Chapter 20

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 him like a trophy. A bitter taste lingered in her mouth. She had thought she was over him, but seeing them together had stirred something dark inside her.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

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

Lillian sighed, turning away from the view. "Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing Beatrice in a rumpled T-shirt and pajama bottoms, her hair a wild mess. "You look like you didn’t sleep at all."

"I didn’t," Lillian admitted, running a hand through her tangled curls.

Beatrice flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly. "So. Donovan’s back."

Lillian’s jaw clenched. "And he brought Evelyn with him."

"Ugh." Beatrice wrinkled her nose. "That girl has the personality of a wet sock."

Despite herself, Lillian snorted. "She’s his mate now. Officially."

"Officially boring," Beatrice muttered. Then, her expression softened. "You know he’s only doing this to get under your skin, right? He’s still bitter you rejected him."

Lillian crossed her arms. "Well, it’s working."

Beatrice sat up, suddenly serious. "You can’t let him win, Lil. You’ve got Sebastian now. And Oliver adores you. You’re building something real here."

Lillian’s chest tightened at the mention of Sebastian. The way he had looked at her last night—protective, possessive—had sent shivers down her spine. But doubt gnawed at her.

"What if I’m just a rebound for him too?" she whispered.

Beatrice scoffed. "Please. The man looks at you like you hung the moon. Donovan wishes he could inspire half that devotion."

Before Lillian could respond, her phone buzzed. A message from Sebastian:

"Meet me in the study. We need to talk."

Her stomach flipped.

Beatrice raised an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise?"

Lillian swallowed hard. "Or the opposite."

Sebastian’s study was bathed in warm lamplight when Lillian entered. He stood by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the dawn. The sight of him—so powerful, so untouchable—made her pulse quicken.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

He turned, his golden eyes locking onto hers. "Donovan’s presence complicates things."

Lillian stiffened. "I can handle him."

Sebastian stepped closer, his scent—cedar and something uniquely him—wrapping around her. "It’s not just him. Evelyn’s family has ties to the council. They could cause problems for us."

Lillian’s fingers curled into fists. "So what? You’re saying we should back down?"

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "No. I’m saying we play their game—and win."

Her breath caught. "How?"

Sebastian cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "By making it clear to everyone that you’re mine."

Her heart hammered. "And how do we do that?"

His voice dropped to a growl. "We give them a show they won’t forget."

Before she could ask what he meant, his lips crashed onto hers, hot and demanding. The world narrowed to the feel of him, the heat of his body pressed against hers.

And just like that, Lillian forgot all about Donovan.

For the first time since my father was taken by the pack Gammas, my mother was smiling.

"Oh, Lillian! You're home. Look who came to visit us," she said, her face glowing as she glanced at Donovan. "He told me he might be able to help us—if you cooperate with him." Her gaze flickered back to me, questioning.

I had told her Donovan refused to help. Yet here he was, twisting the truth, making it seem like I was the problem—like my unwillingness to bend to his demands was the reason he wouldn’t lift a finger. He hadn’t told her what those demands were, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to.

It would shatter her. And right now, I didn’t have the strength to pick up the pieces.

I was exhausted. All I wanted was to collapse into bed and forget this nightmare of a day. The last thing I needed was to deal with Donovan’s games.

Crossing my arms, I glared at him, my lips pressed into a thin line. That smug smirk of his made my skin crawl.

"What’s he doing here, Mom?" I asked, my voice sharp.

She frowned. "Is that any way to speak? I raised you better than that, Lillian. Donovan has been a friend to this family for years. He’s your mate, and he’s offering to help us in our time of need. Show some respect."

I clenched my jaw.

"Do I need to remind you we broke up?" I snapped, my eyes locked on Donovan, though my words were meant for both of them.

I needed them to understand—there was no going back. If my mother was hoping for some fairytale reconciliation, she was wasting her time.

"That doesn’t mean you can’t be civil," she countered. "He’s in the running to be our next Alpha. Regardless of your past, he deserves respect."

Donovan stood, and I instinctively stepped back, putting as much space between us as possible. My wolf had been eerily silent since we saw him at Sebastian’s villa with Victoria. I worried something was wrong—she hadn’t spoken since the day he rejected us.

"I apologize for intruding," Donovan said smoothly, that practiced smile still in place. But I heard the venom beneath his words. "I was hoping for a moment alone with you."

"In your dreams, Donovan," I spat. Then I turned on my heel and stormed out of the living room.

I wasn’t giving him another second of my time.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I hurried up the stairs. Just as I reached my door and pushed it open, a hand pressed against my lower back, shoving me forward. The door slammed shut behind me.

I whirled around.

Donovan stood there, arms crossed, his expression dark.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" I hissed.

His lips curled. "I should be the one asking you the questions," he shot back, voice dripping with bitterness. "What do you think you’re doing, parading around Sebastian Blackwood like that?"

My brows shot up.

"Excuse me?" I snapped, my voice laced with disbelief. "Since when is that any of your concern? Aren’t you engaged to his daughter?"

His smirk was infuriating. "Do you honestly believe throwing yourself at Sebastian will help free your father from prison?" Donovan scoffed, his tone dripping with condescension. "You’re deluding yourself if you think for a second a man like him would ever look twice at you."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "You do remember the marks on my neck not too long ago, don’t you?" I challenged, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

His expression darkened instantly at the reminder, and he took a threatening step forward. I retreated just as quickly, my pulse spiking.

"I made some inquiries," he murmured, his voice dangerously low. "Turns out Sebastian was heavily intoxicated that night. Hardly in his right mind." His gaze sharpened. "You must’ve seized the opportunity."

"Are you insane?" I hissed, my nails digging into my palms. "I did nothing of the sort!"

His cold laugh sent a shiver down my spine. "Who exactly are you trying to fool, Lillian? Because it’s not working on me. I know what you’re capable of—how far you’d go for your family. Even if it means selling yourself for a quick payout." He tilted his head, feigning sympathy. "Why not just accept my offer and end this pathetic charade?"

"Because I refuse to be your mistress, Donovan," I spat, my voice trembling with fury. "It’s degrading—to me, to you, and especially to Victoria. How can you even suggest something like this when you know it would destroy her?"

He rolled his eyes, unfazed. "Spare me the righteous act. You don’t give a damn about her."

"Someone has to," I growled.

Before I could react, his hands shot out, gripping my waist and yanking me against him. My breath hitched as my body collided with his hard chest, his scent—dark and intoxicating—flooding my senses.

"Just shut up," he muttered, and then his lips crashed into mine.

Rage burned through me as his mouth moved roughly against mine, his tongue demanding entry. I clenched my jaw shut, refusing to surrender. Once, his touch would’ve melted me. Now? All I felt was disgust.

The spark was gone.

And so was I.