Chapter 247

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Lillian stretched lazily, her muscles still sore from yesterday’s training session. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted up from the kitchen, making her stomach growl.

She padded downstairs, her bare feet silent against the polished wood. The mansion was unusually quiet, save for the distant clinking of dishes.

"Good morning, Miss Lillian," Giselle greeted with a warm smile as she set a tray of pastries on the dining table.

"Morning," Lillian murmured, rubbing her eyes. "Where is everyone?"

"Master Sebastian left early for a meeting with Alpha Maximilian," Giselle replied, pouring her a cup of coffee. "And young Master Oliver is still asleep."

Lillian nodded, taking a sip of the rich, dark brew. The bitterness jolted her awake, and she reached for a croissant.

Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from Beatrice lit up the screen:

"Emergency! Meet me at the café in 20. You won’t believe what I just found out."

Lillian frowned. Beatrice rarely used the word emergency unless it was serious. She quickly finished her breakfast and grabbed her jacket.

The campus café was bustling when she arrived. Beatrice sat in their usual corner booth, her expression tense.

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

Beatrice leaned forward, lowering her voice. "I overheard Cassandra talking to Professor Sinclair. They’re planning something—something about Donovan and Evelyn."

Lillian’s grip tightened around her cup. "What kind of plan?"

"I don’t know all the details," Beatrice admitted, "but it sounded like they’re trying to sabotage Donovan’s engagement to Victoria. And… they mentioned your name."

A chill ran down Lillian’s spine. She had hoped to leave the past behind, but it seemed Donovan and his new mate weren’t done with her yet.

Before she could respond, the café door swung open. Donovan strode in, his arm draped possessively around Evelyn’s shoulders. Their eyes locked with Lillian’s, and a smirk curled Evelyn’s lips.

"Looks like trouble just walked in," Beatrice muttered.

Lillian forced herself to stay calm. Whatever they were planning, she wouldn’t let them catch her off guard. Not again.

But as Donovan’s gaze lingered on her, dark and calculating, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Lillian's POV

My phone buzzed insistently, cutting through the rhythmic thuds of my sparring session with Oliver.

I dashed to the tree where my gym bag lay, fishing out the device with trembling fingers. The screen flashed with a name that sent my pulse skyrocketing—Dr. Langford from the hospital.

Heart hammering, I swiped to answer and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I forced my voice steady despite the nerves coiling in my stomach.

"Lillian, it's Dr. Langford," came the crisp, professional tone. "I'm calling about Beatrice Whitaker."

My throat tightened. "Is she... okay?"

"Better than expected," she reassured me. "She's awake, responding well to antibiotics, and will be discharged tomorrow afternoon. Can you arrange to pick her up?"

"Absolutely," I blurted, relief flooding me. "I'll be there. Thank you."

"Of course. She's a fighter," Dr. Langford added warmly before ending the call.

I exhaled sharply, unaware I'd been holding my breath.

"Everything alright?"

The deep voice startled me. Whirling around, I found Sebastian Blackwood striding toward me, sunlight glinting off his tousled dark hair. His gaze locked onto mine, lips quirking in that faint, maddening smile that always made my stomach flip. But beneath the amusement, concern flickered in his storm-gray eyes.

Was it wishful thinking, or did he look... glad to see me?

We hadn't spoken properly in days—not since the tension between us thickened like summer humidity. Maybe I was imagining things.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, shoving my phone into my pocket. "Just Dr. Langford. About Beatrice."

"How is she?" He closed the distance between us, close enough that his cedar-and-rain scent enveloped me. "Marcus mentioned she had food poisoning."

Heat crept up my neck. Had he asked about her? Or was Marcus just keeping him updated? I swallowed hard.

"She's recovering. Surgery went well, and she's resting. They're releasing her tomorrow."

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully.

"Have her stay at the mansion," he suggested abruptly, catching me off guard. "She lives alone, doesn't she? It'd be safer with people around in case she needs help."

