Chapter 63

The morning sun cast golden rays through the curtains, stirring Lillian from her restless sleep. She blinked against the light, her mind still foggy from the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed her the night before. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted up from the kitchen, mingling with the faint aroma of lavender—Sebastian’s preferred cologne.

She sat up, rubbing her temples. The events of yesterday played in her mind like a broken record—Donovan’s unexpected reappearance, Evelyn’s smug smirk, and the way Sebastian’s grip had tightened around her waist when he sensed her distress.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Lillian?" Sebastian’s deep voice resonated through the wood. "Are you awake?"

She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Yes, come in."

The door creaked open, revealing Sebastian in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the intricate tattoos that marked him as Lycan royalty. His dark eyes scanned her face, concern flickering in their depths.

"You didn’t sleep well," he observed, stepping inside.

Lillian sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. "It’s nothing. Just… a lot on my mind."

Sebastian moved closer, his presence both comforting and overwhelming. "Donovan won’t be a problem anymore," he said, his voice low and firm. "I made sure of that."

She looked up at him, her heart pounding. "What did you do?"

A shadow crossed his face. "Nothing irreversible. But he won’t dare approach you again."

Lillian exhaled shakily. Part of her wanted to protest, to insist she could handle Donovan herself. But another part—the part that had spent too many nights trembling in fear—was relieved.

Sebastian’s fingers brushed against her cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. "You’re mine, Lillian. And I protect what’s mine."

Before she could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. Beatrice burst into the room, her face flushed.

"Lillian! You need to see this!"

Lillian frowned. "What’s wrong?"

Beatrice shoved her phone into Lillian’s hands. The screen displayed a gossip column, the headline screaming in bold letters:

"Scandal at Blackwood Estate: Is the Lycan Chairman’s New Mate Already Involved in a Love Triangle?"

Beneath it was a blurry photo of Donovan grabbing Lillian’s wrist outside the café yesterday, his expression twisted with desperation.

Lillian’s stomach dropped. "This is bad."

Sebastian snatched the phone, his jaw tightening as he read. "Who took this?"

Beatrice bit her lip. "I don’t know, but it’s already gone viral. The pack’s going to see it."

Lillian clenched her fists. Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, the universe proved her wrong.

Sebastian’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression darkening further. "Victoria’s calling."

Lillian’s heart skipped a beat. Sebastian’s daughter had never approved of her. If she saw this…

Sebastian answered the call, his voice icy. "Victoria."

A sharp, feminine voice crackled through the speaker. "Father, explain this now."

Lillian closed her eyes.

The storm was just beginning.

"Release me," I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper but laced with venom.

Donovan's grip only tightened, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. "When will you stop lying to yourself, Lillian?" His voice was a dangerous purr, thick with unspoken promises. "I know you still crave me."

"In your delusional fantasies, Donovan," I shot back, wrenching my arm free with a sharp jerk.

His lips curled into a smirk as he caught my chin between his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You were watching us earlier—those jealous eyes of yours gave you away. Don't bother denying it."

"I was watching you parade your relationship like some cheap spectacle," I snapped. "It was tasteless, especially in front of Evelyn's little brother."

A mocking laugh escaped him. "Spare me the act. You don't give a damn about that brat. We both know you're just using him to get closer to Sebastian."

My blood boiled. "You have no idea what you're talking about," I seethed, slapping his hand away.

"Don't play innocent, Lillian," he sneered, stepping closer until his presence suffocated me. "You're just as deceitful as they come."

I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms.

"You want to talk about deceit, Donovan?" My voice was ice. "Then explain how Headmaster Wellington found out about my dyslexia."

A flicker of guilt—or was it satisfaction?—flashed in his eyes before he schooled his expression. That was all the confirmation I needed. He knew exactly what I was referring to because he was the one who had betrayed me.

"I have no idea what nonsense you're spouting," he said, straightening his jacket with deliberate nonchalance.

"You're the one spewing lies," I countered, shaking my head in disgust. "You told the headmaster, and then he informed all my professors. Because of you, they treated me like some incompetent fool all day."

"Enough with the baseless accusations, Lillian. I did no such thing," he growled, closing the distance between us.

He would never admit the truth—that much was clear. But I loathed him for meddling in my education, for crossing a line he had no right to cross. He had no business speaking to the headmaster about something so personal.

"You don't even belong at that school," he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. "What could you possibly learn there that the real world hasn't already taught you? It's a waste of time and money. The professors are useless. Just come back to the house I bought for you."

His fingers dug into my arm, this time with bruising force. I was stunned by his audacity—here, in Sebastian's parlor, where his fiancée, Evelyn, was just a room away. She could walk in at any moment and see him manhandling me, but he didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he’d simply forgotten she existed.

"Let. Go. Of. Me." Each word was a blade, sharp and lethal. I shoved against him, but his grip only tightened.

The air between us crackled with tension as Donovan's fingers traced a burning path along my jawline. "Stop fighting it, Lillian. I can feel how much you want this," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. His other arm snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard body as he pressed me firmly into the wall.

I gasped as my back met the unyielding surface, leaving me no room to escape. The heat of his body surrounded me, his scent—dark spice and something uniquely him—filling my senses. My pulse raced, torn between the instinct to push him away and the treacherous pull of attraction that had never fully faded.

His lips hovered dangerously close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. "You can't lie to me, pet. I know you better than you know yourself."

A shiver ran down my spine at the pet name, one he hadn’t used since before everything fell apart. My fingers curled into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I fought to steady my breathing.

But the worst part?

He was right.

And that terrified me more than anything.