Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 188

Ezra's POV

I woke with a jolt, my neck screaming in protest. Fucking hell. My back felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, and my mouth tasted like I'd been licking the bottom of an ashtray.

Disoriented, I blinked at my surroundings. I wasn't in my bedroom. Instead, I found myself slumped over the expensive walnut bar counter in my office, an empty bottle of premium whiskey beside me. Last night's paperwork was scattered across the surface, some pages stained with amber liquid.

*Pathetic,* Prime sneered in my mind. *The great Alpha Ezra, passed out drunk like some weak human.*

"Shut up," I muttered, massaging my throbbing temples.

I stretched my neck, wincing at the cracking sound it made. The memories of last night flooded back—Isolde's tear-streaked face, her accusations, her attempt to reject me. The pain in her eyes when I'd used my Alpha command on her.

I glanced at the empty whiskey bottle. No wonder I'd drunk more than usual. The thought of losing Isolde was unbearable.

"Unless I'm dead, she's not leaving Silver Moon," I said aloud to the empty room. "No one takes what's mine from this place."

My private phone rang, displaying an encrypted number on the screen. I considered ignoring it, but with the current tensions between packs and the internal chaos at Silver Moon Group, it could be important.

"Ezra Silverwood speaking," I answered, my voice rough from sleep and alcohol.

"Alpha Silverwood." A deep, vaguely familiar voice came through. "This is Aiden Hawthorne."

I straightened immediately. Aiden Hawthorne—Evanthe and Orion's father, former Gamma and Security Director of Silver Moon Group.

"What can I do for you, Aiden?" I kept my tone neutral, though warning bells rang in my head.

"I think you know why I'm calling." His voice held a threatening edge. "My daughter is pregnant with your child."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Fuck. So Evanthe had told her father after all.

She wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I growled, my fingers tightening around the phone.

"We need to meet. Discuss arrangements." Aiden said curtly.

My mind raced through a dozen scenarios, none of them good. If Aiden knew, others would soon follow. The entire Silver Moon would be buzzing with this news before the day ended.

"I'll have Nathaniel arrange something," I said shortly.

"Make it soon, Ezra." The use of my first name without my title was deliberate disrespect. "The mother of the future Luna—"

I hung up before he could finish. The pounding in my head intensified. I'd deal with Aiden and Evanthe later. Right now, I had a more pressing concern.

Isolde.

She'd had the night to calm down. Surely she'd realized that her talk of leaving the Moon Alliance Program was just emotional nonsense. My mate wasn't going anywhere.

I dragged myself to my feet, ignoring the stench of whiskey clinging to my clothes. The security personnel nodded respectfully as I strode to the private elevator that would take me directly to my penthouse. I didn't acknowledge them beyond a cold glance.

The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped into my living room. It was quiet. Too quiet.

"Isolde?" I called out, making my way toward the bedroom.

I found her sitting on the couch by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the cityscape. She looked terrible—face pale, eyes swollen and red-rimmed. Her usual vibrant scent was muted with exhaustion and misery.

Something inside my chest constricted painfully at the sight of her. I approached cautiously, as if she were a wounded animal that might bolt.

"Isolde," I said softly.

She didn't startle or turn. Instead, she spoke in a flat, emotionless voice that chilled me more than any screaming could have.

"I want to leave the Silver Moon."

The pain in my chest sharpened, making it difficult to breathe. Prime roared in my head, the sound nearly deafening.

*NEVER! SHE IS OURS!*

"You're not leaving," I said, my voice hard.

She finally turned to face me, her beautiful features set in determination. "I am."

Isolde stood and tried to walk past me toward the door. My hand shot out almost instinctively, gripping her arm. Her eyes met mine—no sign of submission, only anger and a flash of fear that made my stomach twist.

"I can't let that happen," I said, my voice dropping lower.

"Yes, you can!" she snapped, trying to wrench her arm free. "Let go of me!"

Her struggled against my grip, but the difference in our strength made her efforts futile. I held her firmly, careful not to bruise but unwilling to release her.

"I said no." My words were final, absolute.

Isolde's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling. "Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Please, just let me go."

That broken plea nearly undid me. I felt Prime scratching at the surface of my consciousness, desperate to mark her, to claim her in the most primal way possible. To ensure she could never leave us.

*Mark her NOW,* Prime demanded. *She'll be ours forever.*

I fought back the urge. Marking her while she was trying to leave would be unforgivable, even for me.

"Come with me," I said, my voice low with barely controlled emotion.

I pulled her toward the private elevator, ignoring her resistance. She stumbled along beside me, no match for my strength but still defiant in her posture.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded as the elevator doors closed behind us.

I didn't answer, just pressed the button for a lower floor—one Isolde had never visited before. One where I could make her understand that leaving was not an option.

*She'll never forgive you for this,* a small voice in the back of my mind warned.

I pushed it away. Better to have her hate me than to lose her completely. Time would heal her anger, but nothing would heal me if she left.

As the elevator descended, I kept my grip on her arm, feeling her pulse race beneath my fingers. The scent of her fear and anger filled the small space, making Prime growl with displeasure.

*Our mate should never fear us,* he insisted.

But it was too late for that. I'd already crossed lines I'd promised myself I never would. What was one more, if it kept her with me?

The elevator slowed, and I steeled myself for what would come next. I'd make her understand, whatever it took. Isolde belonged to me, and I would never, ever let her go.