I hesitated. Beatrice despised Lucien Dubois—the mansion's flirtatious head chef—for driving her to drink in the first place. But airing that dirty laundry felt like a betrayal.

Pressing my lips together, I nodded. "I'll ask her."

Sebastian gave a subtle nod, his piercing gaze never wavering from mine.

After a weighted pause, he cleared his throat and shifted slightly, an uncharacteristic hint of boyish awkwardness flickering across his usually composed expression. It was unexpectedly endearing, and I had to press my lips together to suppress a smile.

“So, I’ve been thinking—” he began, but his words were abruptly cut off.

“Papa!”

We both turned to see Victoria striding toward us. My stomach twisted—of course she’d appear the moment Sebastian tried to speak to me alone. Lately, it felt like her sole mission was to ensure we never had a private conversation. And, frustratingly, she was succeeding.

My chest constricted when I took in her appearance. Normally, she’d approach with that infuriatingly smug smirk, but this time, her face was flushed, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed. Something was wrong. She didn’t look triumphant—she looked broken.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, as if she were holding herself together by sheer will. A single tear escaped, sliding down her cheek before she hastily wiped it away with trembling fingers. Her gaze dropped to the ground, her breath hitching in a quiet, stifled sob.

This wasn’t just another interruption.

This was something far worse.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow across Lillian's dorm room. She stretched lazily, her muscles still sore from yesterday's combat training. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted in from the hallway, courtesy of Gabrielle, the ever-cheerful barista who worked at the campus café.

Lillian's phone buzzed on her nightstand. A message from Beatrice lit up the screen: "Meet me at the boutique in 20. Emergency shopping needed!" She groaned, rubbing her temples. Beatrice's "emergencies" usually involved last-minute parties or impromptu dates. Still, she couldn't say no to her best friend.

As she hurried through the bustling campus, Lillian caught a whiff of Donovan's cologne—woodsy and faintly bitter, like his personality. Her stomach twisted. Even after all this time, her wolf still reacted to him, a cruel reminder of their broken bond. She quickened her pace, nearly colliding with Oliver, Sebastian Blackwood's mischievous seven-year-old son, who was chasing a butterfly with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Watch where you're going, clumsy!" Oliver teased, his silver eyes sparkling with mischief.

Lillian forced a smile. "Sorry, kiddo. Where's your dad?"

Oliver pointed toward the administration building. "Meeting with Headmaster Wellington again. Someone might have put glue on his chair yesterday."

Lillian stifled a laugh. Oliver's pranks were legendary, much to Sebastian's exasperation.

The boutique was a whirlwind of silk and sequins when she arrived. Beatrice stood in front of a full-length mirror, holding up a crimson dress against her frame. "Lillian! Thank the Moon Goddess you're here. Isabella's fashion show is tonight, and I have nothing to wear."

Amélie, the boutique clerk, offered Lillian a sympathetic smile. "She's tried on everything in the store twice."

Lillian sighed. "Let's find you something before you bankrupt yourself."

As Beatrice disappeared into the dressing room again, Lillian's phone buzzed. An unknown number flashed on the screen: "Stay away from Donovan. He's mine now."

Her blood ran cold. Evelyn.

Before she could react, the boutique door swung open, and in walked Donovan, his arm draped possessively around Evelyn's waist. Their eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world stopped.

Then Evelyn smirked, tightening her grip on Donovan. "Oh, Lillian. Fancy seeing you here."

Beatrice emerged from the dressing room, took one look at the scene, and immediately stepped between them. "Wow, the trash really took itself out today."

Donovan's jaw tightened. "This doesn't concern you, Beatrice."

Lillian straightened, her wolf bristling beneath her skin. "Let's go, Bea. Some people aren't worth the air they breathe."

As they left, Evelyn's laughter followed them, sharp and mocking. But Lillian refused to look back.

Some bonds were meant to stay broken.