Chapter 36

The morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes of Lillian's bedroom, casting golden patterns across the silk sheets. She stretched languidly, her body still humming from last night's encounter with Sebastian Blackwood. The memory of his hands tracing her curves sent delicious shivers down her spine.

A soft knock interrupted her reverie. "Miss Lillian? Breakfast is ready," Sophia Delacroix's gentle voice called through the door.

"I'll be right down," Lillian replied, her voice still thick with sleep. She glanced at the clock - 8:17 AM. Classes didn't start until ten, but she needed to meet Beatrice before then.

Downstairs, the dining room smelled of freshly brewed coffee and warm croissants. Lucien Dubois, the mansion's head chef, had outdone himself again with an elaborate spread. Sebastian sat at the head of the table, reading the morning paper while Oliver colored beside him.

"Good morning," Lillian murmured, taking her usual seat to Sebastian's right. His gaze flickered up, those piercing silver eyes warming as they met hers.

"Sleep well?" he asked, his deep voice sending another wave of heat through her.

Before she could answer, Oliver piped up, "Papa said you were working late last night. Did you finish your homework?"

Lillian nearly choked on her orange juice. Across the table, Giselle Beaumont discreetly turned away, but not before Lillian caught her knowing smile.

"Something like that," she managed, shooting Sebastian a glare when he smirked into his coffee.

Theodore Whitmore entered with a silver tray. "Sir, Marcus Grayson is here with the security reports you requested."

Sebastian nodded. "Have him wait in my study." He turned to Lillian. "I'll be working from home today. Julian will drive you to campus."

Lillian opened her mouth to protest, then remembered yesterday's incident with Nathaniel Whitlock. Maybe having a guard wasn't such a bad idea. "Fine," she conceded, "but he has to stay outside the lecture hall."

"Deal." Sebastian stood, pressing a kiss to her forehead that made her pulse stutter. "Be careful today."

The ride to campus was uneventful, though Lillian caught Julian Mercer scanning every passerby with military precision. Beatrice waited by the main fountain, bouncing on her toes.

"You're late!" her best friend accused, then lowered her voice. "So? How was your first official night as the Lycan Chairman's mate?"

Lillian's cheeks burned. "We didn't... I mean, it's not like that..."

Beatrice arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "Please. The whole pack could smell you two last night." She linked arms with Lillian as they walked toward their first class. "Anyway, more important news - Cassandra is spreading rumors again. Says you're only with Sebastian for his money."

Lillian rolled her eyes. "Let her talk. She's just jealous because Donovan dropped her for Evelyn."

The words tasted bitter, even now. Donovan Winslow might have been her fated mate once, but after his betrayal, she'd severed that bond completely. Or so she told herself.

Their conversation cut off as Professor Sinclair entered the lecture hall. "Today we'll discuss pack hierarchy dynamics," he announced, setting down his briefcase. "Specifically, the challenges of cross-species mating."

Lillian's pen froze mid-note. Was this intentional? She glanced around, catching several classmates staring at her with open curiosity. Even Professor Sinclair's gaze lingered a beat too long.

Beatrice squeezed her hand under the desk. "Ignore them," she whispered.

But when class ended, a folded note landed on Lillian's notebook. She opened it to find a crude drawing of her and Sebastian with the caption: "Gold-digging whore and her sugar daddy."

Lillian's vision tinted red. Her claws extended before she could stop them, shredding the paper to ribbons. The scent of bergamot and sandalwood suddenly filled her senses - Julian must have sensed her distress through their pack bond.

"Who gave you this?" she demanded, turning to face the smirking group behind her. Cassandra sat at the center, flanked by her usual sycophants.

Cassandra fluttered her lashes. "No idea what you're talking about, mutt. Maybe your kind can't read human writing?"

The insult hung in the air like a challenge. Lillian's wolf surged forward, eager to put this petty omega in her place. But before she could respond, the classroom door burst open.

Victoria Blackwood stood framed in the doorway, her perfect features twisted in fury. "There you are!" she spat, storming toward Lillian. "Did you really think you could steal my fiancé and get away with it?"

The room fell silent. Lillian blinked. "Your... what?"

Victoria's laugh was brittle. "Don't play dumb. Donovan and I were engaged before you seduced him with your little orphan act." She advanced, her manicured nails gleaming like claws. "But now that you've moved on to my father, I suppose I should thank you for taking the trash out."

Lillian's breath caught. Sebastian's daughter... and Donovan's ex-fiancée? The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. No wonder Victoria had been cold to her since day one.

