Chapter 286

"I'm fine," I assured Rosalind, pulling my gaze away from Sebastian to look at her as she fussed over me. It was true—I could feel my wounds knitting together as my wolf channeled her healing energy through me. "I'll be completely healed by tomorrow. My wolf is taking care of it."

"Thank the Moon Goddess for that," Rosalind sighed, pulling me into a quick hug before stepping back. "I saw Genevieve outside. She's just getting checked by the nurses, but she’ll be in to see you soon." I nodded, not wanting them to make a big deal out of my injuries.

"I'm fine, really," I repeated, offering them a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about me."

Rosalind grinned, her eyes lighting up with mischief. "I was thinking we should have a girls' night. After everything that happened, we could all use some relaxation and good old-fashioned gossip."

"That sounds amazing," I admitted, "but I'm kind of stuck here." I lifted my arm, showing her the IV still attached.

Just then, the doctor stepped in, his expression calm. "Actually, you're cleared to leave whenever you're ready," he said, carefully removing the IV and disconnecting me from the monitors. "Your wolf will have you fully healed by morning. There’s no need to keep you here overnight."

Sebastian didn’t linger—he excused himself abruptly and left without so much as a glance in my direction. I frowned at his retreating figure, irritation prickling under my skin. What the hell was his problem?

Once we were settled in the hotel suite, Rosalind plopped onto the couch with a contented sigh. "I'm so glad you're feeling better," she said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the side table.

Genevieve sat beside her, her own injuries minimal—just a few scratches and bruises, nothing serious. She had already been cleared for next week’s events.

Beatrice and I took the loveseat, and while she scrolled through movie options, my eyes caught on the dark bruises marring her wrist. The moment we’d returned to the suite, I’d noticed them, but every time I tried to ask, she brushed me off and changed the subject.

I didn’t need her to tell me who had done it. I already knew.

And Dominic Whitaker was going to regret it.

"I still can’t believe Alpha Sebastian stormed into the arena like that," Genevieve laughed, shaking her head. "Did you see his face? I thought he was going to rip someone apart."

"I wish I’d been there to see it," Beatrice sighed, leaning back against the cushions. She finally settled on a rom-com, her finger hovering over the play button, but she waited as we kept talking.

"Ugh, can’t we watch something with action?" Genevieve groaned, wrinkling her nose. "Romance movies are so cheesy."

"I love them," Rosalind countered, grinning.

"Of course you do," Genevieve muttered, rolling her eyes.

Ignoring their bickering, I turned to Beatrice. "Are you okay?" I asked quietly. "I mean, with you and Dominic."

Her expression darkened. "Why do you ask?"

I nodded pointedly at her wrist. "Because I’m not blind," I said, meeting her gaze. "Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?"

"Like I told Sebastian, I have it handled," she insisted, frustration edging her voice. "It’s fine. I’m fine."

My brows shot up. "Sebastian?" I echoed.

"All I’m saying is romance movies are ridiculous," Genevieve cut in, pulling my attention away. "And predictable."

"Says the girl who secretly cries at them," Rosalind shot back, crossing her arms.

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "I’m picking the movie, and I don’t want to hear another word about it," she declared, effectively ending the argument. She was clearly trying to avoid our earlier conversation.

She grabbed the remote and pressed play, giving them both a pointed look.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I snatched it up immediately, my pulse skipping when I saw the name on the screen.

Sebastian's kiss was featherlight at first, as if his ironclad self-control was beginning to fracture. A traitorous part of me didn't want him to stop - I adored this raw, possessive side of him... The way his jealousy over me made his carefully constructed composure unravel.

My fingers crept beneath his tailored shirt, tracing the sculpted ridges of his abdomen. His sharp inhale parted those sinful lips mere inches from mine as we danced on the precipice between desire and restraint.

With deliberate slowness, my hands mapped every defined muscle up his torso until they reached the broad expanse of his chest. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him down into a searing kiss.

That single touch shattered his restraint.

I felt the exact moment his Lycan instincts shifted from fury to all-consuming need.

Buttons scattered across the floor as he tore open his shirt, pinning me against the wall with his knee while his clever fingers made quick work of my dress zipper. His tongue traced my lower lip in a silent demand I eagerly granted, moaning as he explored my mouth with devastating precision.

The whisper of silk sliding down my body left me in nothing but black lace - the matching set I'd chosen specifically because it made me feel powerful. His darkened gaze raked over me with primal appreciation.

"Who are you trying to tempt, little wolf?" His voice was rough velvet.

"Maybe I just enjoy feeling desirable," I countered, arching into him.

A possessive growl vibrated against my throat as he reclaimed my lips in a kiss that bordered on painful. His teeth grazed my pulse point while his fingers slipped beneath delicate lace, finding me already slick with want. The deep rumble of approval against my skin sent fresh heat pooling low in my belly.

When he brought those glistening fingers to my lips, I tasted myself without hesitation - the intimate act only stoking the fire between us. My nails scored down his abdomen as he finally shed the last barriers between us, his impressive length pressing against my core.

The first slow thrust stole my breath. Every nerve ending came alive as he filled me completely, hitting that perfect angle with each deliberate movement. My gasps formed his name like a prayer - Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian - until the syllables blurred together in desperate worship.

In that moment, I needed him to understand - no other man could compare. My body, my soul, they answered to him alone. The possessive way his hands gripped my hips as he drove into me erased every other touch, every other claim.

Only Sebastian Blackwood could make me burn like this.

Time ceased to exist in the confines of the closet. There was only Sebastian and me, the heat between us unbearable, electric. Every movement sent shivers racing down my spine, his touch igniting a fire I couldn’t control. His thrusts grew deeper, more deliberate, each one drawing a gasp from my lips that he swiftly swallowed with a searing kiss.

His mouth trailed down my neck, teeth grazing my skin, leaving behind a trail of possessive marks. When his fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves between us, teasing until I was trembling, I nearly cried out—only for his lips to silence me again.

"Sebastian—" My voice was a breathless plea, my nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter inside me.

He growled against my ear, the sound primal, sending another wave of heat through me. Then, with a final, devastating thrust, he pushed me over the edge, my body shuddering as pleasure crashed over me. Moments later, his own release followed, his breath hot against my skin as he buried himself deep.

In the darkness of the closet, there was nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing—and the knowledge that we were far from done.