Chapter 26

The morning sun cast golden rays through the curtains, stirring Lillian from her restless sleep. She groaned, rubbing her temples as the remnants of last night’s confrontation with Donovan replayed in her mind. His betrayal still stung, but what hurt more was the smug satisfaction in Evelyn’s eyes when she had clung to his arm.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Lillian? Are you awake?" Beatrice’s voice was gentle but laced with concern.

Lillian sat up, forcing a smile as her best friend entered. Beatrice took one look at her and sighed. "You look like you wrestled a bear and lost."

"Close enough," Lillian muttered, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "Just another night in the life of a werewolf with terrible taste in men."

Beatrice tossed her a bottle of water. "Drink. Then tell me everything."

Lillian recounted the disastrous encounter—Donovan’s cold dismissal, Evelyn’s gloating, and the way her own wolf had howled in silent agony.

Beatrice’s grip tightened around her own water bottle. "That snake. I swear, if I see him again—"

"You’ll what? Challenge him to a duel?" Lillian snorted. "Not worth it. He made his choice."

A knock at the door interrupted them again. This time, it was Sebastian’s deep voice that called out. "Lillian, we need to talk."

Her pulse spiked. The Lycan chairman had been distant since their last argument, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for another confrontation.

Beatrice shot her a questioning look, but Lillian squared her shoulders. "Come in."

Sebastian stepped inside, his towering frame filling the doorway. His dark eyes flicked to Beatrice. "A moment alone?"

Beatrice hesitated, but Lillian nodded. "It’s fine."

Once the door clicked shut, Sebastian exhaled sharply. "I heard about last night."

"News travels fast," Lillian muttered.

"Donovan’s an idiot." The blunt statement caught her off guard. Sebastian rarely wasted words on insults.

She blinked. "Yeah, well, tell that to his new mate."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "I don’t care about Evelyn. What I care about is you."

The sincerity in his voice made her chest ache. She looked away. "I’ll be fine."

"You don’t have to be." He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming yet comforting. "You’re not alone in this."

Lillian swallowed hard. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because someone should." His gaze held hers, unyielding. "And because I want to."

A knock at the door shattered the moment. Marcus’s voice was urgent. "Sebastian, we have a problem."

Sebastian’s expression darkened. "What is it?"

"Alpha Harrison’s pack is at the border. They’re demanding to speak with you."

Lillian’s stomach dropped. Alpha Harrison—the same wolf who had tried to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable.

Sebastian’s eyes flashed with fury. "Tell them I’ll be there in five." He turned back to Lillian. "Stay here. Don’t leave the house."

She bristled. "I’m not a child—"

"This isn’t a request." His tone left no room for argument.

As he strode out, Lillian clenched her fists. She wasn’t about to sit idle while others fought her battles.

Beatrice burst back in, eyes wide. "Did you hear? Harrison’s here!"

Lillian grabbed her jacket. "Then let’s give him a proper welcome."

Beatrice grinned. "Now you’re talking."

The two slipped out the back, their wolves humming beneath their skin. Whatever Harrison wanted, he was about to learn one thing—Lillian wasn’t backing down. Not anymore.

My eyebrows nearly disappeared into my hairline at the unexpected dinner invitation.

"You want me to join you for dinner?" I asked, caught off guard.

"There's more than enough for you as well, Madam," the maid chimed in, her grin stretching ear to ear. I glanced back at Oliver for confirmation, and the way he fidgeted nervously tugged at my heart. What was he so anxious about?

"My father is never home for dinner, and my sister hasn't been around since she started seeing that Donovan guy," Oliver admitted, his voice small. "Sometimes Butler Theodore eats with me, but not always. It gets... lonely."

A pang of sympathy shot through me, and I rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I'd be happy to have dinner with you, Oliver," I told him warmly. "And afterward, we can play that game—I'll show you how to beat that impossible level."

His face lit up like fireworks, and he sprang to his feet.

"Come on!" He grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me toward the kitchen.

The dining table was set for one—just Oliver. The sight of that single place setting made my chest tighten. The maid hurried in behind us, swiftly laying out another setting for me with an apologetic smile. I took my seat beside Oliver as she poured us fresh juice before serving the meal.

The rich aroma of beef stew filled the air, and I hadn't realized how ravenous I was until the first spoonful touched my lips. My stomach growled in appreciation. As we ate, Oliver chattered excitedly about school, his favorite subjects, and the friends he'd made.

I had to admit—I was enjoying this. The little boy was bright and full of energy, and seeing him so happy just from having company made something warm settle in my chest.

After we finished, I offered to help clear the table, but the maids waved me off.

"It's their job," Oliver explained with a shrug.

"That doesn’t mean we can’t be kind," I countered.

He just blinked at me before bouncing in his seat.

"Can we play the game now?"

I laughed. "I did promise, didn’t I?"

He bolted from his chair and dashed into the parlor where I’d left his tablet. I followed at a more leisurely pace.

Settling onto the couch beside him, I walked him through every trick I knew. He followed my instructions perfectly, his small fingers moving with surprising precision. When he finally conquered the level, he leapt up with a triumphant shout, clapping his hands. I laughed—right before he threw his arms around me in an impulsive hug.

"Can we keep playing?" he begged, eyes sparkling.

I pretended to consider it. "Well... you did finish your homework. I suppose you’ve earned a little more time."

His grin was worth it.

But tomorrow, we were going to—

"Work extra hard on studying your letters and math before we do any defense training. Understood?" I said with a soft smile.

Oliver beamed, nodding eagerly. "Can you teach me how to shoot the bow and arrow too?" he asked, his voice tinged with hopeful excitement. "I always miss my target."

"I'd be happy to teach you everything I know," I assured him, ruffling his hair lightly.

He settled back down and handed me the tablet, eager to tackle the next level. For the next half hour, we passed it back and forth, laughing at the silly mishaps in the game. The time flew by, and I barely noticed the absence of Theodore Whitmore—until his voice cut through the quiet from outside the parlor.

"She let him play on that tablet the entire time! They’ve done nothing productive, Alpha!" Theodore’s voice was sharp with disapproval. "I told you she wasn’t fit to be his tutor."

My head snapped up just as the door burst open. Sebastian Blackwood strode in, his presence commanding and intense. Oliver nearly dropped the tablet in surprise, but I caught it just in time before it hit the floor.

"Dad! You're home," Oliver said, his smile sheepish, as if he’d been caught sneaking sweets before dinner.

Sebastian’s arms were crossed over his broad chest, his piercing gaze locked onto me. "Miss Dumont," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "Care to explain what exactly is going on in here?"

The air thickened with tension, and I swallowed hard. This wasn’t just about a game anymore—it was about trust. And I had just lost it.