from his shattered nose.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Beatrice stumbled out, her movements sluggish. She froze, her glassy eyes widening when she took in the scene—the unconscious man, Lillian’s limp form, and me, standing over them both.

"A-Alpha Blackwood?" Her voice slurred, her pupils blown wide from intoxication. Then her gaze landed on Lillian, and she gasped. "Lillian?!" She dropped to her knees beside her friend, shaking her weakly. "Wake up! What did he do to you?!" Tears spilled down her cheeks.

I turned back to the man writhing on the floor and let my wolf surge forward, just enough for him to feel the raw, predatory energy rolling off me.

"If I ever catch you near her again," I snarled, "you won’t live to regret it."

He whimpered, clutching his broken nose, his entire body shaking. But I had no more time for him. Lillian was burning up in my arms, her breath shallow, her skin feverish. Whatever he’d given her was forcing her into heat.

A deep, warning growl rumbled from my chest, sending the lingering onlookers scrambling back. Even Beatrice flinched, her drunken haze doing little to dull her instinctive fear.

"Follow me," I ordered.

She knew better than to argue. Nodding quickly, she scrambled to her feet and trailed behind me as I carried Lillian through the now-silent house and out into the cool night air.

Frederick was already waiting by the car. The moment he saw us, he rushed to open the back door.

"Is she alright?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.

"Take Beatrice home first," I commanded. "Then bring Lillian back to the estate."

"Yes, Alpha." He helped Beatrice into the car while I carefully secured Lillian in the backseat, buckling her in before stepping back.

The night was far from over.

The seatbelt clicked into place as I slid in beside Lillian, unwilling to let her out of my sight for even a second. The air inside the car was thick with tension, her scent intoxicating, making it hard to focus on anything but her.

The drive felt endless. Traffic crawled at a snail's pace, and after dropping Beatrice off, every minute stretched into an eternity. Lillian’s breathing grew ragged beside me, her body radiating heat as she pressed closer. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply, her warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

I tightened my arms around her, trying to steady her, but it only seemed to make her burn hotter. Her fingers traced slow, teasing paths up my chest, her touch igniting fire beneath my skin.

"Sebastian..." Her voice was a breathless whisper, rough with need. It was the first time she'd spoken since I'd taken her from the party. Her lips, swollen and parted, glistened in the dim light, begging to be claimed. The sight alone was enough to unravel my self-control.

But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—take advantage of her like this. Not when she wasn’t in her right mind.

Yet, when her lips brushed against my jaw, featherlight and desperate, my resolve wavered. She trailed kisses along my cheek, her breath hitching as she neared my mouth.

I couldn’t resist.

Just one taste.

The moment our lips met, I let my tongue slip past hers, savoring the sweetness of her. A soft, needy moan escaped her as I deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. She responded instantly, pressing her body flush against mine, her fingers tangling in my hair.

Her touch was electric, every movement sending waves of desire crashing through me.

But I forced myself to pull back, gripping the seat to steady my racing heart.

"Lillian," I murmured, my voice rough. "We can't—not like this."

She whimpered, her eyes glazed with need. "Please... help me."

The plea nearly shattered me.

But I wouldn’t cross that line.

Not yet.

Not until she was fully herself again.

The car rolled to a stop outside the mansion, and I exhaled sharply, gathering my frayed control.

This wasn’t over.

But for now, I had to be strong.

For her.