Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 151

ISOLDE'S POV

I woke up alone in Ezra's penthouse, my body aching in places I didn't want to think about. The massive bed felt empty without him, though I wasn't surprised. This had become our routine lately—intense, almost brutal sex followed by his disappearance before dawn.

Wincing, I sat up and checked the time. 9:30 AM. Ezra had probably been gone for hours already, throwing himself into work as he always did after our nights together. As if fucking me was just another task to complete before returning to what really mattered.

After showering and dressing in the clothes I'd brought with me, I found Cade waiting to drive me back to the Alliance Residence. The ride was silent, which I appreciated. My body felt used, my emotions raw.

When I arrived at the dining hall, Thalia waved me over to where she was sitting with Cleo. I grabbed a plate and filled it with food I had no appetite for before joining them.

"Well, look who finally made it to breakfast," Thalia said with a small smile, but her expression changed as she studied my face. "You look like shit, Isolde."

I forced a laugh. "Good morning to you too."

"No, I'm serious." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You don't look well. What happened?"

*I look like shit because I feel like shit*, I thought bitterly. My private parts were sore, my heart was bruised, and my dignity was somewhere on the floor of Ezra's bedroom. Last night, he'd been particularly rough, fucking me from behind with no tenderness, no kisses, nothing but primal desire. I'd lain there, fighting tears until exhaustion finally claimed me.

"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile that felt like it might crack my face.

Thalia's eyes narrowed. "Things with Ezra... any improvement?"

I shook my head slightly. "None whatsoever."

Cleo returned with coffee for all of us. "Here, you look like you need this more than I do," she said, sliding an extra cup toward me.

I was about to thank her when a hush fell over the dining hall. Sybilla had entered, and the reaction was immediate.

"Oh, look who's here," called out one of the girls from across the room.

"It's the champion slut!" another one jeered.

"Sybilla, Emerald Valley's favorite whore!" a third voice chimed in.

I watched as Sybilla froze, her face paling as the verbal assault continued.

"Whore!"

"Slut!"

"I think 'sex addict' suits her better..."

The cruel laughter echoed throughout the dining hall. I felt a strange twist in my stomach watching Sybilla stand there, the target of their viciousness. I couldn't bring myself to join in. How could I? I'd been in her position not long ago, though for different reasons.

Thalia shook her head in disgust. "They're destroying her," she muttered.

I remained silent, watching as Sybilla's eyes filled with tears. Her chin trembled as she tried to maintain her composure, but it was a losing battle. Finally, with a choked sob, she turned and fled from the dining hall.

Part of me wanted to follow her, to offer some comfort despite our history. But I hesitated. Sybilla had never shown me any kindness, and getting involved would only invite trouble and more insults. Besides, she'd probably blame me for this somehow. Still, I couldn't help hoping karma would eventually catch up to these bullies.

"Well, what goes around comes around," Cleo remarked after Sybilla had gone, stirring her coffee with casual indifference.

"That was awful to watch," Thalia said. "Those girls have no conscience."

"No, they don't," I agreed quietly.

Cleo leaned forward, eager to change the subject. "Isolde, I heard there's a tournament between the warriors this weekend. You're competing, right?"

I nodded, picking at my untouched breakfast. "Yes, I am."

"That's fantastic!" Thalia exclaimed. "I know you'll make it to the finals. Evanthe will too, I bet. I hope you crush her."

I gave her a wry smile. "It won't be easy, Thalia. Evanthe is a high-ranking warrior and she is a Lycan."

Thalia waved away my concerns. "And you're from an Alpha family lineage... you're just as powerful as she is. Even more so, because you have elite werewolf blood in your veins, and you've been training in combat since childhood."

I couldn't help but laugh at her analysis. "I'll try my best to make it to the finals. I'll fight with everything I have that day. If I win, great. If I don't, that's fine too. Don't set your expectations too high—you'll only be disappointed."

But my words to Thalia and Cleo couldn't have been further from my true thoughts.

The reality was, I was determined to fight my way to the finals and face Evanthe. I was looking forward to teaching her a lesson in public. Our mutual dislike had only grown stronger over time, and the opportunity to defeat her in front of everyone—especially Ezra—was too tempting to resist.

And deeper still, beneath my desire for victory, lay a more vulnerable hope: maybe, just maybe, if I could win the women's division without disappointing Ezra, his feelings for me might rekindle. Perhaps our relationship could return to what it once was.

I was a hopeless romantic, I knew that. But my heart beat uncontrollably for him. My face still flushed when I thought about him. And Lyra kept insisting he was my mate, despite everything.

I was hopelessly in love with the man, even when he treated me like nothing more than a convenient body to fuck.