Chapter 208

The morning sun filtered through the heavy velvet curtains of Lillian's bedroom, casting golden streaks across the rumpled sheets. She groaned, rolling onto her back as the events of last night came rushing back with painful clarity.

Her phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. Beatrice's name flashed across the screen with a string of increasingly frantic messages:

"Lil, where are you?"

"Sebastian's looking for you!"

"You missed the pack meeting!"

Lillian's stomach twisted. She'd completely forgotten about the mandatory gathering. Throwing off the covers, she winced as her bare feet hit the cold marble floor. The penthouse suite Sebastian had booked for their stay at the resort felt suddenly oppressive.

A sharp knock at the door startled her. "Miss Whitaker? It's Marcus. You're needed downstairs immediately."

Lillian scrambled for her robe, fingers trembling as she tied the silk belt. "Just—just give me five minutes!"

She caught her reflection in the floor-length mirror and gasped. The delicate lace nightgown—a gift from Sebastian—was torn at the shoulder, revealing angry red marks along her collarbone. Memories of the dark forest, of rough hands and cruel laughter, sent bile rising in her throat.

The knock came again, more insistent this time. "We really must go. There's been... an incident."

When Lillian emerged, Marcus's usually composed face was tight with tension. His golden eyes flickered to her bruised neck before he quickly looked away. "The Chairman is waiting."

The elevator ride down to the conference level was excruciating. Lillian could feel Marcus's disapproval radiating off him in waves. When the doors slid open, the cacophony of raised voices hit her like a physical blow.

Sebastian stood at the center of the storm, his imposing frame radiating barely contained fury. Across from him, Alpha Maximilian Voss smirked, one arm draped possessively around a smug-looking Arabella Voss.

"—completely unacceptable behavior from your mate," Maximilian was saying, his voice dripping with false concern. "Attacking my daughter during the full moon? There will be consequences."

Sebastian's growl reverberated through the room. "Your daughter provoked her. The security footage proves it."

Lillian's breath caught. She remembered flashes—Arabella's taunting smile, the way she'd whispered about Oliver's accident, the sudden rush of red-hot rage—but the rest was a blur.

Then Sebastian turned, and his gaze locked onto hers. The raw emotion in his storm-gray eyes stole the air from her lungs. Not anger. Fear.

Marcus nudged her forward. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as she approached, whispers following in her wake.

Sebastian reached for her, then seemed to think better of it. "Are you hurt?" The question was barely audible, meant only for her.

Before she could answer, Arabella let out a dramatic gasp. "Look at her neck! Those are clearly mating marks!" She turned accusing eyes to Sebastian. "You claimed her during the challenge? That's against every tournament rule!"

The room erupted. Lillian's hand flew to her bruised skin as realization dawned. Those weren't just injuries from the fight—someone had tried to claim her last night. And it hadn't been Sebastian.

The world tilted dangerously. The last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her vision was Sebastian's face twisting in horror as he caught her collapsing form.

My arms encircled Lillian’s waist, lifting her effortlessly onto my lap as she let out a breathy, desperate moan. Her hips rolled against mine, seeking friction, seeking release. Every fiber of my being screamed to give in, but I knew better. If we crossed this line now, we’d both regret it. She wasn’t in her right mind—drugged, vulnerable. I couldn’t take advantage of her, no matter how much my wolf howled for me to claim her.

"Lillian..." My voice was rough, strained, as I brushed my lips against hers. She whimpered, her fingers tangling in my hair, trying to pull me closer. But I held her back, keeping just enough distance between us. "We can’t do this."

Her eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide with need, her gaze hazy and unfocused. She wasn’t herself—that much was painfully obvious.

"But I need you," she rasped, her voice thick with desperation. "Please, Sebastian..."

My name on her lips sent a jolt of heat straight through me, but I clenched my jaw. "No. You’re not in control right now. You were drugged."

"It hurts," she whined, arching against me, her body trembling.

I exhaled sharply, torn between restraint and the overwhelming urge to give her what she wanted. Reluctantly, I adjusted her on my lap, keeping her close but not letting her move against me. My fingers traced slow, soothing circles along her spine, and she shuddered, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Then her mouth found the sensitive skin of my neck, her teeth grazing, her tongue flicking out in a teasing caress. My eyes slammed shut as pleasure licked through me, her scent—sweet, intoxicating—wrapping around me like a vice.

"Lillian, stop," I growled, though my voice lacked conviction. "Not like this. Not here."

"But I want this," she murmured against my throat, her breath hot.

"You don’t know what you want right now," I insisted, even as my own resolve wavered.

Before I could argue further, the car rolled to a stop outside the mansion. Relief flooded me. I didn’t wait for Frederick to open the door—I shoved it open myself and scooped Lillian into my arms. She clung to me, her breathing ragged, her body burning against mine.

The halls were mercifully empty as I carried her upstairs, her whimpers muffled against my shoulder. The moment we reached the bedroom, I laid her on the bed and took a deliberate step back, putting space between us.

But Lillian had other plans.

Her fingers worked frantically at the buttons of her dress, peeling the fabric away until it pooled at her feet. Then her bra followed, leaving her in nothing but soaked panties that did nothing to hide her arousal. My mouth went dry. My wolf snarled, demanding I take what was being offered so freely.

Her breasts were flushed, her nipples hard and begging for attention. She cupped them in her hands, arching with a soft moan as her eyes locked onto mine—pleading, desperate.

Every instinct in me roared to give in.

But I wouldn’t.

Not like this.

Not when she wouldn’t even remember it tomorrow.

"This can't happen," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, rough with restraint.

"But I need you..." Lillian breathed, sliding off the bed with deliberate slowness. Her hips swayed with each step as she closed the distance between us, her gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse spike. "I need you to touch me."

Before I could protest further, she was already there—her arms winding around my neck, her body pressing flush against mine. The heat of her skin burned through the thin fabric of my shirt, and when her lips met mine in a soft, pleading kiss, my control shattered.

I tried to pull back, tried to remind myself why this was wrong, but the moment her fingers tangled in my hair, all reason fled. "Please..." she whispered against my mouth, her breath warm and sweet. "Touch me..."

A low growl rumbled in my chest as I gave in, my hands sliding down her waist, pulling her closer. I told myself this was just to help her, just to ease whatever torment had driven her to this moment—but that was a lie.

The truth was, I wanted this.

Lillian had clawed her way into my life, into my thoughts, until she was all I could think about. And now, with her body pressed against mine, her lips desperate and seeking, I knew I couldn't resist her.

Because I needed her just as much as she needed me.