Chapter 38

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across Lillian's face as she stirred awake. Her body ached from the previous night's events, but her mind was sharper than ever. The scent of Donovan still lingered in her memory, a bitter reminder of what could have been.

She stretched, her muscles protesting slightly, before slipping out of bed. The floor was cool beneath her bare feet as she padded to the window, pushing the curtains aside to take in the view of the Blackwood estate. The gardens below were already bustling with activity—maids tending to the flowers, guards patrolling the perimeter, and Sebastian's son, Oliver, chasing butterflies with unrestrained glee.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called, turning to see Beatrice stepping inside, a tray of breakfast balanced in her hands.

"You look like you could use this," Beatrice said with a knowing smile, setting the tray on the bedside table.

Lillian sighed, running a hand through her tousled hair. "I feel like I've been run over by a truck."

Beatrice chuckled. "Well, that's what happens when you challenge an Alpha's authority in front of his entire pack."

Lillian grimaced, recalling the confrontation with Sebastian the night before. His icy demeanor had sent shivers down her spine, but she refused to back down. Not when Donovan and Evelyn were still out there, plotting their next move.

She picked up a piece of toast, nibbling absentmindedly. "Any news?"

Beatrice shook her head. "Nothing concrete. But Marcus mentioned Donovan was spotted near the border last night."

Lillian's grip tightened around the toast. "He's getting bold."

"Or desperate," Beatrice countered. "Especially now that Sebastian has made it clear you're under his protection."

Lillian scoffed. "Protection? More like surveillance."

Beatrice arched a brow. "You really think he'd go through all this trouble just to keep tabs on you?"

Before Lillian could respond, another knock sounded—this one firmer, more authoritative. The door swung open to reveal Sebastian himself, his towering frame filling the doorway. His piercing gaze locked onto Lillian, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension.

Beatrice cleared her throat. "I'll just... leave you two to talk." She slipped out, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Sebastian stepped further into the room, his expression unreadable. "We need to discuss last night."

Lillian crossed her arms. "What's there to discuss? You made your position clear."

His jaw tightened. "You deliberately provoked me in front of my pack."

"And you deliberately ignored the threat Donovan poses," she shot back.

Sebastian's eyes darkened. "I don't ignore threats, Lillian. I assess them."

"Then assess this," she said, stepping closer. "Donovan won't stop until he gets what he wants. And right now, that's me."

A low growl rumbled in Sebastian's chest. "Over my dead body."

The intensity in his voice sent a thrill down Lillian's spine, but she refused to let it show. "Then stop treating me like a prisoner and start treating me like an ally."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Finally, Sebastian exhaled sharply. "Fine. But you follow my lead. No more reckless stunts."

Lillian smirked. "No promises."

Sebastian's lips twitched, almost as if he wanted to smile. Almost. "Get dressed. We have work to do."

As he turned to leave, Lillian called after him, "Sebastian."

He paused, glancing over his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He gave a curt nod before disappearing into the hallway, leaving Lillian alone with her thoughts—and the undeniable realization that their fates were now irrevocably intertwined.

The game had changed. And she was ready to play.

"I'll take care of you tonight," Alpha Harrison murmured, his voice low and smooth. "Don't worry about a thing. Just enjoy yourself and forget about that awful ceremony."

I managed a weak smile, grateful for his reassurance. By my third tequila shot, the room had started spinning. When I slid off the barstool, my legs buckled beneath me. Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground—Alpha Harrison’s. His grip was firm, one hand pressed against my back, the other cradling me close. My face was buried in his chest, his fingers tracing slow circles along my spine.

Something about his touch unsettled me, but my head was too foggy to protest.

"Lillian, you can stay with me," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. My lips felt numb, so I stayed silent. He half-carried, half-dragged me toward the exit, my feet barely cooperating.

A flicker of worry crossed my mind—Where’s Beatrice?—but it vanished as quickly as it came when Alpha Harrison suddenly lifted me off the ground, cradling me bridal-style. My head lolled against his chest as I mumbled something incoherent. He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me.

"Alpha!"

A sharp female voice cut through the haze. I kept my eyes shut—the world was still spinning—but I recognized that voice.

"What are you doing? She’s too drunk to go anywhere."

"We’re consenting adults," Alpha Harrison replied smoothly. "She wants this."

Before she could argue, another voice cut in—deep, dangerous.

"Walk away now, or I’ll break every bone in your body."

Alpha Harrison stiffened.

"I tried to stop him, Sir," the woman said.

Blinking through the blur, I saw Beatrice’s assistant standing there, her expression tight. Beside her stood Sebastian Blackwood, his gaze locked onto me like a predator.

Alpha Harrison’s grip tightened.

"It’s fine, Alpha. I know her. I’ll take her home."

Sebastian’s voice turned lethal. "I won’t ask again. Or you’ll lose your title—and the ability to walk."

A shudder ran through Alpha Harrison before he reluctantly stepped forward, releasing me.

The moment Sebastian’s arms wrapped around me, warmth flooded my veins. I clung to him instinctively, pressing my face into his chest, breathing in his scent—dark, intoxicating, his.

"I—I apologize," Alpha Harrison stammered, bowing his head.

Sebastian didn’t respond. He simply carried me away, his steps firm and purposeful. The cold night air hit my skin as we stepped outside, sharpening my senses just enough to register a sleek car pulling up.

The door opened. Sebastian slid in first, pulling me onto his lap, his arms locking around me possessively. My fingers trailed up his chest, tracing the lines of his suit, the heat of his body beneath the fabric.

God, he was gorgeous like this—tie slightly loosened, jaw set, eyes burning with something primal.

His scent, his presence—it was too much.

My lips parted, breath hitching as desire coiled low in my stomach.

And then—

His fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my face up.

"Don’t," he warned, voice rough. "You’re drunk."

But I didn’t care.

Because right now, all I wanted was him.

My mouth practically watered at the thought of claiming him, savoring every inch of Sebastian Blackwood. His large hand covered mine as I reached for his silk tie, the expensive fabric sliding between my fingers. The world still spun around us, but a boldness I'd never known surged through my veins.

"What are you doing?" His voice was rough, strained, as if speaking pained him.

I didn't answer. Instead, I used my free hand to loosen the knot at his throat, my gaze locked on the way his pulse jumped beneath his skin. "I want you," I murmured, my voice husky with desire. "And I know you want me too, Daddy."

The words didn't sound like mine, but I didn't care. Not when his eyes darkened to molten gold, not when his breath hitched as I finally undid his tie.

Then—his phone rang.

The sharp trill shattered the moment. Sebastian's jaw clenched, his grip tightening on my wrist. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then, with a growl, he pulled away.