Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 15

Isolde's POV

 

The battle arena was nothing like I'd expected. Instead of some underground fighting pit, it was a state-of-the-art training facility with multiple sparring areas, professional equipment, and even a small spectator section. The space hummed with activity—several women were working out on various apparatus, their movements precise and powerful.

 

"Impressive setup," I admitted as Nyssa led me toward an empty training mat.

 

"Silver Moon doesn't do anything halfway," she replied, pulling her dark hair back into a tight ponytail. "You said you wanted to blow off steam. What's your experience level?"

 

"Some martial arts growing up. Boxing. Street fighting when necessary."

 

Nyssa's eyebrows rose. "Street fighting?"

 

"Emerald Valley isn't exactly a safe neighborhood," I said dryly. "You learn to defend yourself or you become a victim."

 

"Let's start with some basic combat moves," Nyssa suggested, leading me to an open mat.

 

I fell into the familiar rhythm of combat training that had been my escape back home. My body moved instinctively, muscle memory taking over as I demonstrated the techniques I'd spent years perfecting.

 

I didn't need to be told twice. The moment we began sparring, all the frustration and anger from the last few days poured out of me.

 

Nyssa was good—better than good.

 

"Wow," Nyssa said, genuinely impressed. "Most Alliance girls can barely throw a punch."

 

Orion approached us directly, his powerful presence causing the others to step back respectfully.

 

"You have good form," he commented, his deep voice carrying easily across the now-silent room. "But your left guard drops when you counter. May I?"

 

I nodded, unsure what to expect. Orion took Nyssa's place on the mat, settling into a fighting stance that spoke of years of training and experience.

 

"Come at me," he instructed.

 

Taking a deep breath, I launched forward with a combination I'd practiced thousands of times. He blocked each strike with seemingly minimal effort, his movements fluid and precise. When I attempted a right hook, he easily evaded and countered with a gentle tap to my ribs—just hard enough to show me where my defense had failed.

 

"You're telegraphing your intentions," he explained. "Your eyes give away your next move before your body follows."

 

For the next twenty minutes, he guided me through various exercises, correcting my form with patient instruction. His teaching style was firm but not condescending, and I found myself genuinely grateful for his expertise.

 

"Let's try something more challenging," he suggested after I successfully blocked a series of his attacks. "A full spar, but I'll hold back until I see you can handle more."

 

We circled each other on the mat, the entire training center now watching our interaction. I struck first with a feint to the left before launching a right kick toward his midsection. He dodged, attempting a left hook that I narrowly avoided.

 

The dance continued, growing more intense with each exchange. When I landed a solid hit to his shoulder, satisfaction surged through me—until he caught my right arm in a lightning-fast move, using my momentum against me. Before I could counter, I found myself flipped onto the mat, his leg pinning me down.

 

"Good," he acknowledged, offering a hand to help me up. "With proper training, you could become exceptional."

 

As I grasped his hand, a sudden, overwhelming scent hit my senses—pine and winter snow, powerful and dominant. My entire body reacted instantly, a rush of heat flooding through me so intensely it made me gasp.

 

My skin flushed hot, nipples hardening painfully beneath my training top as a wave of desperate arousal pooled between my thighs. The sensation was so unexpected and powerful that my knees nearly buckled.

 

*It's like the last time... What the fuck is happening to me?*

 

*He's here,* Lyra said, her mental voice tight with tension. *The Alpha. He's watching us.*

 

I didn't need to look around to confirm it. I could smell him, could feel his presence like a physical weight pressing against my skin. My nipples hardened to painful points beneath my sports bra, and the wetness between my legs was becoming impossible to ignore.

 

"You alright?" Orion asked, offering me a hand up.

 

I took it, hoping he couldn't see how badly my hands were shaking. "Fine. Just lost focus for a second."

 

But as I stood, I realized with growing horror that it wasn't just internal arousal I was dealing with. The gray training pants I'd borrowed from the facility were made of thin material, and there was a visible damp patch spreading between my thighs.

 

Orion's gaze flicked downward, his expression becoming carefully neutral. "Maybe we should take a break," he said quietly.

 

My face burned with humiliation. "I need to go."

 

"Isolde—"

 

"I said I need to go."

 

I pushed through the crowd without looking back, my face flaming with embarrassment. Behind me, I could hear Orion dismissing the spectators, his voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

 

I made it to the women's locker room before my legs gave out. Sitting on one of the benches, I put my head in my hands and tried to process what had just happened.

 

*This is insane,* I thought. *People don't just... react like that to someone's presence.*

 

*Tell that to your body,* Lyra replied grimly.

 

She was right. Even now, with Ezra presumably gone, I could still feel the lingering effects of whatever had just happened to me. My skin felt too tight, my pulse was still racing, and there was an ache between my legs that I'd never experienced before.

 

For years, I'd convinced myself that I had some kind of hormonal imbalance that kept me from feeling what other women felt. Even with Kieran, the thought of sex had never been pleasant. I'd started to think that maybe I was just one of those people who didn't really experience strong physical desire.

 

But what had just happened to me... that was the opposite of not experiencing desire. That was desire so intense it had literally left evidence on my clothes.

 

*What the hell is wrong with me?*