Chapter 89

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Sebastian Blackwood’s penthouse, painting the marble floors in warm hues. Lillian stretched lazily in the oversized bed, her body still humming from the intensity of last night’s mating bond. Sebastian had been relentless, his possessive nature flaring up after the confrontation with Donovan.

She traced her fingers over the fresh bite mark on her shoulder—Sebastian’s claim, still tender. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of his growl vibrating against her skin.

The door creaked open, and Oliver peeked in, his dark curls tousled from sleep. "Lillian?" he whispered, clutching a stuffed wolf to his chest.

She smiled and patted the space beside her. "Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"

Oliver climbed onto the bed, his small frame bouncing slightly. "I had a dream about flying," he said excitedly. "But then I woke up and remembered I can’t."

Lillian chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Maybe one day, when you’re older."

Sebastian strode in then, already dressed in a tailored navy suit, his presence commanding the room. His golden eyes flickered with satisfaction as he took in the sight of Lillian and Oliver together.

"Good, you're awake," he said, his voice deep. "We have a meeting with the council in an hour."

Lillian groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. "Do we have to? I was hoping for a lazy morning."

Sebastian smirked, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. "No excuses, little wolf. The sooner we deal with this, the sooner I can have you to myself again."

Oliver made a face. "Ew, gross."

Lillian laughed, swatting Sebastian’s chest lightly. "See what you did?"

Sebastian merely arched a brow before turning to his son. "Oliver, go get dressed. Victoria will take you to breakfast."

The boy scrambled off the bed, his stuffed wolf forgotten as he dashed out the door.

Lillian sighed, sitting up. "What’s the meeting about?"

Sebastian’s expression darkened. "Donovan’s been stirring trouble. He’s challenging my claim over you."

Her stomach twisted. "He can’t be serious."

"He is," Sebastian growled. "And he’s not alone. Alpha Harrison is backing him."

Lillian’s breath hitched. Alpha Harrison—the same man who had tried to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable. The thought of facing him again made her skin crawl.

Sebastian cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "No one touches what’s mine," he said, his voice edged with steel. "Not Donovan, not Harrison—no one."

The possessiveness in his tone sent a thrill through her, but beneath it, unease lingered.

Because if Donovan was willing to go this far, what else was he capable of?

And more importantly—what would Sebastian do to stop him?

The music swirled around us as Nathaniel and I began to dance, our steps perfectly in sync. "You certainly know how to charm a lady, Mr. Whitlock," I teased as he spun me again, this time with a little more flair. The sudden motion nearly sent me stumbling, forcing me to clutch his shoulder for balance. The movement brought me flush against him, our bodies pressed close enough that I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

My breath hitched when we paused, mere inches apart, our breaths mingling in the cool night air.

"I only speak what I feel, Miss Dumont," he murmured before dipping me low, his grip firm yet gentle.

As the final notes of the song faded, applause erupted around us. I offered the crowd a small, gracious wave while Nathaniel chuckled, guiding me away from the gathering with a hand at the small of my back. We strolled beneath the glittering canopy of stars, the moon casting a silvery glow over the gardens.

"It's a perfect night," I mused, tilting my head up to admire the sky.

"Indeed," he agreed, his voice warm.

Then, unexpectedly, his arm slid around my waist, pulling me closer. I stiffened slightly—without the excuse of dancing, the sudden intimacy felt strange, almost too deliberate.

"Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Lillian," he said, his tone sincere. "You’ve made this evening unforgettable."

"I enjoyed myself too, Nathaniel," I replied softly. "Thank you."

We stopped walking, and he turned to face me fully. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from my cheek, his touch featherlight.

"You’re breathtaking," he murmured. "And I owe you an apology—I may have been too forward last night. I never meant to make you uncomfortable."

Heat rushed to my cheeks at the memory—his lips nearly meeting mine before I turned away, avoiding the kiss.

"It wasn’t discomfort," I admitted. "I just… wasn’t ready."

His gaze searched mine, thoughtful. "Because of Donovan?"

The name struck like a physical blow. I tensed, instinctively trying to step back, but his grip held me in place.

"I—what?" My voice came out sharper than intended, my pulse spiking.

"I know about the two of you," he confessed. "Dominic looked into it. You were fated mates."

"Why would you investigate that?" I hissed, my stomach twisting.

"I didn’t mean to cross a line," he said quickly. "But I could tell something was weighing on you. I just wanted to understand, Lillian. Not to hurt you."

"And you couldn’t have just asked me?" My voice trembled with betrayal.

"I did," he reminded me gently. "And you lied."

The accusation burned. I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued before I could speak.

"You don’t have to be afraid—"

The rest of his words were lost as my mind reeled. How much did he really know? And what else had Dominic uncovered?

The night no longer felt so perfect.

Nathaniel's voice was soft yet firm as he spoke. "Lillian. I'm here, and I won't hurt you. What he did was unforgivable, but none of it was your fault."

"Victoria must never find out—"

"I know," he murmured, his tone soothing. "And she won't."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with unshed tears. My gaze locked onto his, searching for any hint of deception. When I found none, I gave a small, hesitant nod.

"You're safe with me, Lillian. I swear it," he promised, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

Something in his words made my rigid posture ease. His lips curved into a gentle smile as he leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin.

"You say you're not ready," he murmured, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "But the fact that you're here with me now tells a different story." His thumb brushed my lower lip, sending a shiver down my spine. "I want to kiss you."

My breath hitched. His dark eyes burned with intensity, fixed on my mouth. My pulse quickened, and after a heartbeat of hesitation, I nodded.

A slow, satisfied smile tugged at his lips before he closed the distance between us. His kiss was tender, achingly soft, as if he feared I might break beneath his touch.

Third Person POV

The moment stretched between them, charged with unspoken emotions. Nathaniel's hands cradled Lillian's face as if she were something precious, something to be cherished.

She melted into him, her earlier tension dissolving under the warmth of his touch.

But even as their lips moved together, a shadow of doubt lingered in the back of her mind.

Was this real?

Or was it just another fleeting moment before the storm?