Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 107

ISOLDE'S POV

Every time I approached the Battle Arena, I silently prayed to the Moon Goddess that Evanthe wouldn't be there. Or that she wouldn't show up later. But it seemed the Moon Goddess had been ignoring my prayers lately, because every single time, I spotted Evanthe's silhouette somewhere in the training facility.

Today was no different. As I pushed open the heavy glass doors of the Battle Arena, I immediately sensed her presence before I even saw her. A chill ran down my spine, my wolf instincts heightening in response to nearby danger.

*She's here,* Lyra growled low in my mind.

I didn't need to look far to confirm it. Evanthe stood in the far corner, her golden hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, her blue eyes following my every move. Her gaze held nothing but pure hatred—it might as well have been my death warrant written in her eyes.

*Just ignore her,* I told myself, trying to focus on my training goals for the day. I needed to work on my defensive maneuvers, especially after Orion had pointed out my tendency to leave my left side vulnerable during our last session.

As I scanned the room, my eyes brightened when I spotted Nyssa sitting on a bench in the rest area, tying her shoelaces. Finally, a friendly face! My mood instantly lightened as I made my way over to her, a smile forming on my lips.

"Nyssa," I called softly, my voice warm with familiarity.

She looked up, and I immediately sensed something was wrong. Instead of her usual bright smile or friendly hug, her expression remained flat. She gave me a brief glance, then pulled her lips into what barely qualified as a smile before mumbling an unenthusiastic, "Hey."

She quickly returned her attention to her shoelaces, deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.

I frowned, tilting my head and giving her a playful look. What was going on? This wasn't the warm, encouraging Nyssa I'd come to know during our training sessions.

*Something's not right,* Lyra warned, suddenly alert in my mind. *Be careful.*

"You okay?" I asked, genuine concern in my voice.

"Do I not look okay?" she snapped back, her tone icy, still refusing to meet my eyes.

I blinked, taken aback by her hostility. "You... you just look really serious right now."

"Well, I don't have to walk around with a smile plastered on my face all the time, do I?" she retorted, finally looking up at me with raised eyebrows and a challenging glare.

I glanced around the room, wondering if I'd somehow mistaken someone else for Nyssa. But no, this was definitely her—same face, same build, same voice. Just a completely different attitude.

*What the hell is going on?* I asked Lyra silently.

*I don't know,* my wolf replied, bristling with suspicion. *But I don't like it. Something feels off.*

Taking a deep breath, I tried to remain calm. "No, you don't," I replied evenly. "I guess you're just having a rough morning."

"My morning is perfectly fine!" she shot back, her tone dripping with hostility.

"Okay," I said simply, pressing my lips together as I moved a few steps away to set down my gym bag.

My mind was reeling. Had I done something to offend her? We'd parted on good terms after our last training session. She'd even complimented my improved technique. I glanced back at her occasionally, hoping to see some softening in her expression, but she continued to look disgruntled, her movements sharp and aggressive as she finished preparing for training.

*Maybe someone's gotten to her,* Lyra suggested. *Be on guard. Nothing happens by coincidence in this place.*

*You're right,* I agreed silently. *I need to watch my back more carefully.*

"Alright everyone, gather up for warm-up!" Orion's commanding voice echoed through the arena.

I hurriedly finished tying my shoes and securing my laces. By the time I joined the group, I was the last one in line, and Orion shot me a disapproving look.

*Great. Just great.* I sighed internally. *This day is already going to shit.*

*Stay focused,* Lyra urged. *Stay calm.*

As we began our warm-up routine, stretching our muscles in preparation for the more intense training to come, an unexpected voice broke through the concentrated silence.

"Has anyone ever tried ranking Isolde, Nyssa, and Evanthe based on their fighting skills?" one of the Silver Moon Group's male members asked casually.

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. I turned sharply to look at the speaker, immediately on alert. I didn't like where this was heading. The tension between Evanthe and me was already at breaking point—the last thing we needed was a direct comparison that would only pour gasoline on the fire.

Around me, several men were looking between the three of us with interest, some even sporting smirks that suggested they were anticipating drama. I shot a desperate glance toward Orion, hoping he would shut down this potentially explosive conversation.

Instead, to my horror, he smiled and looked away, clearly interested. "He's into it. He wants the conversation to continue," I realized with dismay.

*Fuck,* I thought.

*This is a trap,* Lyra growled low in my mind, sensing the danger.

"Evanthe is definitely the strongest of the three..." another man began analyzing, stroking his bearded chin as he studied us. "But for second place... I really don't know whether Isolde or Nyssa should take that position."

"Isolde, of course!" Leo spoke up confidently. "She's won every confrontation she's been in, and she can hold her own against the Lycan King for ten rounds in simulation combat. Most of you guys can't even do that. She's an excellent warrior. She's definitely second in my book."

When Leo finished speaking, nearly everyone nodded in agreement. Some even murmured among themselves, discussing my fighting techniques and previous victories.

I should have smiled gratefully at Leo, but I was too terrified to do so. From the corner of my eye, I could see the fury on Evanthe's face. If we were paired for combat practice today, I knew she would try to hurt me—really hurt me—without any restraint.

"I disagree."

The single voice of opposition cut through the murmurs of agreement. I turned to see who had spoken and found myself looking at Marcus, his expression dark, his eyes filled with hostility. I'd never even spoken to him before, so his animosity was puzzling.

"And what's your reasoning, Marcus?" Leo asked, crossing his arms.

"It's not just about skill... it's about lineage. Origins," Marcus stated firmly. "Isolde is just a common werewolf," he emphasized, making the term sound like an insult. "She's naturally weaker than a purebred Lycan like Nyssa."

I felt my jaw tighten at his words.

"Nyssa has been training far longer than Isolde, who was only 'recruited' by Silver Moon a few weeks ago," he continued, making air quotes around the word 'recruited.' "To say Isolde has better fighting skills than Nyssa is an insult to Nyssa."

"I propose a duel," Marcus announced, clapping his hands together with an air of finality. "Nyssa and Isolde will fight after today's training session. The winner takes second place."