Chapter 234

The morning sun filtered through the silk 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 had already left for his morning meeting.

Her phone buzzed violently on the nightstand. Beatrice's name flashed across the screen with three consecutive messages:

"Emergency brunch. NOW."

"Don't even think about saying no."

"Oliver spilled grape juice on your favorite designer blouse."

Lillian groaned, dragging herself out of bed. The marble floors felt cool beneath her bare feet as she padded to the walk-in closet. Her fingers brushed against the silk blouse in question - now sporting a suspicious purple stain near the hem.

"Damn it, Oliver," she muttered, though without real heat. The seven-year-old had wormed his way into her heart despite his mischievous streak.

The penthouse elevator doors slid open to reveal Beatrice pacing the foyer, her stiletto heels clicking against the polished floors. "Finally!" she exclaimed, grabbing Lillian's wrist. "We have a situation."

"What now?" Lillian allowed herself to be dragged toward the private elevator. "Did Donovan do something stupid again?"

"Worse." Beatrice's expression turned grim as the elevator descended. "Victoria's back in town."

Lillian's stomach dropped. Sebastian's daughter had been studying abroad since the disastrous engagement party where Donovan had publicly rejected her. "When?"

"Last night. And guess who picked her up from the airport?" Beatrice's grip tightened. "Your dear ex-fated mate himself."

The elevator doors opened to the building's private café where Oliver sat swinging his legs, a guilty expression on his face as he poked at a stack of pancakes. Theodore, Sebastian's ever-composed butler, stood nearby with a discreet stain remover kit.

"Miss Lillian," Theodore greeted smoothly. "Might I suggest changing into the emerald Balmain dress for today's... unexpected developments?"

Lillian barely registered his words as her phone buzzed again. An unknown number. The message contained only a single image: Donovan's arm draped casually around Victoria's shoulders as they exited a black town car, both smiling like conspirators.

Beatrice snatched the phone, her eyes widening. "That's taken outside Blackwood Enterprises. They're meeting Sebastian right now."

Oliver chose that moment to look up, syrup smeared across his cheek. "Aunt Lillian? Daddy said if Victoria comes home, we have to be extra nice to her. But I don't wanna." His lower lip trembled. "She's mean."

Theo placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now, Master Oliver, we mustn't—"

The sound of shattering glass cut him off. Lillian stood amidst the remains of her coffee cup, her wolf eyes flashing amber. "They're plotting something," she growled. "Donovan wouldn't just show up with Victoria unless..."

Beatrice finished her thought: "Unless they're making a move against Sebastian."

The café doors burst open, revealing Marcus Grayson, Sebastian's beta, his usually impeccable suit rumpled from haste. "Miss Whitaker," he gasped. "You need to come immediately. Alpha Harrison just arrived at headquarters with a formal challenge against Mr. Blackwood."

Lillian's blood ran cold. The pieces clicked into place - Donovan's sudden reappearance, Victoria's convenient return, now this challenge from one of Sebastian's oldest rivals.

Beatrice was already dialing her sister Isabella, the fashion model who moved in elite circles. "We need intel on Victoria's activities abroad," she hissed into the phone.

Oliver tugged at Lillian's sleeve, his blue eyes wide with childish understanding. "They're being bullies, aren't they?"

Lillian crouched to his level, forcing calm into her voice. "Your father can handle bullies, sweetheart. But we're going to help him, okay?"

As Theodore handed her a fresh phone (she'd apparently crushed hers), Lillian's mind raced. This wasn't just about pack politics anymore - someone was playing a dangerous game with her family. And the werewolf princess had learned one vital lesson since coming to live with the Blackwoods: nobody threatened what was hers.

Not Donovan. Not Victoria. Not even an entire pack of rival lycans.

"Marcus," she said, her voice steady with newfound resolve. "Take me to Sebastian. Now."

