Chapter 293

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the balcony of Sebastian Blackwood’s estate. The golden hues of sunset painted the sky, casting long shadows across the sprawling gardens below. She exhaled slowly, her breath forming a faint mist in the cool evening.

Inside, the grand hall buzzed with activity. The annual Lycan Council gathering was in full swing, and though Lillian had no official role in the proceedings, Sebastian had insisted she attend. His voice, deep and commanding, carried over the murmurs of the assembled Alphas and Betas.

“We cannot afford another conflict with the Darkmoon Pack,” Sebastian declared, his piercing gaze sweeping across the room. “Alpha Maximilian Voss has made his intentions clear. If we do not act now, we risk losing more than just territory.”

Lillian’s fingers tightened around the railing. The mention of Voss sent a chill down her spine. The last time their paths had crossed, she had barely escaped with her life.

A familiar presence brushed against her senses. Donovan.

She didn’t need to turn around to know he was there—his scent, a mix of cedar and something darker, was unmistakable.

“Enjoying the view?” His voice was smooth, laced with the same arrogance that had once drawn her in.

Lillian kept her eyes fixed on the horizon. “What do you want, Donovan?”

He stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Just checking on my favorite little wolf.”

She stiffened. “We’re done. You made your choice.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Did I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re still tangled up in my world.”

Before she could retort, the balcony doors swung open. Beatrice stormed out, her cheeks flushed with irritation. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Her sharp eyes flicked to Donovan. “Oh. Him.”

Donovan smirked. “Always a pleasure, Beatrice.”

Beatrice ignored him, grabbing Lillian’s arm. “Sebastian’s looking for you. Something about a meeting with the council elders.”

Lillian nodded, grateful for the interruption. As she turned to leave, Donovan’s voice stopped her.

“This isn’t over, Lillian.”

She didn’t look back.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. Sebastian stood at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. Marcus Grayson, his Beta, leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

Sebastian’s gaze locked onto Lillian as she approached. “Good. You’re here.” He gestured to an empty seat beside him. “Sit.”

As she took her place, the elders’ murmurs grew louder. One of them, an older Lycan with silver-streaked hair, cleared his throat.

“The Darkmoon Pack has already crossed our borders twice this month. If we don’t retaliate, we’ll appear weak.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “And if we act rashly, we risk all-out war.”

Lillian’s pulse quickened. She knew what was coming next.

Sebastian turned to her, his voice low but firm. “Lillian, you’ve dealt with Voss before. I need your insight.”

Every eye in the room was suddenly on her.

She swallowed hard. “Voss doesn’t respond to brute force. He respects strategy. If we can outmaneuver him politically, we might avoid bloodshed.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the council.

Sebastian nodded slowly. “Then we’ll play his game—for now.”

As the meeting adjourned, Lillian couldn’t shake the feeling that Donovan’s presence was no coincidence.

And that the real battle was only just beginning.

"Not bad for a girl," a voice drawled behind me, dripping with condescension.

I whirled around to find Tristan Whitlock sauntering toward me, his bare torso glistening with sweat, a towel draped lazily around his neck. Scratches marred his skin, but they were superficial—barely worth noting. His smirk was infuriating, dimples flashing like he thought they excused his arrogance.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" I snapped, crossing my arms and glaring up at him.

He leaned against the wall, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Just saying I’m impressed. You don’t look like much, but you’ve got fire in you."

My lips pressed into a thin line. "Afraid you’ll lose to a girl?" I taunted.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Not even a little. I just hope you don’t hold a grudge when I wipe the floor with you."

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain. "Good luck with that, Tristan," I muttered, turning to leave.

His hand shot out to grab my arm, but I jerked away before he could touch me. If Sebastian saw him lay a finger on me, Tristan wouldn’t live long enough to regret it. His expression darkened at my rejection, lips thinning as his eyes narrowed.

"Don’t get cocky," he warned, stepping so close I could feel the heat radiating off him. My breath hitched as he brushed past me, his arm grazing mine deliberately before he strode away, leaving me standing there, stunned.

I needed air.

The crowd’s noise faded as I wandered toward the empty parking lot, craving silence. My head throbbed, adrenaline ebbing, leaving me chilled despite the warm evening. Wrapping my arms around myself, I exhaled shakily, trying to steady my racing heart.

Then—a touch.

Sebastian’s hand settled on my arm, his presence sudden and grounding. His dark eyes bore into mine, intense and unreadable. For a second, I thought he might be some divine intervention sent to save me from my own chaos.

His gaze flickered over the scratches on my cheek—courtesy of Arabella—and his nostrils flared. Without a word, he guided me toward a sleek black car I didn’t recognize. The doors unlocked with a quiet click, and he motioned for me to climb into the backseat.

I hesitated, scanning the deserted lot before slipping inside. Sebastian followed, shutting the door behind us with finality.

My pulse hammered so loudly I was certain he could hear it. He reached behind me, his face inches from mine—close enough that my breath caught. For one reckless moment, I thought he might kiss me.

He didn’t.

Instead, he pulled out a first aid kit from the seatback, and I blinked in surprise. When he produced an antiseptic wipe, I opened my mouth to protest, but one sharp look silenced me.

The sting made me wince as he cleaned the marks on my cheek, his touch meticulous, his focus absolute.

"Thank you," I murmured, unsure what else to say.

His eyes met mine briefly before returning to his task. "You should’ve protected your face," he finally said, voice low.

"We can shift next round," I replied. "I’ll make her pay for this."

"Don’t be reckless."

I held his gaze, unflinching. "I’ve only made one reckless mistake so far."

His eyes darkened, a growl vibrating in his chest.

And I’m about to make another one, I thought—just before his lips crashed into mine.