Chapter 212

The morning sun filtered through the heavy velvet curtains of Sebastian Blackwood's private study, casting golden streaks across the antique mahogany desk where Lillian sat nervously twisting her fingers. The scent of aged leather and sandalwood enveloped her as she waited for the Lycan chairman to finish his phone call.

"Understood," Sebastian's deep voice resonated through the room as he ended the call. His storm-gray eyes locked onto Lillian's. "We have a situation."

Lillian's pulse quickened. "Is it Donovan again?"

Sebastian's jaw tightened as he strode to the window. "Worse. Evelyn has gone missing."

"What?" Lillian shot up from her chair, knocking over a crystal paperweight that Theodore Whitmore barely caught mid-air. "When? How?"

"Last night after the pack gathering," Marcus Grayson interjected, entering with a tablet displaying security footage. "She never returned to her quarters."

The footage showed Evelyn arguing with someone in the shadows near the east gardens. Lillian's breath hitched when the figure stepped into the light. "That's... Victoria?"

Sebastian's fist connected with the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster. "My own daughter."

Lillian reached for his arm instinctively, then hesitated. "We should—"

A crash from the hallway interrupted them. Oliver burst in, his small face flushed. "Papa! Aunt Penelope says there's blood near the old stables!"

The group exchanged alarmed glances. Sebastian was already moving. "Marcus, secure the perimeter. Theodore, alert the gammas. Lillian—"

"I'm coming with you," she insisted, her werewolf senses on high alert.

As they raced toward the stables, Lillian's mind whirled. Why would Victoria target Evelyn? Was this about Donovan? The pieces didn't fit—Victoria had seemed genuinely happy about her engagement ending.

The metallic tang of blood hit Lillian's nose before they reached the clearing. Crimson droplets led to a trampled patch of grass where something—or someone—had clearly struggled. Sebastian knelt, examining a torn piece of fabric.

"Evelyn's dress," he confirmed grimly.

Oliver tugged at Lillian's sleeve. "Look!" He pointed to strange markings in the dirt—not paw prints, but something more deliberate. Symbols.

Lillian's blood ran cold. "Those are ancient Lycan runes. For... binding."

Sebastian's phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number displayed a single image: Victoria unconscious in what appeared to be a stone cellar, her wrists bound with silver chains.

The message below read: "Trade. The human for your heir. Midnight. Come alone."

Lillian's claws unsheathed involuntarily. This wasn't just about Donovan anymore. Someone was playing a dangerous game with the Blackwood legacy.

And as the wind carried the faintest trace of wolfsbane, Lillian realized with dawning horror—they weren't dealing with werewolves at all.

"I love you, Victoria," Donovan murmured against her lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "Never forget that."

For a fleeting moment, hesitation flickered in her gaze, but she nodded, offering him a fragile smile before he sealed his words with one last kiss.

As she stepped out of the car and disappeared into the villa, Donovan waited until the door closed behind her before driving off. His destination? The Northern sector of the pack. The drive was long, the road winding through dense woods until he finally spotted the imposing silhouette of a grand mansion.

And there, parked in the driveway—Sebastian Blackwood’s car.

Donovan’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Just as he reached for the door handle, movement caught his eye.

Sebastian burst out of the front door, his usually immaculate appearance in disarray—shirt half-tucked, hair tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it. He barely spared a glance around before sliding into his car and speeding off, tires screeching against the pavement.

Donovan sat frozen, watching the taillights vanish into the night.

Sebastian hadn’t even noticed him.

His gaze snapped back to the mansion. Only one light remained on—a dim glow from the second floor, facing the heart of the pack. A shadow moved past the window, and Donovan’s breath hitched.

Was that—

Lillian?

She stood there, staring out into the darkness where Sebastian had disappeared. Her hair was mussed, her expression unreadable—but for a heartbeat, he swore he saw something raw in her eyes. Something like sorrow.

Then she turned away.

The light flicked off.

Silence.

Donovan’s mind raced. What the hell was Lillian doing here? And why was Sebastian sneaking out like a thief in the night?

He snatched his phone, dialing the one person who might have answers.

"Hello, big brother," Arabella’s voice chimed through the speaker, light and teasing. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mom said Lillian moved in with Beatrice," Donovan bit out, his tone sharp. "Was she lying?"

A beat of silence. Then—

"I... don’t think any of us really know where she went," Arabella admitted, her voice dropping. "It all happened so fast. One minute she was packing, the next—Alpha Blackwood’s warriors showed up to take her."

Donovan’s blood ran cold.

"What?" The growl tore from his throat as his grip on the phone turned white-knuckled. "Are you telling me she’s living with Sebastian Blackwood?"

"I didn’t say that!" Arabella yelped. "But—why would someone like her be involved with him?"

The unspoken implication hung between them.

And Donovan’s world tilted on its axis.

Sebastian? I’m just saying his men escorted her out and took her somewhere. I’m assuming she’s with her friend.”

Calling Beatrice and getting any useful information out of her was impossible, but Donovan had somehow spotted Lillian in the window of that massive mansion. If what Arabella was saying was true—that meant there was a real possibility Lillian was actually living with Sebastian.

And if Sebastian had left looking disheveled, hastily fixing his shirt—could they be involved with each other?

His grip tightened around the phone until his knuckles turned white. Donovan was seething, and keeping his wolf in check was becoming exhausting.

"I don’t know anything more than that," Arabella continued.

She didn’t need to say anything else—she had already given him enough. Without another word to his sister, he ended the call and slammed the phone onto the passenger seat.

He needed to get Lillian out of that mansion before he lost her for good.

He didn’t want to involve Victoria in this—he had nearly lost her the last time Lillian was involved—but he might not have a choice. If Victoria found out Lillian was living in that mansion, acting like her father’s little plaything, she would make sure Lillian never stepped foot in there again.

A slow, cruel smirk spread across Donovan’s face.

He knew exactly what he had to do.