Chapter 8

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across Lillian’s bedroom. She stretched lazily, her muscles still sore from yesterday’s combat training. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted up from the kitchen, making her stomach growl.

Downstairs, the mansion was already alive with activity. Giselle Beaumont, the head maid, was directing the staff with her usual efficiency, while Lucien Dubois, the flirtatious head chef, hummed a tune as he prepared breakfast.

Lillian padded into the dining room, where Sebastian Blackwood sat at the head of the table, reading the morning papers. His sharp eyes flicked up as she entered, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Sleep well?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

"Like a log," she replied, sliding into her seat. Oliver, Sebastian’s seven-year-old son, grinned at her from across the table, his cheeks stuffed with pancakes.

"You’re late," Victoria announced, her tone dripping with disdain. She was already dressed impeccably, her engagement ring glinting under the chandelier.

Lillian ignored her, reaching for the coffee pot. "Some of us actually need sleep," she muttered under her breath.

Theodore Whitmore, the butler, appeared at her side with a fresh plate of eggs and toast. "You’ll need your strength today, Miss Lillian," he said quietly. "Professor Montgomery has scheduled another sparring session."

Lillian groaned. "Great. Just what I need—more bruises."

Sebastian folded his newspaper. "You’re improving," he said, his gaze steady. "But you still hesitate too much."

Before she could retort, Beatrice burst into the room, her hair a wild mess. "You won’t believe what just happened!" she exclaimed, waving her phone.

Lillian raised an eyebrow. "What now?"

Beatrice plopped into the chair beside her. "Cassandra posted this ridiculous rumor about you on campus forums. Says you cheated on your last exam."

Lillian rolled her eyes. "Of course she did."

Sebastian’s expression darkened. "Do you want me to handle it?"

"No," Lillian said quickly. "I’ll deal with her myself."

Victoria smirked. "Good luck with that."

The tension in the room thickened, but before it could escalate, Marcus Grayson, Sebastian’s beta, strode in. "Alpha, we have a problem."

Sebastian stood immediately. "What is it?"

Marcus hesitated, glancing at Lillian. "It’s about Donovan. He’s been spotted near the eastern border."

Lillian’s stomach twisted. Donovan, her ex-fated mate, was the last person she wanted to think about.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. "Gather the gammas. We’ll meet in my office."

As he and Marcus left, Beatrice squeezed Lillian’s hand. "You okay?"

Lillian forced a smile. "Peachy."

But inside, her mind raced. Why was Donovan back? And what did he want?

The day had barely begun, and already, trouble was brewing.

"I don't mix personal relationships with business," Sebastian replied coolly, leaning back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. He had no intention of continuing this conversation. His mind was made up—he wouldn’t be seeing Lillian Montague again.

"Or is it that you're just scared?" Marcus teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Sebastian shot his Beta a sharp glare.

"Marcus, you're fired," he muttered.

Marcus only laughed, shaking his head in amusement.

"How many times have you fired me this month?" he asked, still chuckling.

"This week alone? More than I can count. One of these days, I’ll mean it," Sebastian retorted, rolling his eyes.

"And you think that’s going to stop me from speaking my mind? We’ve known each other for years, Alpha. What makes you think I’ll stay quiet now?"

"Just focus on driving, Beta," Sebastian growled through clenched teeth.

Marcus opened his mouth to retort, but his phone rang, cutting him off mid-sentence. He pulled it out and answered, the call connecting through the car’s Bluetooth system. A familiar voice filled the cabin.

"Butler Theodore, you’re on speaker. Alpha Sebastian is with me," Marcus announced.

Theodore had served the Blackwood family for decades, a trusted confidant. Sebastian had personally entrusted him with the care of his seven-year-old son, Oliver, while he was away. Theodore rarely called unless it was about Oliver, so the moment Sebastian heard his voice, his instincts sharpened.

"Ah, good, Alpha. I must speak with you regarding your son. Another tutor resigned this evening," Theodore said, frustration lacing his tone.

"Another one?" Sebastian pressed his lips into a thin line.

That made forty-nine. No tutor lasted more than a few days. Oliver wasn’t a bad child, but Sebastian knew he had his struggles.

"Yes, sir. Young Master Oliver frightened her off, just like the others. I’ve tried reasoning with him, but he only lashes out at me, Alpha."

"Expand the search and double the salary offer," Sebastian commanded. "Perhaps higher pay will make them stay longer."

Theodore sighed.

"Very well, Alpha. I’ll see what I can do," he murmured before the line went dead.

Marcus remained silent for a moment, stealing occasional glances at Sebastian through the rearview mirror.

"Do you think he’s acting out because of his mother?" Marcus finally ventured.

Sebastian’s glare burned through the reflection.

"He doesn’t speak to his mother," Sebastian said bitterly. "And he won’t for a long time, if I have any say in it."

The past few days had been utterly discouraging. Every single job application I submitted was met with rejection.

I couldn't understand why. My résumé was impeccable—years of experience from previous jobs, a solid education from college, and I was young, fit, and capable. Yet, rejection after rejection piled up, leaving me frustrated.

Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through the job listings again. Most of the positions I had applied to hadn’t even bothered to respond. Then, something new caught my eye.

A tutoring position for a seven-year-old boy. Multiple subjects, including basic combat and defense. Must be knowledgeable and experienced.

The ad had been posted just over an hour ago.

I bit my lip, hesitating only for a second before submitting my résumé. Tutoring would be perfect—it would fit around my own class schedule at the academy. The job was listed on a werewolf-exclusive board, and the location was in the Silver Crescent pack, not far from Redmoon.

Instead of waiting for a callback, I dialed the number listed in the ad.

A deep, authoritative voice answered. "Theodore Whitmore speaking."

"Hello, Mr. Whitmore," I said, keeping my tone professional. "My name is Lillian Dumont. I just came across your ad for a tutor. I’ve submitted my résumé, but I wanted to express my interest directly."

Silence stretched on the other end, making my stomach twist with nerves.

"This isn’t an easy job, Miss Dumont," he finally said. "Have you tutored before?"

"I tutored peers in high school," I answered smoothly. "I’m currently a student at Royal Academy, specializing in combat and shifting. I excel in most subjects—graduated top of my class, and I intend to do the same in college."

"I see," he mused. "Impressive. However, Master Oliver can be... challenging. He needs someone firm."

I didn’t miss a beat. "My goal is to become a Gamma warrior, Mr. Whitmore. If I can’t handle a seven-year-old, then I have bigger problems than this job."

A low chuckle rumbled through the phone. "I admire your confidence, Miss Dumont."

"Please, call me Lillian."

"Very well, Lillian," he conceded. "I’ve just reviewed your résumé—it is impressive. But I must ask—why would someone with your ambitions want to tutor a child?"