Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 21

*I can't do this.*

 

The thought crystallized into action before I could stop myself. I shot to my feet so suddenly that Gregory had to lean back to avoid collision.

 

"I need to use the bathroom," I said quickly, already stepping away from him.

 

But Gregory was faster than I'd anticipated. His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, his fingers tightening like a vise around my arm.

 

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice had lost all pretense of charm, becoming cold and commanding.

 

"I just need—"

 

"You need to sit back down and do your job," he said, yanking me toward him with enough force that I stumbled in the ridiculous heels.

 

"Let go of me," I said, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened.

 

"Listen carefully, sweetheart," Gregory said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You don't get to run away. You don't get to play coy. You're here to provide a service."

 

He pulled me down onto his lap before I could resist, his arm wrapping around my waist like a steel band to keep me in place. I could feel his hard dick pressing against me through his pants, and nausea rolled through my stomach.

 

"That's better," he said, his free hand immediately going to my thigh.

 

"Please," I whispered, hating how small and broken my voice sounded. "I don't want—"

 

"What you want is irrelevant," he cut me off, his hand sliding higher up my leg.

 

His fingers found the edge of my underwear, and I felt something inside me shatter completely.

 

*This is really happening. This is actually happening.*

 

"Now," Gregory continued, his lips brushing against my ear in a way that made my skin crawl, "my office is just down the hall. We can go there now, or I can take what I want right here in front of everyone. Your choice."

 

His hand was moving again, sliding upward, when a voice cut through the noise of the room like a blade.

 

"Take your hands off her. Now."

 

Gregory's hand stopped moving, and I felt his body tense beneath me. Slowly, we both turned to see Orion standing behind us, his expression thunderous.

 

"Excuse me?" Gregory said, his voice taking on the tone of someone used to being in charge. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

 

"Orion Hawthorne, Head of Security," Orion replied, his voice deadly calm. "And I said take your hands off her."

 

"This is a private matter between myself and the young lady," Gregory said, his arm tightening around my waist possessively. "I suggest you mind your own business."

 

"Miss Blackwood's safety is my business," Orion said, taking a step closer. "Release her immediately."

 

Something in his tone must have penetrated Gregory's arrogance because the man's grip loosened slightly. But he didn't let me go.

 

Then Orion took another step forward, and something in his posture—the way he held himself, the promise of violence in his eyes—must have convinced Gregory that this wasn't a fight he wanted.

 

"Fine," Gregory said, his arms falling away from me. "There are plenty of other girls here anyway."

 

I scrambled off his lap as quickly as my shaking legs would allow, nearly falling in the process. Orion was there immediately, his hand steadying me as I struggled to find my balance.

 

"Are you hurt?" he asked quietly, his eyes scanning my face and body for signs of injury.

 

I shook my head, not trusting my voice to work properly.

 

"Come on," he said softly, his hand gentle on my elbow. "Let's get you out of here."

 

I pulled the jacket tighter around me, grateful for the coverage it provided. The silk top that had felt so revealing before now seemed almost obscene, and I was acutely aware of how much skin I was showing.

 

Orion guided me toward the exit, his body positioned protectively between me and the rest of the room. I could feel eyes on us as we passed—other Alliance girls looking curious, executives looking annoyed at having their entertainment interrupted.

 

 

And in the corner where I'd first tried to hide, Sybilla watched us leave with an expression of pure fury.

 

 

 

The corridor outside the lounge was blessedly quiet, and I finally felt like I could breathe again. My legs were still shaking, and without the adrenaline to keep me upright, I had to lean against the wall for support.

 

 

"Are you okay?" Orion asked again, his voice gentle.

 

 

"No," I said honestly. "I'm really not okay."

 

My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, the sound embarrassingly obvious. I hadn't eaten since lunch, thanks to the fucking service.

 

"Was that your stomach protesting?" Orion asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

 

I didn't answer, my cheeks warming with embarrassment.

 

"You haven't had dinner?" he pressed.

 

"No. I haven't got the chance."

 

"Come," he said decisively. "I'll take you somewhere to eat."

 

We had reached a sleek black SUV parked in an executive lane. Orion turned to me, his expression confident.

 

"That's really not necessary," I protested. "I can just return to the residence—"

 

"No," he cut me off firmly. "As Security Director of Silver Moon Group, I cannot allow one of our Alliance members to go hungry. It's a matter of your wellbeing, especially given your active participation in combat training."

 

"The company cafeteria is probably closing up by now."

 

"There are plenty of excellent restaurants downtown. I know a good place that serves late."

 

I shook my head. "Alliance Program rules state we can't leave the corporate grounds after ten o'clock."

 

"Isolde, I am the Security Director of Silver Moon Group. Some rules can be... flexible when necessary. And you're with me—there won't be any issues."

 

He opened the passenger door of his vehicle with a courteous gesture that nonetheless held an air of command. "Please, get in," he said, his voice low and firm.

 

I stared at the open door, suddenly uncertain. This was an unexpected development. On one hand, I was wary of breaking the strict Alliance Program rules. On the other, I was hungry, and refusing the Security Director's direct invitation seemed unwise.

 

I studied his face—the determined set of his jaw, the polite but unyielding posture. His expression made it clear this wasn't truly a request.

 

Carefully, I slid into the passenger seat, the butter-soft leather enveloping me in luxury I hadn't experienced since leaving my father's mansion.

 

As he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, one thought dominated my mind: I prayed the other Alliance girls would never discover this impromptu outing. If they did, my already difficult situation would become unbearable.