Chapter 237

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sebastian Blackwood’s penthouse, illuminating the scattered papers on his mahogany desk. Lillian sat across from him, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sweater. The air between them was thick with unspoken tension, the weight of their recent argument still lingering.

"You can't just ignore this, Lillian," Sebastian said, his deep voice laced with frustration. His piercing blue eyes bore into hers, demanding an answer.

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the contract in front of her. The terms were clear—signing it would bind her to him, not just as his mate, but as the future Luna of his pack. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"I need time," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. "Time is a luxury we don’t have. The council is pressing for an official announcement. If we delay any longer, they’ll assume weakness."

Lillian bit her lip, her mind racing. She had spent her entire life running from expectations, from the suffocating rules of werewolf society. But now, standing at the precipice of a future she never imagined, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to leap.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Theodore Whitmore, Sebastian’s ever-composed butler, stepped inside. "Forgive the intrusion, Alpha, but Miss Evelyn is here to see you."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "Send her in."

Lillian stiffened as Evelyn sauntered into the room, her designer heels clicking against the marble floor. The scent of her expensive perfume filled the air, cloying and overpowering.

"Sebastian," Evelyn purred, her crimson lips curving into a smirk. "I was hoping we could discuss the upcoming gala. The press is already speculating about your special guest." Her eyes flicked to Lillian, dripping with condescension.

Lillian’s fingers curled into fists. She had no patience for Evelyn’s games, not when so much was at stake.

Sebastian’s expression darkened. "This isn’t the time, Evelyn."

Evelyn’s smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "Fine. But don’t keep me waiting too long." With a final glare at Lillian, she turned on her heel and strode out.

The moment the door clicked shut, Lillian exhaled sharply. "She’s never going to stop, is she?"

Sebastian’s gaze softened slightly. "She’s irrelevant. The only thing that matters is what you want."

Lillian met his eyes, her heart pounding. The truth was, she did want this—him, the pack, the future they could build together. But fear still held her back.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed. A message from Beatrice lit up the screen:

"You need to see this. Now."

Attached was a grainy photo of Donovan—her ex-fated mate—standing outside a high-end hotel with a woman who looked eerily like her.

Lillian’s blood ran cold.

Sebastian noticed the shift in her expression immediately. "What is it?"

She handed him the phone, her voice hollow. "He’s back."

Sebastian’s grip on the device tightened, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. "This changes nothing."

But Lillian knew better.

Donovan’s return wasn’t just a coincidence.

It was a threat.

And it was only the beginning.

The morning sun filtered through the large windows of the student union as I checked my watch for the third time. Beatrice should have been here by now. Her early morning lecture ended fifteen minutes ago, and she always came straight to our usual corner afterward.

I'd arrived early enough to secure our favorite table by the fireplace and ordered two caramel macchiatos - her usual. The steam still curled from the cups when I noticed the first odd glance thrown my way.

Camille Fournier nearly tripped over her own feet when I called out to her. "Hey, Camille!"

She froze like a deer caught in headlights, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Oh! L-Lillian... hi." Her eyes darted everywhere but at me.

My fingers tightened around the warm coffee cup. This wasn't just Camille's usual shyness. As I scanned the room, at least a dozen students quickly looked away, their whispers hanging in the air like static electricity. The hair on my neck stood up.

Had Sebastian not managed to suppress all those tabloid photos? My pulse thundered in my ears as I turned back to Camille, who was twisting the strap of her backpack like a lifeline.

"Was Beatrice in class today?" I forced my voice to stay even.

Camille shook her head so hard her glasses slipped. "She emailed Professor Sinclair that she'd be absent for... for a few days."

The words hit like a physical blow. Beatrice hadn't mentioned anything about skipping classes. My coffee cup crumpled slightly in my grip as I nodded. "Thanks."

Before Camille could scurry away, I caught the pity in her eyes. That stung worse than the whispers. I dumped both untouched coffees in the trash with more force than necessary, my stomach churning.

Outside, the quad buzzed with activity. A group of students were hanging banners for the annual Gamma Trials between the oak trees. I'd nearly forgotten - only elite combat students could compete for the prestigious Gamma Cup. The winner would earn a coveted spot in the Elite Gamma Force, the most skilled warriors who protected all werewolf territories.

My feet carried me toward the humanities building on autopilot, but my mind was already planning to confront Beatrice at her apartment after my last seminar. Whatever was happening, I'd get answers tonight.

The whispers followed me across campus like shadows stretching in the afternoon sun.

Being chosen for the Elite Force had always been my ultimate dream. But deep down, I never truly believed I stood a chance.

Rumors swirled that the Head Gammas overseeing the Elites, accompanied by one of the Lycan Chairmen, would soon arrive at the academy to handpick students for the upcoming competition.

Just as I reached the entrance of the building, the door swung open abruptly. A towering figure stepped out—an undeniable force of nature. Startled, I stumbled back, my breath catching in my throat. His presence alone was overwhelming, an Alpha power so potent it forced my gaze downward. Instinctively, I bowed, unable to meet his eyes.

Several other men flanked him, their auras strong but paling in comparison. They wore the distinctive armor of Gammas, marking them as warriors of high rank.

"Ah, Lillian..." A familiar voice snapped me out of my daze.

I lifted my head just enough to see my combat professor, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—nervousness?

"Professor Sinclair..." I murmured, still unable to look directly at the Alpha before me.

"We were just discussing you," he said with a strained chuckle, his eyes flickering between me and the floor. "Allow me to introduce Alpha Maximilian Voss."

My mind reeled. Alpha Maximilian Voss—one of the most formidable Lycan Chairmen, the very one leading the Elite Gamma recruitment for the competition.

And, as fate would have it, Sebastian Blackwood's sworn rival.