Chapter 265

The night air carried a crisp chill as Lillian stepped onto the balcony of Sebastian Blackwood's penthouse suite. Below her, the city lights twinkled like scattered stars against the velvet sky. She wrapped her arms around herself, the silk of her emerald gown whispering against her skin.

Inside, the celebration continued without her. The clinking of champagne glasses and laughter floated through the open French doors. They were celebrating Donovan's engagement to Victoria - the very thought made Lillian's stomach twist.

A shadow moved beside her. "Escaping the festivities?" Sebastian's deep voice rumbled close to her ear. His cologne - something expensive with notes of sandalwood and spice - wrapped around her like an embrace.

Lillian didn't turn. "Just needed air." Her fingers tightened on the railing. "You should be inside with your guests."

Sebastian leaned against the balcony beside her, his tailored suit stretching across broad shoulders. Moonlight caught the silver streaks in his dark hair. "I'd rather be out here with you."

The simple statement sent warmth flooding through her veins. Dangerous warmth.

From inside, a burst of laughter caught their attention. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, they saw Donovan twirl Evelyn across the dance floor, her champagne-colored dress flaring. Victoria watched them with a tight smile, her fingers white around her glass.

"Your daughter doesn't look pleased," Lillian observed.

Sebastian's jaw tightened. "She'll learn. In our world, alliances matter more than affection."

The bitterness in his voice surprised her. She turned to study his profile - the strong nose, the stubborn set of his jaw. This close, she could see the faint scar running along his temple, a souvenir from some long-ago battle.

"You don't approve of the match," she realized.

His dark eyes met hers, unreadable. "I approve of what keeps my pack safe." A beat. "Even if it costs my daughter's happiness."

The raw honesty in his words stole her breath. In that moment, she saw past the Lycan chairman to the man beneath - one who carried his responsibilities like chains.

Music swelled inside, a waltz. Without thinking, Lillian held out her hand. "Dance with me."

Sebastian stilled. "Out here?"

"Right here." She stepped closer, the scent of him filling her senses. "Unless the great Sebastian Blackwood is afraid of scandal."

A slow smile curved his lips. He took her hand, his palm warm against hers. "When it comes to you, Lillian, I stopped caring about scandal weeks ago."

As he pulled her into his arms, the city lights blurred around them. There, under the watchful moon, they moved together - two souls caught in a dance more dangerous than either would admit.

And inside, unnoticed by the revelers, Victoria's gaze found them through the glass. Her champagne flute shattered against the marble floor.

The music played on.

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sebastian Blackwood’s penthouse, illuminating the scattered papers on his desk. Lillian stirred in the massive bed, her body still humming from the intensity of last night. She stretched lazily, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her.

Sebastian was already gone.

A faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air—spicy, intoxicating, and undeniably his. Lillian inhaled deeply, her wolf purring in satisfaction. Then reality crashed back in.

Donovan.

Her stomach twisted. The rogue ex-mate who had betrayed her, who had chosen Evelyn over her, was still out there. And now, with the alliance between the Blackwood and Whitmore packs in jeopardy, she couldn’t afford to be distracted.

The door creaked open, and Oliver bounded in, his dark curls bouncing. "Lillian! You’re finally awake!"

She forced a smile. "Morning, little wolf. Where’s your dad?"

Oliver plopped onto the bed, swinging his legs. "Meeting with Marcus. Something about war." His voice dropped to a whisper, eyes wide.

Lillian’s pulse spiked. War?

Before she could press further, Beatrice burst into the room, her phone clutched in a death grip. "Lillian, you need to see this."

The screen displayed a news headline:

"LYCAN COUNCIL DEMANDS BLACKWOOD’S SURRENDER—OR FACE ANNIHILATION."

Lillian’s blood ran cold.

Sebastian had been keeping things from her. Again.

She threw off the covers, her bare feet hitting the cold marble floor. "Where is he?"

Beatrice hesitated. "The council hall. But Lillian—"

She didn’t wait for the rest.

Dressed in nothing but Sebastian’s discarded shirt, Lillian stormed out, her wolf snarling beneath her skin.

This time, she wouldn’t be left in the dark.

This time, she would fight.

Donovan had been faithful to Victoria for weeks, but the suspicion in her piercing blue eyes told him she wasn’t convinced. It had to be Lillian who showed up unannounced at his doorstep. No one else would dare—no one else even knew where he lived. Only her.

"Did she say anything to you?" Donovan asked, his voice thick with forced calm.

Victoria shook her head, tucking a loose strand of platinum-blonde hair behind her ear. "No. But she looked devastated. Like she'd been crying."

A breath escaped him, relief flickering in his chest before he could smother it. As long as Lillian hadn’t spilled anything, he could still salvage this.

"Must’ve been the wrong house," he lied smoothly, his confidence returning. "I wasn’t expecting visitors yesterday."

Victoria studied him, her lips pressed into a thin line, suspicion darkening her gaze. "Are you sure about that?" she challenged. "Because she looked exactly like Lillian."

Donovan stiffened. How much had she pieced together?

"What are you implying?" he snapped, too quickly.

"I’m saying it’s not a coincidence—"

"Lillian’s face is forgettable," he scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "I could point out a dozen girls who resemble her. She’s nothing special."

