Chapter 249

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Lillian's bedroom, casting golden patterns across the silk sheets. She stretched languidly, her werewolf senses immediately picking up the faint scent of lavender and bergamot that always lingered in Sebastian Blackwood's mansion.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Lillian? Breakfast is ready," called Sophia Delacroix, the head maid.

"Thank you, Sophia. I'll be down shortly," Lillian replied, running fingers through her tousled hair. The events of last night still played vividly in her mind - Donovan's unexpected appearance at the gala, his new mate Evelyn clinging possessively to his arm, and that venomous glare he'd shot her when Sebastian had placed a protective hand on her waist.

Downstairs, the dining room buzzed with activity. Oliver, Sebastian's seven-year-old son, was enthusiastically describing his latest school project to Theodore Whitmore, the butler, while Marcus Grayson, Sebastian's beta, reviewed documents over coffee.

"Good morning," Lillian murmured as she took her seat beside Sebastian. His piercing blue eyes softened when they met hers, and he discreetly squeezed her hand under the table.

"Sleep well?" he asked, his deep voice sending pleasant shivers down her spine.

Before she could answer, Oliver piped up, "Papa, can Lillian come to my soccer game today? Please?"

Sebastian arched an eyebrow. "That depends on whether Miss Lillian has other plans."

Lillian smiled at the eager boy. "I'd love to, Oliver."

Their peaceful breakfast was interrupted when Victoria, Sebastian's daughter, stormed into the room. "Father, we need to talk," she demanded, her gaze flickering disdainfully toward Lillian.

Sebastian's expression hardened. "Not now, Victoria."

"But Donovan—"

"I said not now." The alpha's tone brooked no argument.

As Victoria huffed away, Beatrice Whitaker, Lillian's best friend, burst through the front door, her cheeks flushed. "You won't believe what just happened!" she exclaimed, ignoring the formal setting. "Cassandra just publicly challenged you to a duel at the university!"

Lillian's fork clattered against her plate. "What?"

Sebastian's grip on his coffee cup tightened. "Explain."

Beatrice gulped. "She claims Lillian used forbidden magic to manipulate you, Alpha Blackwood. The whole campus is talking about it."

A dangerous glint appeared in Sebastian's eyes. "Is that so?" He turned to Lillian. "We'll handle this together."

But Lillian shook her head, determination settling over her features. "No, this is my fight. I won't have anyone questioning my place by your side."

The tension in the room thickened as Sebastian studied her. Finally, he nodded. "Very well. But Marcus will accompany you."

As Lillian prepared to leave, Sebastian caught her wrist. "Remember," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear, "you're stronger than you think. And you're mine."

Her heart pounded as she stepped into the sunlight, unaware that Donovan watched from the shadows, his expression unreadable. The game was far from over.

I bit down on my lower lip and gave a hesitant nod. Lying to him wasn’t an option.

“Yes,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Are you alright?”

Lucien’s piercing gaze held mine, searching for any hint of sincerity. After a tense moment, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Yeah… she’s going to complicate things,” he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “She doesn’t take rejection well.”

“You did the right thing by being honest,” I reassured him. “Leading her on would only make it worse.”

He nodded, though his expression remained troubled.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone,” he admitted. “I’ve always been clear about where I stand. Honestly, I never expected to find my mate. I wasn’t even sure I wanted one.”

“And now?” I pressed, watching the conflict flicker in his eyes.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting mine again.

“I’m still figuring it out,” he admitted. “But the moment I saw her, I knew I had to see her again. I can’t just let her go without at least talking to her first. Giselle was right—I don’t know her. If I reject her without even trying… I’d regret it forever.”

I studied him, processing his words before nodding slowly.

“Alright,” I said. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Can you arrange for her to come here?” he asked. “Maybe tonight? I need to talk to her, and then we can decide together. She deserves that much. Rejection could break her—and her wolf—if we’re not on the same page.”

My chest tightened at the thought of Beatrice, my best friend, caught in this emotional storm.

“You’re right,” I agreed. “But it’ll have to wait until she’s recovered. She’s in the hospital until tomorrow.”

Lucien’s entire body stiffened, his face draining of color.

“W-what?” he choked out, his voice rough. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s in the hospital,” I repeated, crossing my arms. “She spent days drowning in alcohol, and one of the beers she drank was expired. She got alcohol poisoning. They had to perform surgery, and now she’s recovering.”

For a heartbeat, Lucien looked like he’d stopped breathing. His eyes darkened, his wolf surfacing in an instant.

Then, without warning, he turned on his heel and strode past me.

“Whoa, hold on!” I grabbed his arm, yanking him back. “She’s been through enough, Lucien.”

He whirled on me, his eyes blazing with raw intensity.

“What?” he growled, his voice laced with barely restrained fury.

The air between us crackled with tension.

"I told you, she's been through enough. Let her rest," I repeated firmly, my voice edged with finality. "I'll bring Beatrice here tomorrow, and then you can talk all you want. But for tonight, just drop it."

Sebastian's piercing gaze held mine for what felt like an eternity, his jaw clenched tight. I braced myself for an argument, half-expecting him to storm out in that infuriatingly stubborn way of his. But then—surprise of surprises—he relented. A heavy sigh escaped him as his shoulders slumped, his hands dropping to his sides.

I gave his back a reassuring pat, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. "Get some sleep," I told him, my tone softening. "Because tomorrow, we're picking Beatrice up from the hospital. And you, my friend, are driving."