Chapter 52

The crisp autumn air carried the scent of fallen leaves as Lillian stepped onto the Blackwood estate grounds. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her backpack, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. Today was the day she would face Donovan again—her former fated mate, the man who had shattered her trust without a second thought.

Sebastian Blackwood stood by the grand oak tree near the mansion’s entrance, his piercing gaze locked onto her. Even from a distance, his presence was commanding, the very air around him crackling with restrained power. His dark hair was tousled slightly by the breeze, and the sleeves of his tailored shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the intricate tattoos that marked him as Lycan royalty.

"You're late," he remarked, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

Lillian exhaled sharply. "Traffic."

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Excuses won’t save you from training."

She rolled her eyes but followed him toward the private training grounds. The moment they stepped onto the soft earth, the atmosphere shifted. The scent of damp soil and pine filled her lungs, and the distant howl of a wolf sent a shiver down her spine.

Sebastian turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Today, we work on control. Your emotions are still too volatile."

She bristled. "I’m not the one who nearly tore apart a pack member last week."

His eyes darkened. "That was different."

"Because it was Evelyn?" The name tasted bitter on her tongue.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "Because she was provoking you deliberately. And you almost lost yourself to the rage."

Lillian clenched her fists. "I won’t let it happen again."

"Prove it."

Without warning, he lunged.

She barely had time to react before his fist grazed her shoulder, sending her stumbling back. Instinct took over—her claws unsheathed, her vision sharpening as her wolf surged forward. But she forced herself to breathe, to steady the wild pulse of her heartbeat.

Sebastian’s lips curled in approval. "Better."

They circled each other, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Then, in a blur of motion, she struck—swift, precise, controlled. He blocked her effortlessly, but she didn’t falter.

For the first time in weeks, she felt alive.

Until a sharp voice cut through the clearing.

"Am I interrupting?"

Lillian whirled around to find Donovan standing at the edge of the training grounds, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Evelyn smirked, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm.

Sebastian’s growl was low, dangerous. "You weren’t invited."

Donovan’s gaze flicked to Lillian. "I came to talk."

Her stomach twisted. "We have nothing to say to each other."

Evelyn’s laugh was like nails on glass. "Oh, I think you do."

Sebastian stepped forward, his voice a lethal whisper. "Leave. Now."

But Donovan didn’t back down. Instead, he pulled something from his pocket—a folded piece of paper.

"Read it," he said, tossing it at Lillian’s feet. "Then decide if you still have nothing to say."

Her hands trembled as she picked it up. The moment her eyes scanned the first line, her blood turned to ice.

"If you ever want to see your mother again, meet me at midnight. Alone."

The world tilted.

Sebastian snatched the note from her grip, his fury igniting like wildfire. "Who gave you this?"

Donovan’s smile was cold. "Someone who knows exactly how to hurt her."

Lillian’s breath came in short, panicked gasps. Her mother—her mother—was in danger.

And the only way to save her was to walk straight into a trap.

Sebastian’s hand closed around her wrist, his grip unyielding. "You’re not going anywhere."

She met his gaze, her voice barely a whisper.

"I have to."

The clock ticked past 9:30 PM, and Victoria remained curled on the plush couch, her phone clutched tightly in her hands. Donovan had promised to call at eight. Now, over an hour late, her messages sat unread, her calls unanswered.

A cold knot twisted in her stomach. This wasn’t like him. Not once had he vanished without warning. She bit her lip, the silence of the penthouse pressing in around her. She wished she had someone to confide in—but real friends were a luxury she didn’t have. The girls who flitted in and out of her life only wanted proximity to the Blackwood name, to her father’s influence.

The closest thing she had to a friend was Lillian, but she didn’t even have her number. Did Lillian even want to be friends? Victoria wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could physically hold her fraying nerves together.

"Everything alright?"

Sebastian’s deep voice cut through the quiet. He stood in the doorway, bare-chested, his pajama bottoms the only concession to comfort. It was rare to see him out of his tailored suits, even at home.

Victoria glanced at her phone again. "I’m worried about Donovan. He hasn’t called."

Sebastian exhaled sharply—a sound she knew too well. Disapproval. He’d never hidden his dislike for Donovan, though Victoria couldn’t fathom why. From the moment they met, Donovan had been nothing but perfect.

She remembered it vividly: the Alpha banquet, the air thick with ambition. News of Alpha Harrison’s death had sent every eligible Alpha scrambling to impress Sebastian Blackwood, the most powerful Lycan chairman in the world.

And then Donovan had walked in.

Dressed in a tuxedo, his dark curls swept back, he’d scanned the room with an intensity that made her pulse stutter. When his gaze locked onto hers, the world narrowed to just the two of them. Her wolf had purred, delighted.

He hadn’t bothered with politics that night. Instead, he’d ordered her another glass of champagne and talked to her until dawn. Not once did he mention her father.

By sunrise, he had her number.

The next night, they talked until the sky lightened. No one had ever made her feel like this—consumed, desperate. When she’d begged Sebastian for his blessing, he’d refused at first, warning her Donovan wasn’t what he seemed.

She’d screamed. Threatened her own life if he didn’t relent.

A month later, Donovan proposed.

And now he was ignoring her.

Victoria’s fingers tightened around her phone. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

But what?

Lillian glanced at her father, Sebastian Blackwood, who sat beside her on the plush velvet sofa. The silence between them was thick, charged with unspoken emotions. Finally, she broke it.

"Did you love Mom when she was alive?"

Sebastian stiffened, his piercing golden eyes widening slightly before turning to study her face. Concern flickered in his gaze, followed by a deep, contemplative shadow. "She was my fated mate," he answered firmly, his voice rough with conviction. "Of course I loved her."

Lillian twisted her fingers in her lap, staring down at them. "I know she was your fated mate," she murmured. "But that just means your wolves chose each other. It doesn’t mean you had to love her."

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his broad shoulders tensing. "You think the bond is just instinct?" His voice dropped, low and dangerous. "That it’s only about wolves recognizing each other?"

Lillian lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. "Isn’t it?"

For a moment, Sebastian looked as though she had struck him. Then his expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "Your mother was more than just a bond to me," he said, each word deliberate. "She was my heart. My choice."

Lillian swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "But what if the bond is wrong?" she whispered. "What if it forces people together who shouldn’t be?"

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. "Is this about Donovan?"

Lillian flinched.

Sebastian leaned forward, his voice dropping to a growl. "Listen to me, Lillian. A fated bond is a gift, but love? That’s something you fight for. Something you choose every damn day."

Silence fell between them again, heavier than before.

Lillian’s mind raced. If love was a choice, then maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t doomed after all.