Before she could respond, Julian materialized at her side. "Miss Blackwood," he said smoothly, "your father wouldn't appreciate you causing a scene."

Victoria's eyes flashed. "Stay out of this, gamma." She turned back to Lillian. "This isn't over, half-breed. My father might be blinded by your act, but the rest of us see you for what you really are."

With that, she spun on her heel and stalked out, leaving Lillian standing there with the entire class staring.

Beatrice broke the silence first. "Well... that was dramatic."

Lillian barely heard her. Her mind raced with implications. If Victoria had been engaged to Donovan... did Sebastian know? Was that why he'd been so quick to claim her? And more importantly - what else was Victoria capable of?

As she gathered her things, Lillian noticed Cassandra whispering excitedly with her friends. This was going to be all over campus by lunchtime. Just great.

Julian's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then at Lillian. "The Chairman wants to see you. Immediately."

Lillian's stomach dropped. Had Victoria already called her father? Or was this about something else entirely?

Either way, she had a feeling her day was about to get much more complicated.

Beatrice only rolled her eyes and sauntered over to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders in a tight embrace. "Are you okay?" she murmured, her voice low enough that only I could hear.

I nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. The sting of unshed tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall—not here, not in front of everyone. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Yeah, just a misunderstanding," I lied smoothly.

"Did Sebastian do anything to help?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

I arched a brow, caught off guard by the question. "Why would he?" I replied, keeping my voice carefully neutral.

She smirked and nudged me playfully as we wove through the crowded dining hall toward an empty table. "Because he bolted after you two like a man possessed," she explained. "Barked orders at Marcus to dig up dirt on Cassandra. Looked downright furious—and I have a feeling it wasn’t just about the ceremony." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Maybe someone wanted to protect his precious Lillian."

Heat flooded my cheeks despite myself. "You’re being ridiculous," I muttered. "We had one almost-moment, and we haven’t spoken about it since."

"Sure, sure," she chuckled, clearly unconvinced.

A waitress glided by, depositing two flutes of champagne on our table. Perfect. Exactly what I needed right now—something to dull the edges of this disaster.

I took a long sip, grimacing at the bitter tang. Champagne wasn’t my drink of choice, but tonight, I’d take anything.

"Let’s just enjoy the rest of the party," Beatrice said, offering a small, reassuring smile. "He didn’t take back your award, did he?"

I shook my head. "No. But I never got to give my speech. That stings."

"That bitch stole your moment," she huffed. "But karma’s a patient hunter. She’ll get hers."

I drained the rest of my glass in one go. "I need another."

"Open bar," she said, nodding toward the glittering counter. "Courtesy of the Blackwood Foundation—who, by the way, basically own this entire school. Rumor has it Sebastian’s the biggest shareholder."

My brows shot up. That was news to me.

I made my way to the bar, the buzz of alcohol already softening the sharp edges of my frustration.

"Congratulations on the award," a smooth voice said beside me.

I turned to find Alpha Harrison seated there, watching me with an unreadable expression. He was the Alpha of a smaller neighboring pack, one of the many who attended these ceremonies when their members were nominees.

His presence sent a prickle of unease down my spine. Something about the way his gaze lingered felt... calculated.

But I forced a polite smile. "Thank you."

The night was far from over, and I had a feeling the real drama was just beginning.

"Do you truly believe I'm worthy?" I murmured, the alcohol already warming my veins as I took another sip. My fingers traced the rim of the glass, the weight of the night pressing down on me.

Alpha Harrison's gaze held mine, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "If anyone deserves this honor, it's you, Lillian," he said, his voice smooth as he leaned in slightly. "I was cheering for you the whole time."

A flicker of surprise passed through me. One of the other candidates was from his pack—Evelyn, if I remembered correctly. Yet here he was, favoring me instead. I bit back the question on my tongue, choosing silence over stirring unnecessary tension.

"Let me get you another drink," he offered, his tone laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

I glanced at the open bar, then back at him with a wry smile. "It is an open bar."

His chuckle was low, intimate. "Then allow me to order for you."

I was already on my second glass, the edges of my vision softening, but I wasn’t about to refuse. The sting of humiliation still burned too fresh, and if alcohol could dull it, even for a moment, I’d take it. "Yes, please," I murmured, my voice steadier than I felt.

Alpha Harrison turned to the bartender—Benedict, if I recalled his name correctly—and gestured toward me. "Something stronger for the lady. She’s had a long night." His eyes flicked back to me, assessing. "Tequila shot?"

I knew better. I should have known better. But the numbness was too tempting, the escape too sweet. Before I could second-guess myself, I nodded.

Mistake or not, I was already falling.