Lillian's face darkened as she saw Raymond turn away, a conflicted expression contorting his features. Fury surged through her. She marched toward him, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him back to face her.
"Don't tell me you're going to reject her just because she's not of your kind!" she spat, eyes blazing. "I dare you."
Raymond turned to her, and in that moment, Lillian froze. His eyes glowed blood-red, his canines fully extended. A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest. Lillian stumbled back, alarmed and confused.
"Raymond?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.
Just then, Piper entered, escorting a woman with warm brown hair and a kind but nervous expression. The woman looked chubby, maternal—like someone made for comforting.
"Here she is, Prince—" Piper stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening. "What happened to you?"
Raymond's claws were digging into the edge of the table, his body tense, trembling as if barely holding something back.
"Take the baby," he growled, his voice thick with strain, "and protect her with your life."
The woman, visibly shaken, stepped forward and gently took the baby from Lillian's arms. She held the child close and backed away instinctively, her eyes darting between the prince and Piper in fear.
"Raymond?" Piper asked again, cautiously.
Raymond didn't answer. His jaw clenched, his breathing uneven.
"What's happening to him?" Piper turned to Lillian, desperate for an answer.
"How should I know?" Lillian snapped, still rattled. "He only started changing after realizing the baby was his mate."
"Mate?" Piper's eyes widened in shock, then slowly he nodded in understanding. "Of course... They say the urge to mark a mate is overwhelming—especially for royals. It takes incredible will to resist it. And if the mate is an infant..." He trailed off, now realizing the gravity of the situation. "No wonder the stone brought you here."
"Yeah," Lillian murmured, her voice distant as memories surfaced.
She remembered asking her sister, Bella, not long before her death: "Is he really worth betraying the clan for?"
Bella had remained silent for a long time. Then, finally, she'd replied, "No matter how I try to explain it, you won't understand. Maybe you'll find your partner among the witches—but if fate leads you to a wolf or a vampire... only then will you understand."
At the time, Lillian had thought Bella was delusional. But now, watching Raymond struggle against the primal pull of destiny, she began to understand. There was no logic, no ritual—just a feeling, raw and undeniable. Perhaps the word Bella had searched for was heaven.
Raymond's voice, though rough and gravelly, broke the silence.
"Send the message… to Alpha Kealen," he said after taking a deep breath and steadying himself.
"I haven't forgotten," Lillian replied, her voice calmer now. "I should take my leave. I've stayed away from my people for too long already."
Raymond merely hummed in agreement, his gaze distant.
With a gust of silver light, Lillian vanished—leaving behind a room thick with tension, unspoken truths, and a destiny that had just begun to unfold.
______
"Where have you been, Lillian?"
That voice—soft, melodic, almost childlike—washed over Lillian the very moment the silver light faded and her boots touched the cold floor of her room. It was a voice that didn't belong to a child, though it might have fooled any who didn't know better. Lillian's eyes snapped toward the sound.
There, lounging casually on her bed like she owned it, sat Selene—ageless and ethereal in her beauty. With skin like porcelain and long, dark hair cascading down her back in perfect waves, she looked no older than a seventeen-year-old. But beneath that timeless beauty lay centuries of cunning and power. Selene, the High Enchantress of the oldest coven. The only witch who had ever mastered the Spell of Eternal Youth.
Rage flared in Lillian's chest. Her tone came out sharper than intended.
"Who let you into my room?"
Selene, of course, ignored the question entirely. Her pale fingers delicately brushed over a braid of Lillian's spare cloak, as if examining it for dust.
"You've been leaving the coven too often, Lillian," she murmured, not even looking up. "Very unlike you."
Lillian crossed the room in long, furious strides and snatched the cloak from Selene's grasp. Her emerald eyes glared down at the enchantress.
"Don't tell me I'm now required to report my movements to you." Her voice was low and laced with venom.
Selene didn't flinch. She lifted her icy gaze and smiled—a soft, secretive thing that never reached her eyes.
"I would love it if you did… but we both know you won't." She stood slowly, gracefully. Even her movements were designed to taunt. "Which is why I've decided I'll be keeping you company more often. You'll find me... around."
Lillian scoffed. "Do as you damn well please," she spat. "But don't expect a warm welcome."
Selene took a step closer, her perfume sickly sweet like crushed violets. Her voice dropped just above a whisper.
"You may not fear me now, Lillian... but you should be careful."
There was no threat in her tone—just a chilling truth. Lillian didn't respond, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. She knew Selene's game. She had seen her manipulate, deceive, destroy. Selene had fought Bella not because she feared her—but because she recognized her power. And now, with Bella gone, Selene's poisonous focus had shifted to her.
But Lillian was not her sister.
She would not go quietly.
Selene turned to leave, pausing at the door just long enough to toss her final words over her shoulder.
"I'll be watching you."
And with that, she disappeared—vanishing into the air like mist with a flash of violet sparks and the haunting sway of her silken robes.
Lillian stood in silence for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway. Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from fury. She knew what Selene was doing. Surveillance cloaked in civility. Veiled threats disguised as concern.
But Lillian had already chosen her side.
And she had a promise to keep.
And she is never going back.