Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 167

ISOLDE'S POV

I stood my ground as Ezra reached for my hand. I jerked away, determined not to let his touch cloud my judgment. If I allowed him to touch me, I'd melt into a puddle of emotions and he wouldn't take my concerns seriously.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "One minute we were happy, everything was good, and the next moment everything went to shit. You started treating me like I was some worthless creature who didn't deserve your concern."

Ezra shook his head, attempting to deny it, but I wasn't having it.

"Yes, you did!" I insisted, feeling tears threatening to spill. "You absolutely did!"

He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, sighing in defeat. He turned away, running his fingers through his hair as he cursed under his breath. He looked as frustrated as I felt.

"I know saying sorry doesn't change how badly I've treated you recently," he finally said, his voice rough with emotion, "but I am sorry."

I watched him, surprised by the raw honesty in his tone. The powerful Alpha looked almost... broken.

"I've been confused and scared and frustrated," he continued, the words coming out ragged. "The elders keep asking if you're my second chance mate, and I don't know what to tell them. I don't know how to answer that question, so I took it out on you."

My heart skipped a beat. The elders were asking about me? About us?

"I know that doesn't excuse how I've been acting toward you," he added.

I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "You hurt me with your sudden change in attitude," I admitted, my voice breaking. "But what hurt me even more was your silence. The fact that you didn't communicate with me made me feel worthless."

I took a shaky breath before asking the question that had been tormenting me. "Am I just a whore to you? Like the other girls? Can I be replaced by anyone outside?"

Ezra's head snapped up, his eyes filled with anguish as he shook his head vehemently. "No, no, no. Of course not. You're not a whore, and I've never seen you that way. You're irreplaceable!"

"Liar!" I spat, feeling sick to my stomach.

His eyes grew wet. "I'm not lying, Isolde."

He stepped toward me again, and this time I didn't pull away when he took my left hand. He pressed a kiss to it, sending a burning sensation through my skin.

"You matter to me," he said, his voice tight and trembling. "So much."

Ezra sighed, his expression pained. "I won't lie to you and say I'm ready... ready for our next step. I'm not." He closed his eyes, breathing heavily. "But I promise things will be better between us from now on. Our relationship will improve. I promise I'll be better."

I was so shocked I couldn't speak. This was not the Ezra Silverwood I knew—the powerful CEO of Silver Moon Group, the Lycan King who commanded respect with just a look. This man before me was nervous, his hands trembling, his voice breaking. He was overwhelmed by emotion, unable to maintain his usual control.

I lowered my eyes, my cheeks burning. I unconsciously pinched myself, trying to make sure this was real.

Ezra stepped closer, bending slightly to meet my eyes. "Isolde, will you look at me?" he asked, his voice honey-coated and irresistible.

I lifted my gaze to his, drawn by the charming smile playing at his lips—a smile that could dismantle all my defenses.

"Aren't you going to say something?" he asked softly.

"I don't know what to say," I mumbled, feeling utterly tongue-tied. "This conversation didn't go how I thought it would. I thought at some point I'd slap you, and you'd get angry and order your security to throw me in the basement, and then I'd be publicly executed for laying hands on the Lycan King."

Ezra's body shook with quiet laughter.

I stared at him, completely mesmerized, my cheeks redder than a summer sunset.

"Move in with me," he said suddenly.

My eyebrows shot up so high they nearly touched the ceiling. I must have misheard him.

"I want you to move in with me," he repeated.

My heart clenched painfully in my chest.

"What? You can't be serious," I said, stunned.

His expression was dead serious, and I realized he meant every word. But I shook my head.

"No."

"No?" He looked genuinely surprised by my refusal.

"No," I repeated firmly. "You just said you're not ready for our next step."

"We'll take it slow," he replied.

"This is not taking it slow," I argued, gesturing around at his massive penthouse. "Moving in together is a huge step. We'd be sharing a space, a bed, a life. That's the opposite of slow."

Ezra frowned, clearly not used to having his suggestions rejected. "I want you closer to me. Is that so difficult to understand?"

"It's not about understanding," I said, trying to organize my thoughts. "It's about what makes sense for us right now. You just admitted you're confused about what we are to each other. Shouldn't we figure that out before we start living together?"

"What exactly are you afraid of?" Ezra asked, his tone softening as he studied my face. "That I'll change my mind? That I'll revert to how I've been treating you?"

I bit my lip. "Partly, yes. But it's more than that. I need stability, Ezra. I need to know where I stand with you. One minute you're cold and distant, the next you want me to move in. It gives me emotional whiplash."

He ran his hand through his hair again, a gesture I was beginning to recognize as a sign of his frustration. "I understand your concerns, but having you here would make things easier. We could talk more, spend time together without the logistics of you coming and going."

"And what about my things? My space? My independence?" I countered. "Would I just be a guest in your home, or would this really be our place?"

"You could have an entire floor to yourself if you wanted," he replied quickly. "I'd give you whatever space you need."

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. "That's not what I mean, and you know it. Living together isn't just about physical space."

Ezra's expression hardened slightly. "I don't care what it is," he said, his tone becoming authoritative again. "All I know is that you're moving in with me, and that's final."

He walked past me, muttering something about taking a shower.

I stood frozen in place, my mind exploding with conflicting emotions. The thought of waking up next to him every day made my heart race.

I sank onto the edge of a nearby chair, trying to process what had just happened. Our relationship had just escalated dramatically, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for the fallout.