Chapter 270

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the cobblestone path leading to Blackwood Manor. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her satchel, the weight of her textbooks a comforting reminder of the normalcy she desperately clung to.

Inside, the grand foyer was alive with activity. Servants bustled about, preparing for the evening's gathering. At the center of it all stood Sebastian Blackwood, his broad shoulders accentuated by the tailored navy suit he wore. His piercing gaze locked onto hers the moment she entered, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"Lillian," he greeted, his voice deep and smooth like aged whiskey. "You're late."

She swallowed hard. "Professor Sinclair kept us after class."

Sebastian's lips twitched, as if he knew she was lying but chose not to call her out on it. Instead, he extended a hand. "Come. There's someone I want you to meet."

Her heart pounded as she followed him into the drawing room, where a striking woman with raven-black hair and emerald-green eyes sat elegantly on the velvet sofa.

"Lillian, this is Celeste Devereaux," Sebastian introduced. "She's here to discuss the upcoming charity gala."

Celeste's smile was polished, practiced. "Ah, the famous Lillian. Sebastian has told me so much about you."

Lillian forced a smile, though unease prickled at her skin. Something about Celeste's presence felt... calculated.

Before she could dwell on it, Oliver burst into the room, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Lillian! You're back!"

The tension in her shoulders eased as she knelt to hug him. "Hey, little wolf. Did you finish your homework?"

Oliver nodded vigorously. "Marcus helped me!"

Sebastian's beta, Marcus Grayson, appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable. "Alpha, we have a situation."

Sebastian's demeanor shifted instantly. "Excuse us," he murmured to Celeste before following Marcus out.

Left alone with the actress, Lillian fidgeted with the hem of her sweater.

Celeste tilted her head. "You're not what I expected."

Lillian met her gaze. "And what did you expect?"

"A timid little thing, easily intimidated." Celeste's smile turned razor-sharp. "But you're not, are you?"

The air between them crackled with unspoken challenge.

Just then, Beatrice's voice echoed from the hall. "Lil! You won't believe what just happened—" She skidded to a halt upon seeing Celeste. "Oh. You have company."

Celeste rose gracefully. "I should take my leave. Sebastian and I will continue our discussion later."

As she swept out of the room, Beatrice whistled low. "Wow. She's... intense."

Lillian exhaled shakily. "You have no idea."

Beatrice's eyes gleamed with mischief. "So, guess who just got asked out by Tyler?"

Lillian groaned. "Not this again."

Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance, a portent of the storm brewing on the horizon—both literal and figurative.

And Lillian couldn't shake the feeling that Celeste Devereaux was at the eye of it.

"This is absolutely incredible!" Beatrice gasped, her emerald eyes sparkling with excitement.

I smiled in silent agreement as we strolled down the grand marble corridor, our footsteps echoing beneath the glittering cascade of Swarovski chandeliers overhead. The golden keycard slipped effortlessly into our suite's door, revealing a paradise beyond imagination.

The master bedroom featured two canopy beds atop a raised dais, complete with velvet-lined steps. A fully equipped mini-bar and espresso station occupied one corner, while floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking ocean vista. Below, turquoise pools shimmered like scattered sapphires across the resort grounds.

"Oh, I could get used to this," Beatrice sighed, flopping onto the plush duvet with arms outstretched.

"Mmhmm," I murmured, already unpacking my combat gear with military precision. If we were staying for the Gamma trials, I needed everything battle-ready.

A discreet knock announced the bellhop with our luggage. After tipping him generously, Beatrice emerged from the walk-in closet wearing a daring crimson bikini.

"Exploration time!" she declared, twirling her keycard. "Coming?"

I shook my head. "Need to prep for tonight's orientation."

Her pout lasted precisely three seconds before mischief reclaimed her features. "Suit yourself, warrior girl. Don't wait up!"

The ensuite bathroom could've housed a small family. Multi-directional rainfall showerheads massaged away my tension as steam curled around imported Italian tiles. Emerging wrapped in fluffy terrycloth, I found Beatrice rifling through her makeup case with unusual intensity.

"Changed your mind?" I asked hopefully.

She bit her lip. "Actually... met some fellow cheer squad girls at the rooftop bar. They're doing a cocktail crawl during the competitors' dinner..."

My stomach dropped. "You're ditching me?"

"Don't say it like that!" She grabbed my hands. "I'll be front row for every match, swear on Mom's vintage Chanel. But tonight?" Her nose wrinkled. "Stuffy formal dinners aren't really my scene."

I exhaled through clenched teeth. "Go. Have fun."

Her squeal could've shattered crystal as she crushed me in a jasmine-scented hug. When the door clicked shut, my reflection in the gilded mirror seemed suddenly smaller.

Alone.

Just like always.