"Then why was she at your house, Donovan?" Victoria stepped closer, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes, and for a fleeting second, guilt twisted in his gut. Under different circumstances, he might’ve confessed. But not now. Not when he had everything to lose.

He was a spy first, a liar second, and a fiancé last.

"I don’t know," he murmured, gripping her shoulders, his thumbs brushing soothing circles. "I’ve been swamped with pack duties. Barely home these past weeks. If someone stopped by, I wouldn’t have known." He forced a weary sigh. "You know how it is—my family’s holding the pack together until a new Alpha’s chosen. People come begging for favors. Maybe that’s why she came. But I didn’t invite her."

Victoria searched his face, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

"I just... have this awful feeling," she whispered.

Donovan pressed his lips to her forehead, then pulled back to cradle her face. Tears streaked her flushed cheeks.

"I promise you, Victoria. I’m not cheating. There’s nothing going on." He thumbed away a tear. "I love you. Why would I propose if I didn’t?"

After a tense silence, she gave a small nod.

"Okay," she relented.

He smiled, sealing the lie with a kiss—soft, lingering, just enough to make her melt against him.

"Your father’s not home, is he?" he murmured against her lips, smirking.

She shook her head.

Donovan didn’t hesitate. He swept her into his arms, carrying her toward the staircase, his mind already racing ahead—how long until Lillian became a problem he couldn’t ignore?

But for now, Victoria believed him.

And that was enough.

"Of course, I'll join you shortly. Just need to make a quick call first," Victoria murmured, forcing a smile.

Donovan gave a curt nod before disappearing up the grand staircase toward her chambers. The moment his polished shoes vanished from view, her shoulders slumped. A heavy exhale escaped her lips as she pressed trembling fingers to her temples.

She wanted—desperately—to believe Donovan's honeyed words. To trust him like she had during their first moonlit stroll through the rose gardens. But the past months had sharpened her instincts to razor precision. She'd cataloged every micro-expression, every barely-there twitch that betrayed his lies. The subtle flare of his nostrils. That infuriatingly patronizing eyebrow lift. Both had appeared when he'd denied knowing the mystery woman.

The realization settled like ice in her veins. He was lying. Again.

Victoria swept into the marble foyer where Theodore sat ensconced in a wingback chair, his spectacles glinting as he turned a page of some leather-bound tome. At her approach, he glanced up, one silvered brow arching in silent inquiry.

"I require absolute discretion," she stated without preamble, her voice low and urgent.

Her phone screen illuminated with the damning photograph—the stranger's license plate captured in crisp detail during her hasty retreat from Donovan's estate. She'd held onto it like a live grenade, praying he'd come clean. Foolish hope. With a decisive tap, she sent the image to Theodore's device. A soft chime echoed through the cavernous hall.

The butler retrieved his phone, his frown deepening as he studied the picture. "Whose vehicle is this?"

"That's precisely what I need you to uncover." She leaned in, the scent of his bergamot cologne mingling with the faintest trace of old books. "Your technical prowess is unmatched, Theodore. Can you trace this registration?"

A beat of silence. Then a slow, deliberate nod.

"Naturally, Miss Blackwood."

"Excellent." She straightened, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her silk blouse. "Report your findings directly to me. Immediately."

Without waiting for a response, Victoria turned on her heel, her stilettos clicking a staccato rhythm against the marble as she ascended toward the lion's den—and the man who thought her blind to his deceit.

The scent of pine and damp earth filled Lillian's senses as she sprinted through the moonlit forest, her bare feet pounding against the soft forest floor. Behind her, Donovan's enraged snarls echoed through the trees, growing closer with each passing second.

"Lillian! Stop running!" His voice was laced with desperation and fury, the sound making her blood run cold. She could feel the bond between them straining, the remnants of their broken mate connection pulsing painfully in her chest.

She wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. Not when Sebastian's life depended on her reaching him first.

A branch snapped to her left. Lillian barely had time to react before Evelyn lunged from the shadows, her claws extended. The impact sent them both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and snarls.

"You stupid little bitch," Evelyn hissed, her golden eyes glowing with malice. "Did you really think you could escape us?"

Lillian twisted beneath her, using her smaller frame to slip free. She rolled to her feet just as Donovan emerged from the trees, his massive form blocking her path. His chest heaved with exertion, his normally perfect hair disheveled from the chase.

"Enough games," he growled, advancing toward her. "You're coming with us. Sebastian will pay for what he's done."

Lillian's heart pounded against her ribs. She could see the madness in Donovan's eyes - the same madness that had made her reject their bond in the first place. Behind him, Evelyn circled like a predator, cutting off any chance of escape.

Then she heard it - the faintest rustle of leaves from above. A shadow detached itself from the canopy, landing silently between her and Donovan.

Sebastian.

His presence filled the clearing, his power radiating outward in palpable waves. Lillian had never seen him like this - his usual controlled demeanor replaced by something primal and dangerous.

"Touch her again," he said, his voice deadly quiet, "and I'll tear you both apart."

Donovan bared his teeth in a feral grin. "This ends tonight, Blackwood."

The air crackled with tension as the three werewolves faced off beneath the silver moonlight. Lillian could feel the shift coming, the moment when words would give way to violence.

And then the forest exploded into motion.