Chapter 235

The crisp morning air carried the scent of pine as Lillian stepped onto the balcony of Sebastian Blackwood’s luxurious penthouse. The city sprawled beneath her, bathed in golden sunlight, yet her mind was anything but at peace.

Last night’s confrontation with Donovan still burned in her memory—his cold dismissal, the way he had chosen Evelyn over her without hesitation. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. How could he?

The sliding door behind her opened, and Sebastian stepped out, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. His dark eyes, usually unreadable, held a flicker of concern. "You’re up early," he remarked, his voice low and smooth.

Lillian exhaled sharply. "Couldn’t sleep."

Sebastian leaned against the railing beside her, his presence both comforting and unnerving. "Thinking about him again?"

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

A muscle ticked in Sebastian’s jaw. "He’s not worth it, Lillian."

She turned to face him, her amber eyes flashing. "You don’t understand. He was supposed to be my mate."

Sebastian’s gaze hardened. "And yet, he chose someone else. That’s his loss."

Before she could retort, her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from Beatrice:

"Meet me at the café in an hour. We need to talk."

Lillian frowned. Beatrice rarely sounded this urgent.

Sebastian noticed her expression. "Problem?"

"Beatrice wants to meet," she said, slipping her phone away. "I should go."

He nodded. "Take Marcus with you."

She rolled her eyes. "I don’t need a babysitter."

Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk. "Consider him a bodyguard. Or would you prefer I accompany you myself?"

The thought sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "Fine. Marcus it is."

The café was bustling when Lillian arrived, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the chatter of students. Beatrice sat at their usual corner table, her fingers drumming impatiently against the wood.

Lillian slid into the seat opposite her. "What’s going on?"

Beatrice leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "I overheard Evelyn talking to someone last night. She’s planning something—something big."

Lillian’s pulse quickened. "What do you mean?"

Beatrice hesitated, then dropped the bombshell. "She’s working with Alpha Harrison. They’re going to challenge Sebastian’s authority at the next council meeting."

Lillian’s blood ran cold. If Harrison succeeded, Sebastian’s position—and by extension, her own safety—would be at risk.

She gripped her coffee cup, her mind racing. "We need to warn Sebastian."

Beatrice nodded grimly. "And fast."

Just then, the café door swung open, and Evelyn sauntered in, flanked by two burly enforcers. Her smirk was venomous as her gaze locked onto Lillian.

"Well, well," Evelyn purred. "If it isn’t the rejected mate."

Lillian’s wolf snarled within her. This wasn’t just a chance encounter.

Evelyn had come for a fight.

And Lillian was more than ready to give her one.

She looked like she was about to press for more details, but I silently prayed she wouldn’t. My family drama wasn’t exactly dinner table conversation. Thankfully, she must’ve read the tension in my expression because she snapped her mouth shut and gave a quick nod.

A relieved sigh escaped me. I was grateful she respected the unspoken boundary.

Giselle snatched up the dress I’d left on the bed—a simple, understated thing—and held it up with a skeptical glance.

“You were seriously considering this?” She wrinkled her nose.

I crossed my arms. “It’s not that bad.”

She shook her head, already rifling through my closet. “Oh, honey, no. You need something that’ll make Sebastian do a double take. Let’s see what else you’ve got hiding in here.”

An hour later, after turning my wardrobe inside out, she emerged victorious with a slinky little number I’d completely forgotten about. Beatrice had forced me to buy it ages ago during one of her infamous shopping sprees, but I’d never had the guts to wear it. The neckline plunged dangerously low, and the hem barely grazed mid-thigh.

Giselle grinned, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “You can always throw on a cardigan if you chicken out.”

I burst out laughing. Fine. She’d won.

The next few hours blurred as Giselle transformed me. When she finally stepped back, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror. My reflection stared back—smoky eyes, tousled waves, lips stained a deep rose.

“Holy…” I breathed.

Giselle giggled, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Told you. You’re a knockout. And I deserve all the credit.”

“You absolutely do,” I admitted, still dazed. “You’re going to slay in beauty school.”

Her smile could’ve powered the entire city. She took a step back, dusting her hands off dramatically.

“Well, my masterpiece is complete.” She checked her watch, then gasped. “Wait—we’ve been in here all day?”

I glanced at the clock and nearly choked. She wasn’t kidding. The sun had set while we’d been lost in this makeover vortex. I grabbed my phone, hoping for a message from Beatrice—but the screen stayed blank.

Giselle caught my frown. “Still nothing from the Alpha?”

I shook my head, my stomach twisting.