Chapter 29

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the plush carpet of Lillian's bedroom. She stretched lazily, her muscles still sore from yesterday's intense combat training. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted up from the kitchen, mingling with the crisp autumn air.

Lillian padded downstairs, her bare feet sinking into the soft rug. The mansion was unusually quiet, save for the distant clinking of silverware. In the dining room, Sebastian sat at the head of the table, his sharp gaze fixed on a stack of documents. Oliver, his son, was absent—likely still asleep.

"Good morning," Lillian murmured, sliding into her usual seat.

Sebastian barely glanced up. "Morning." His voice was clipped, his posture rigid.

She frowned. Something was off.

Before she could ask, Theodore, the butler, appeared with a tray of steaming coffee and pastries. "Miss Lillian," he greeted warmly, setting a cup in front of her. "You have a meeting with Professor Sinclair at noon."

Lillian nodded absently, her attention still on Sebastian. His jaw was clenched, his fingers tapping impatiently against the table.

"Everything alright?" she ventured.

Sebastian exhaled sharply. "Just business."

But she knew better. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Just then, Marcus, Sebastian's beta, strode in, his expression grim. "We have a problem."

Sebastian's eyes darkened. "What now?"

Marcus hesitated, glancing at Lillian before continuing. "Donovan's pack is making moves near the eastern border. They’ve been spotted trespassing."

Lillian's stomach twisted. Donovan—her ex-fated mate—was stirring trouble again.

Sebastian pushed back his chair, his voice low and dangerous. "Gather the gammas. We’ll handle this."

Lillian stood abruptly. "I’m coming with you."

Sebastian turned, his gaze piercing. "No. It’s too dangerous."

She crossed her arms. "I can handle myself."

For a moment, they locked eyes—a silent battle of wills. Then, Sebastian sighed. "Fine. But you stay close to me."

As they prepared to leave, Lillian’s phone buzzed. A message from Beatrice: "Heard about Donovan. Be careful."

Lillian pocketed her phone, her pulse quickening. Whatever Donovan was planning, she wouldn’t let him win. Not again.

The morning exam had drained me completely. As soon as my last class ended, I dragged myself to the student lounge, desperate for a moment of peace. The sight of Beatrice sitting by the window, nibbling on a pop tart while flipping through her textbook, was a welcome relief.

I slumped into the chair across from her, and she slid an iced coffee toward me with a knowing smile.

"Got you some caffeine," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"You're an absolute angel," I groaned, taking a long sip. The cool sweetness washed over me, and I sighed in bliss.

Beatrice closed her book, tilting her head. "So? What happened last night? You were supposed to call me."

I winced, rubbing my temple. "Sorry, I got… held up. By the time I got home, I just collapsed."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Held up doing what exactly?"

I hesitated. The contract Sebastian Blackwood had made me sign was crystal clear—no mentioning him, no revealing who I was tutoring. The Blackwoods were practically royalty in the werewolf world, and if word got out that I was working for him, it could spell disaster. I trusted Beatrice with my life, but I couldn’t risk this job. The money was too good, and my family needed it.

"I got a tutoring gig," I admitted.

Her eyes widened. "Seriously? For who?"

"A kid from a neighboring pack. Pays well—really well."

Beatrice grinned, nudging my foot under the table. "That’s amazing, Lillian! Tutoring is so you. Honestly, is there anything you can’t do?"

I snorted. "You’re ridiculous."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Name one thing."

I pretended to think. "Knitting."

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Okay, fine, but you could still try."

I laughed with her, the tension melting away. For a moment, it was just us—two best friends joking around like everything was normal.

But of course, it didn’t last.

Because in walked Cassandra and her usual entourage.

I’d known Cassandra since middle school. We’d even been friends once—until I beat her in the spelling bee. And just like that, the peaceful moment shattered.

Her sharp gaze locked onto me, and her lips curled into a smirk.

"Well, well," she drawled. "If it isn’t the tutor."

My stomach dropped.

How the hell did she know?

She had become venomous. My lifelong nemesis. Since our school days, we'd been locked in a relentless battle for supremacy, and now in college, nothing had changed.

Cassandra was breathtaking—a supermodel's physique paired with a genius intellect. Her golden curls cascaded down her back, framing ocean-blue eyes lined with thick, dark lashes. Her lips, always glossed in soft pink, contrasted against the subtle blush dusting her high cheekbones. Every outfit she wore was a custom design from her mother, Isabella Fontaine, a legendary fashion icon.

To men, she was perfection. Too bad perfection came with a poisonous personality.

"Well, well, if it isn’t Lillian," she drawled, halting in front of our table. Her entourage flanked her, their gazes dripping with disdain, as if we were nothing more than dirt beneath their designer heels.

"Cassandra," I replied flatly.

"Word is your fated mate rejected you. What did you do to scare him off?" She planted her hands on her hips, smirking.

Her friends tittered.

"Werewolves never reject their mates unless something disastrous happens," one of them sneered.

"Lillian must’ve done something unforgivable to make Donovan run," another chimed in, giggling.

"That’s none of your concern, Cassandra," I bit out.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?" Beatrice crossed her arms, raising a brow. "Aren’t we a little too old for petty high school drama?"

"And if it isn’t Beatrice, the ever-loyal shadow," Cassandra shot back before refocusing on me. "Oh, and I also heard your father’s in prison for massive debts. How embarrassing for your family. How will you even afford next semester’s tuition now that you’re practically bankrupt?"

"Are you really trying to compensate for the fact that I beat you for top student again by attacking my personal life?" I narrowed my eyes.

Her face paled. The smugness in her expression flickered, replaced by shock. Her friends fell silent.

Beatrice leaned back, grinning triumphantly.

"This isn’t over," Cassandra hissed. "I will knock you off that pedestal. Let’s go, girls."

She spun on her heel, her golden hair whipping dramatically, and stormed off with her minions trailing behind. The moment she disappeared, I exhaled sharply, unaware I’d been holding my breath.

"That was legendary," Beatrice laughed. "Did you see her face?"