Chapter 65

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the lavish bedroom. Lillian stretched beneath the silk sheets, her body still humming from the intensity of last night. Beside her, Sebastian Blackwood slept soundly, his muscular arm draped possessively over her waist.

She bit her lip, recalling the way he had claimed her—again and again—until exhaustion had finally pulled them both under. His scent, rich and intoxicating, clung to her skin, a silent declaration to the world that she was his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Miss Lillian?" Giselle’s voice was hushed but urgent. "You have a visitor."

Lillian frowned. "Who is it?"

"Miss Evelyn," the head maid replied. "She says it’s important."

Lillian’s stomach twisted. Evelyn. Donovan’s new mate. What could she possibly want?

Careful not to wake Sebastian, she slipped out of bed and pulled on a robe. The moment she stepped into the hallway, Evelyn’s sharp perfume hit her like a slap.

The blonde stood stiffly, her manicured fingers clutching a small envelope. "I didn’t want to come," she said, her voice tight. "But Donovan insisted."

Lillian crossed her arms. "What does he want?"

Evelyn thrust the envelope at her. "He said to give this to you—personally."

Lillian hesitated before taking it. The paper was thick, expensive. She flipped it open, and her breath caught.

Meet me at the old oak by sunset. We need to talk.

Her pulse spiked. Why now? After everything—after he’d abandoned her, after he’d chosen Evelyn—what could he possibly have to say?

Evelyn’s lips curled into a bitter smile. "He still thinks about you, you know. Even now."

Lillian’s grip tightened on the note. "Tell him I’m not interested."

Evelyn scoffed. "Oh, I will. But we both know you’ll go."

Before Lillian could respond, Evelyn turned on her heel and strode away, leaving her standing there, heart pounding.

She glanced back at the bedroom door. Sebastian would be furious if he knew. But something—some stubborn, foolish part of her—needed answers.

Just one last conversation.

Then she’d walk away for good.

Or so she told herself.

Donovan gave a stiff nod, his dark eyes simmering with barely contained fury. I could tell he was seething, but he was holding himself back—just barely.

"Yes, Alpha," he ground out, his voice rough with suppressed anger.

He turned on his heel and stalked into the kitchen, leaving Lillian and me alone in the parlor. She didn’t retreat, didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze locked onto mine, searching—for what, I wasn’t sure. Understanding? Absolution?

"Are you satisfied now?" I asked, unable to keep the disgust from lacing my words. "Was this your plan all along? To remind everyone that you still have him wrapped around your finger?"

She blinked, her brows lifting in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" she shot back. "I didn’t ask for any of this. He was the one who cornered me. Pinned me against the wall. No matter how much I fought, he wouldn’t let go."

My lips curled into a bitter smile. "And you expect me to believe that? Every time I turn around, you and Donovan are tangled up in some mess. Funny how that keeps happening, isn’t it?"

Lillian pressed her lips into a thin line, her stare unwavering. "I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it. But believe whatever you want." She moved to leave, but I caught her wrist, pulling her back.

"We’re not done—"

The door swung open before I could finish. Victoria stepped inside, flanked by Donovan and Oliver. She paused mid-step, her sharp eyes flicking between us before landing on my grip around Lillian’s wrist.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, arching a brow.

I released Lillian as if burned.

"No," I clipped. "We were just talking. Is everything all right?"

Victoria bit her lip, hesitating before nodding. "The dinner… it’s ruined. The maids said they can prepare another meal, but it’ll take time."

"Tell them not to bother," I said. "We’ll go out tonight."

Oliver perked up instantly, bouncing on his toes. "Like a family dinner?"

I nodded. It had been too long since we’d done something like this—just the four of us. Well, five, if I had to include Donovan by default.

Victoria’s face brightened, a soft smile curving her lips. "That’s a wonderful idea." Then, to my surprise, she turned to Lillian. "You should come too. You haven’t eaten all day—you must be starving."

Lillian's brow furrowed as she scanned each of our faces. We stared back, waiting for her response. I already knew she was searching for an escape. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped at a dinner table with the Blackwood family—and her ex.

"No, I—"

"Yes, Lillian will join us," I cut in before she could refuse.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"I really should be heading home..."

"You need to eat," I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. "It's just dinner, Lillian."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver dashed over and wrapped his arms around her legs, babbling excitedly about how much fun they were going to have.

We chose an upscale Italian restaurant in the Silver Crescent pack. Victoria had lent Lillian one of her dresses—a sleek, dark red number that hugged her curves in all the right places. I hated how much skin it revealed, but what I hated even more was how breathtaking she looked. The slit in the skirt showcased her long, toned legs with every step, and when she leaned forward, the deep neckline threatened to spill secrets I had no business knowing. I swallowed hard, my jaw tightening.

She sat beside me, while Oliver occupied the other side. Victoria and Donovan faced us, with Donovan directly across from Lillian. I couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze flickered toward her every so often—and how she deliberately avoided meeting his eyes. A quiet tension simmered between them, and curiosity gnawed at me. What exactly had happened between those two?

Victoria, blissfully unaware, sipped her wine and nibbled on breadsticks while half-listening to Oliver ramble about how incredible Lillian had been during their sparring session.

When the waiter arrived with our meals, Oliver finally quieted down.

Lillian took a slow bite of her chicken parmesan, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips. The sound shot straight through me, and I gritted my teeth.

Damn her.

"Dad, are you okay?" Victoria asked, tilting her head. "You seem... tense."

I forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just eat."

She studied me for a moment before Donovan distracted her by lifting a forkful of meatball to her lips. She giggled as she took the bite, sauce smudging her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, then licked it off with a smirk.

My gaze flicked to Lillian. Her jaw was clenched, her fingers tightening around her fork.

Unable to resist, I leaned in and whispered, "Don’t they make the perfect couple? Let’s not ruin it for them, hmm?"