Chapter 300

Lillian's POV

Genevieve froze when she spotted Sebastian Blackwood leaning against the ancient oak tree. Her eyes widened, cheeks flushing crimson as she immediately dropped her gaze to the forest floor. Sebastian had moved just in time—Genevieve hadn’t actually seen anything incriminating, but the tension in the air was thick enough to slice with a claw. She knew she’d interrupted something... she just didn’t know what.

"Alpha..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her face burning even hotter. "I—I didn’t realize you were here..."

Sebastian rose to his full height, his dominant aura rolling off him in waves. There was no mistaking his rank. Genevieve’s breath hitched, her body trembling under the weight of his presence. Being this close to raw, untamed power was overwhelming—especially for someone who wasn’t accustomed to it.

"I was checking on one of the recruits," he said coolly, his piercing gaze narrowing.

The unspoken warning in his eyes was unmistakable. I didn’t want him scaring Genevieve—she’d been nothing but kind to me since day one, tough as steel beneath that quiet demeanor. I could already tell she’d be a fierce competitor. But right now, under Sebastian’s scrutiny, she looked like a startled fawn. Guilt twisted in my chest. I knew exactly how intimidating he could be.

"We should head to the medic," I blurted, stepping between them. "Before the line gets too long. First come, first served, right?"

Genevieve nodded quickly, still refusing to lift her eyes.

"There are plenty of medics," she said softly, "but they’re filling up fast. Everyone wants to get patched up and get out."

I hummed in agreement.

"Then let’s go," I said, turning toward the tree line.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt Sebastian’s gaze burning into the back of my skull. I glanced over my shoulder and flashed him a polite smile, dipping into a mock bow. "Thank you for your assistance, Alpha Blackwood," I purred, letting a sly grin slip before lowering my head again.

He studied me for a long moment, jaw tight, as if carefully weighing his next words.

"I’ll be seeing you," he finally said, voice low.

I gave a single nod before following Genevieve out of the woods.

The moment we stepped into the clearing, Beatrice came barreling toward me, throwing her arms around my neck with a squeal.

"You were insane out there!" she gushed. "I seriously thought you were going to faceplant into the dirt!"

"Honestly? Same," I admitted with a laugh.

"Nice job," a deep voice chimed in.

I hadn’t even noticed Dominic standing there until he spoke. He rested a hand on Beatrice’s shoulder, stepping closer—too close. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of physique that suggested he spent more time in the gym than anywhere else. I shot Beatrice a questioning look, but she avoided my gaze, her body stiffening under his touch.

It should bother her. She had a mate. Things might be rocky right now, but still...

Then again, who knew what—or who—Lucien was up to at this very moment?

"Thanks," I said, forcing a smile.

"The second I saw you flying through the air, I knew I didn’t stand a chance," Genevieve laughed, shaking her head. "Seriously. Anyone who can pull off a stunt like that and walk away? Not someone you mess with."

"Damn right, and now the whole damn resort will know it too," Beatrice declared, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder with a smirk. "You made your statement. Own it, Lillian!"

Dominic crossed his arms, his expression grim. "Might not be the smartest move."

Beatrice shot him a glare. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

His jaw tightened. "Now she’s got a bullseye painted on her back. The others will come at her twice as hard—either to knock her out of the competition... or worse."

"They can’t just kill her without consequences," I pointed out, though my voice lacked conviction.

Dominic shook his head, shadows flickering in his gaze. "Only for the first week. This week’s just the warm-up—proving you’ve got what it takes. Next week?" He exhaled sharply. "Next week, the gloves come off. There are only two ways to win now."

Beatrice’s fingers curled into fists. "And those are?"

His lips thinned. "Either they surrender... or they don’t walk away at all." He locked eyes with me. "It’s about to get bloody. Watch your back."

I wanted to snap at him—tell him he had no right to act like he knew anything about this world, about me. I wanted to demand Beatrice send him packing. But before I could speak, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"There you are."

I turned to see Rosalind—the girl from the airport—striding toward us, her combat boots crunching against the gravel. A sly smile played on her lips, her dark hair pulled into a messy braid that revealed a row of silver piercings along her ear. She was petite, barely reaching my shoulder, but the way she held herself made it clear she wasn’t someone to underestimate.

Her gaze locked onto mine, sharp and assessing. "We need to talk."