Lillian's POV

Sebastian wanted to take me out tonight. His text had been brief—Be ready by seven—but my pulse had spiked the moment I read it. After leaving the kitchen this morning, I’d locked myself in my room for an hour-long soak, desperate to scrub away the tension clinging to me like a second skin.

I’d tried calling Beatrice three times already, but her phone was off, every attempt shunted straight to voicemail. Even my texts sat unread, little blue bubbles mocking my worry. My chest ached. She didn’t deserve this. Lucien didn’t deserve to put her through this.

School tomorrow meant I’d see her, but now—now, I needed to know she was okay. Wrapping a towel around myself, I yanked the drain plug and caught my reflection in the fogged mirror. Dark circles bruised my under-eyes; my hair hung in damp, tangled waves. A sigh escaped me. Pulling off presentable for Sebastian tonight would take a miracle.

A knock rattled my door. I whirled, heart lurching—Beatrice?—but logic snuffed the hope instantly. Still, when I swung the door open, the sight of Giselle froze me mid-step. Her usually pristine bun sagged, her nose was blotchy, and her red-rimmed eyes told me everything.

We weren’t close—not like Lucien and I were—but the raw pain on her face twisted something in me.

"Giselle?" My voice softened. "Are you okay?"

She swiped at her cheeks, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Fine. Just checking if you needed anything. I’ve been... distracted lately."

I waved her off. "Don’t apologize. But you—yesterday was brutal. Are you sure you’re—"

"I’m fine," she cut in, too quickly. Then, quieter: "I just... need a distraction."

An idea sparked. Grinning, I grabbed her wrist and hauled her inside, shutting the door behind us. She stumbled, blinking, and I laughed. "Perfect. I have a sort-of date tonight."

Her flinch was immediate. Right—dating was the last thing she wanted to think about.

"Not officially dating," I amended. "Sebastian’s... complicated."

A flicker of understanding crossed her face. "I know complicated."

"Figured you would." I flopped onto the bed. "Haven’t seen him in days, and now he wants dinner. Problem? I look like I haven’t slept since the Stone Age."

Giselle studied me, then smirked. "Wasn’t gonna say it, but... yeah. You look like hell."

I arched an eyebrow at Giselle, my lips quirking into a teasing smirk.

"Someone's suddenly full of opinions," I shot back playfully.

A flush crept up her neck, painting her cheeks pink, and I bumped her shoulder lightly with mine.

"Relax, I'm only joking," I reassured her with a chuckle. "Honestly? I think we both need this distraction."

Her eyes sparkled with sudden interest. "So you're saying you want my help getting ready for your... whatever-this-is with Sebastian?"

I burst out laughing at her phrasing but nodded eagerly.

"You have killer style, and your makeup skills? Goddess, I'm jealous. I was hoping you could work your magic on me too."

Giselle practically glowed at the compliment, clapping her hands together. "Absolutely! This is perfect—I actually dreamed of being a makeup artist before..." Her voice trailed off.

I tilted my head. "Before what?"

She shrugged, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "Beauty school costs a fortune. That's why I'm here—saving up every penny until I can afford it."

My chest tightened with understanding. If anything, it made me respect her more.

"Trust me, I get it," I said, leaning against the vanity. "That's exactly why I tutor Oliver. Every credit counts when you're paying your own way."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Wait, you're putting yourself through Gamma training too?"

"Combat and Defense specialization," I confirmed, rolling my shoulders. "Full warrior track."

"Ahhh," she drawled, snapping her fingers. "Now the combat lessons with Oliver make total sense."

I grinned, but her next question caught me off guard.

"What made you choose this path?"

The smile faded as memories surfaced—dark ones. "Because our kingdom deserves better protectors," I said quietly. "After what happened to my family... I never want to feel that helpless again."

The unspoken words hung between us, heavy with shared determination.

Giselle studied me for a long moment before nodding decisively. "Alright then. Let's make you look like the future Gamma warrior you are." She winked, already reaching for her makeup bag. "Sebastian won't know what hit him."

I groaned but didn't correct her assumption. Some battles were better left unfought.