Chapter 278

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sebastian Blackwood’s penthouse, painting the room in warm hues. Lillian stretched beneath the silk sheets, her body still humming from the intensity of last night’s mating bond. The scent of cedar and musk clung to her skin—Sebastian’s scent—a reminder of the passion that had consumed them both.

She turned her head, expecting to find him beside her, but the space was empty. Only the faint indentation on the pillow and the lingering warmth of his body remained.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Lillian?" Sophia Delacroix, the head maid, peeked in, holding a silver tray with a steaming cup of coffee and a folded note. "Mr. Blackwood left early for a meeting. He asked me to give you this."

Lillian sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist as she took the note. Unfolding it, she recognized Sebastian’s bold, precise handwriting:

"Had urgent pack business. Meet me at the Blackwood Tower at noon. Wear the red dress."

Her lips curved into a smirk. Even in his absence, he was commanding.

Sophia set the tray on the bedside table. "Shall I draw you a bath, miss?"

Lillian shook her head. "No, thank you. I’ll take a shower."

As the maid left, Lillian reached for her phone, where a dozen missed calls and texts from Beatrice lit up the screen.

"Where the hell are you?! You disappeared last night!"

"Cassandra is spreading rumors that you got drunk and hooked up with some random guy!"

"CALL ME BACK!"

Lillian groaned. Of course Cassandra would twist things. She quickly typed back:

"I’m fine. At Sebastian’s. Long story. Meet me at the café in an hour."

She tossed the phone aside and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of last night’s intensity.

The Blackwood Tower loomed over the city, its sleek glass exterior reflecting the midday sun. Lillian adjusted the crimson dress Sebastian had chosen—a fitted, off-the-shoulder number that hugged her curves and made her feel both powerful and exposed.

The elevator doors opened directly into his office, where Sebastian stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to her, phone pressed to his ear. His tailored suit emphasized the broad lines of his shoulders, and even from behind, his presence was magnetic.

He turned, his golden eyes locking onto hers, and ended the call. "You’re late."

"Traffic," she lied, crossing the room.

Sebastian closed the distance between them in two strides, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her shoulder. "This dress suits you."

Lillian arched a brow. "Is that why you picked it?"

His smirk was predatory. "Partly."

Before she could retort, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening. "We have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Donovan."

Lillian stiffened. Her ex-fated mate had been quiet since their bond shattered, but she knew better than to assume he’d given up. "What did he do?"

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "He’s challenging my authority. Publicly."

A chill ran down her spine. "When?"

"Tonight." His fingers traced her collarbone, his touch at odds with the steel in his voice. "And he’s bringing Evelyn."

Lillian’s stomach twisted. Evelyn—Donovan’s new mate—was a calculated insult, a reminder of what he’d lost.

Sebastian’s grip tightened slightly. "You don’t have to face them."

She met his gaze. "Yes, I do."

His lips curved, approving. "Then we’ll make sure they regret it."

The promise in his voice sent a thrill through her. Whatever Donovan planned, he had no idea what was coming.

And neither did she.

Perspiration trickled down my spine as we maintained our relentless pace. My muscles burned, but surrender wasn't in my vocabulary. Morning jogs before lectures had conditioned me for this—my stamina could outlast most. Sebastian would soon discover my endurance matched his own. Retreat? Not when it came to physical training.

His piercing gaze locked onto mine as he increased the treadmill speed again. Within moments, our legs became indistinguishable blurs against the machine's whirring surface. My lungs screamed for respite, each breath searing like fire. Yet Sebastian appeared unaffected—predictable, given the grueling trials he'd undoubtedly endured.

Pride prevented me from showing weakness. I needed to demonstrate my worth, to prove I belonged in this world of Lycan elite. The thought fueled my determination even as my body protested.

The world tilted abruptly. Before I could process the misstep, I catapulted off the treadmill, skidding across the polished floor. Sebastian halted both machines instantly, his frame appearing beside me before the pain registered.

White-hot agony lanced through my ankle, bringing involuntary tears to my eyes.

"Let me see." His voice held unexpected concern as he reached for my injury.

I batted his hand away, jaw clenched. This setback couldn't derail my preparations—not with the competition looming. He captured my wrist effortlessly, his other hand already probing the swelling joint.

"Sprained," he pronounced with a frown. "What possessed you to challenge me? Recklessness serves no one."

I blinked away moisture, studying the angry discoloration. Lycan healing would mend it overnight, but tonight's training plans evaporated before my eyes. Arms it would have to be—assuming I could reach the weights.

"You're seeing a physician." His arms shifted as if to carry me.

Instinct took over. I twisted free, biting back a whimper as weight settled on the injured limb. Using the wall for support, I straightened with deliberate calm. "I'll manage. My workout isn't finished."

Each hobbled step sent fresh jolts of pain radiating up my leg. Sebastian's shadow fell across me before his hand closed around my bicep.

"You're incapacitated," he ground out, golden eyes flashing with barely restrained frustration.

With surprising strength, I wrenched free. "You may command my tutoring hours, Sebastian Blackwood, but not my training regimen." My chin lifted. "I know my limits. The ankle can wait—my preparation cannot."

His expression darkened as I turned away. The grip that halted me this time brooked no argument.