Chapter 90

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Lillian's bedroom, casting delicate patterns across the rumpled sheets. She stirred, her body aching in places she hadn't known could ache, memories of last night flooding back with embarrassing clarity.

"Ugh," she groaned, burying her face in the pillow that still carried Sebastian's intoxicating scent. Her wolf purred contentedly, thoroughly satisfied after their passionate reunion.

A soft knock at the door made her jump. "Miss Lillian?" Giselle's polite voice called. "Mr. Blackwood asked me to inform you breakfast will be served in thirty minutes."

Lillian's stomach growled in response. "Thank you, Giselle," she called back, wincing at how hoarse her voice sounded.

She dragged herself to the ensuite bathroom, catching her reflection in the mirror. The love bites trailing down her neck made her cheeks burn. "You animal," she muttered to her absent mate, though she couldn't suppress the smug smile tugging at her lips.

The steaming shower helped ease some of the soreness. As she dressed in the casual outfit someone—probably Sebastian—had left out for her, her phone buzzed with a message from Beatrice:

"So... did you two work things out? Or should I start planning a funeral?"

Lillian snorted. "Very funny. We're good. Better than good."

"Details. Now."

"Not a chance," Lillian typed back, grinning. "Some things are private."

She pocketed her phone just as another knock sounded—this one sharper, more impatient. Before she could respond, the door swung open to reveal Oliver, his little face scrunched in disapproval.

"You slept forever!" he accused, hands on his hips. "Dad said not to wake you, but I'm hungry and he won't eat until you do."

Lillian's heart melted. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" She ruffled his hair. "Lead the way, munchkin."

The dining room was bathed in golden morning light, the long table set with an elaborate spread. Sebastian stood by the window, phone to his ear, his commanding presence making the spacious room feel suddenly small. He turned at their entrance, his stormy eyes lighting up when they landed on her.

"I'll call you back," he said abruptly, ending his call. In three long strides he was before her, cupping her face with surprising gentleness. "Good morning," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that made her toes curl despite their audience.

Oliver made exaggerated gagging sounds. "Gross! Can we eat now?"

Sebastian chuckled, the rare sound sending warmth through Lillian's chest. "Yes, Oliver. Let's eat."

As they settled around the table, Marcus entered with urgent news. "Alpha, we have a situation at the eastern border. Rogue wolves trespassing again."

Sebastian's jaw tightened. "How many?"

"At least a dozen. They're being unusually aggressive."

Lillian's stomach dropped. Rogues didn't normally travel in such numbers unless... unless they were being directed by someone.

Sebastian met her worried gaze. "Eat," he ordered gently. "I'll handle this." He stood, already issuing commands to Marcus.

But as he turned to leave, Lillian caught his wrist. "Wait." She rose, determination straightening her spine. "I'm coming with you."

Oliver piped up, "Me too!"

"No," both adults said simultaneously.

Sebastian's thumb stroked her inner wrist. "You're still recovering," he said lowly, for her ears only.

She lifted her chin. "I'm your Luna now. This is my duty too."

The pride in his eyes made her pulse skip. After a beat, he nodded. "Very well. But stay close."

As they hurried out, Lillian couldn't shake the growing unease coiling in her gut. This wasn't random. Someone was testing their borders—testing them. And she had a terrible suspicion she knew exactly who.

"He kissed you?!" Beatrice's shriek pierced through the phone the next afternoon, forcing me to pull the device away from my ear.

"Yes," I admitted, stepping out of the Uber as it parked outside Sebastian’s sprawling villa. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawn. "It was... unexpected." I handed the driver a generous tip before shutting the door behind me.

"Beatrice, I have to go—I just got to work," I said, hurrying up the stone steps leading to the grand entrance.

"Fine, but you better call me later. I need every detail," she demanded.

"Promise," I assured her before ending the call.

Truthfully, there wasn’t much to tell. The kiss had been... adequate. Pleasant, even. But it hadn’t set my pulse racing. It hadn’t left me breathless. It certainly hadn’t made my knees weak.

Not like his kisses had.

My cheeks flushed at the memory.

Why did Sebastian keep invading my thoughts at moments like this? I shouldn’t be thinking about him—or the way his lips had once claimed mine with such possessive heat. But even last night, while dancing under the stars with Nathaniel, my traitorous mind had wandered.

What if it had been Sebastian’s arms around me instead? What if it had been his lips brushing against mine in the dim glow of the jazz club? What if, just for one night, I had been the only woman he wanted?

I shook my head sharply. Ridiculous. Those thoughts were dangerous. Sebastian was my employer—nothing more. That one reckless night in his office didn’t mean he felt anything for me.

If anything, he saw me exactly as I feared: a fleeting distraction. Someone to indulge in for a night and forget by morning.

The bitter thought coiled in my chest like smoke.

Theodore stood at the doorway, his expression as cold as ever. He still hadn’t forgiven me for humiliating him in front of Sebastian. Now, he wasn’t even permitted to speak unless directly addressed. Not that I felt guilty—Theodore had been scheming to get me fired since day one.

Ironically, he had been the one to recommend me for this job.

"Master Oliver is waiting in the parlor," he informed me stiffly. "He’s already begun his assignments. I believe he’s eager for your sparring session this evening."

A smile tugged at my lips. Oliver’s enthusiasm was contagious.

"Thank you, Theodore," I replied, keeping my tone polite despite the tension between us.

As I stepped inside, the weight of unspoken desires and unasked questions lingered in the air—thick enough to choke on.

I didn’t want any tension between us, but that was entirely up to him.

He gave a curt nod, and I continued toward the back parlor, where Oliver was hunched over his book, scribbling notes in his notebook. The sight made me smile—until my gaze landed on the figure lounging on the loveseat across the room, her fingers flying over her phone screen.

When I stepped inside, she glanced up, offering a tight, humorless smile.

"Hello, Lillian," Victoria greeted, her voice tinged with something close to melancholy.

"Hey, Victoria," I replied, keeping my tone neutral, though her presence here unsettled me.

At least she was alone this time. I wanted to ask where Donovan was, but the stormy look in her eyes told me everything. Maybe she was still fuming over being dragged to the gallery last night. Nathaniel had mentioned they’d been arguing nonstop lately, and she hadn’t even wanted to go out. So, imagine my surprise when I spotted them there after our walk.

I’d fully expected Donovan to corner me at some point, but shockingly, he kept his distance.

Maybe he’d finally gotten the message that I wanted nothing to do with him. Or maybe he was too busy reassuring his precious Victoria that his attention wasn’t wandering.

"Do you mind if I sit with you while you tutor?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I need a distraction."

I glanced at Oliver, still absorbed in his work, then back at Victoria.

"Sure," I said.

Relief flickered across her face as she sank deeper into the loveseat. I took my place beside Oliver, and for the next hour, we worked through his assignments, reviewing what he’d already completed. Once finished, we headed outside for combat practice.

To my surprise, Victoria trailed after us, eyes glued to her phone, barely watching where she stepped.

When we reached the training area, she flopped onto a lounge chair, fingers still flying over her screen. I frowned, but she didn’t notice.

"Her and Donovan had another fight," Oliver murmured under his breath. "She’s been sulking all day."