Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 240

EZRA'S POV

Three days.

Three fucking days, and still no trace of Isolde.

I slumped deeper into the leather chair in my penthouse, staring at the wall of windows that offered a panoramic view of the city I controlled. The same city where my mate had vanished without a trace. My security teams had torn through every floor of Silver Moon Tower, every basement level, every goddamn corner of this building. Nothing.

"I'm going crazy," I muttered aloud, running my hands through my hair for what felt like the thousandth time today. The stubble on my jaw had grown unkempt—I couldn't remember the last time I'd bothered to shave. "I don't know what the hell happened to her."

The uncertainty was eating me alive. Was she taken? Did she escape? The thought of someone hurting her made my blood boil, but the possibility that she'd chosen to leave—that she'd finally had enough of this fucked-up situation—hurt even worse.

"She could already be dead," I whispered, the words tasting like poison on my tongue.

My chest tightened at the admission. If Isolde was gone, if I'd lost her before we even...

If I had marked her, I'd be able to sense her existence. I could ask her where she was through the mind link. But I didn't. I hesitated. I pulled back. I wavered. And now I was being punished for it. She's been taken from me.

The regret was suffocating. All those moments I'd had the chance to claim her properly, to forge the unbreakable bond that would have kept us connected no matter what—and I'd let my past trauma hold me back.

"I lost another mate," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "And this time, it's all my fault."

The weight of that realization threatened to crush me. I hadn't left this penthouse in three days, hadn't attended a single meeting, hadn't done anything but pace and rage and worry. If I lost Isolde completely, if that emptiness swallowed me again...

If I lost Isolde, the grief would take me to a place I couldn't come back from.

*Ezra.*

Prime's voice cut through my spiral of self-destruction, firm but gentle.

*We're not going to lose Isolde.*

"I hope so, Prime," I replied, my voice hoarse. "But you never know... maybe we're destined for a life of sadness and loneliness."

The words felt hollow, defeated. I'd never been this vulnerable, this broken, even after losing my first mate.

*No, we are not!* Prime's voice grew stronger, more insistent. *The security teams you sent out... they're doing everything they can to find her. Stay positive.*

"I'm trying," I whispered, but the words caught in my throat.

*Moping around won't make things better,* Prime continued, his tone shifting to something more pragmatic. *Isolde won't magically appear on your doorstep... And most importantly, you still have a company and a pack to manage.*

The reminder hit me like a slap. My responsibilities—the very things that had always anchored me—now felt like chains dragging me down.

"That's exactly why I want to kill myself right now!" I exploded, surging to my feet. "No matter what I'm going through, I have to fucking stay strong for people I don't even want to deal with right now!"

My hands clenched into fists, the urge to destroy something—anything—burning through my veins.

*You have no choice,* Prime said calmly. *You have duties as both CEO and Lycan King... And the first thing on that list is witnessing Evanthe's execution.*

The execution. I'd almost forgotten.

I checked my watch, the gold hands pointing to an hour that made my stomach tighten. "Evanthe's execution is starting soon. I can't miss it, no matter what. When it's over, I'll come back and continue looking for clues about Isolde."

The thought of facing that crowd, of maintaining my Alpha composure while my world was falling apart inside, made me want to vomit. But Prime was right—I had no choice.

---

The underground battle arena buzzed with tension as I made my entrance. The sound of my footsteps echoed through the space, and conversations died as heads turned in my direction.

"Alpha Ezra," Orion called out, surprise evident in his voice.

I could feel the shock rippling through the crowd. Whispers followed in my wake, mixed with sighs of what might have been relief. They'd probably expected me to be a no-show, given my recent absence from all pack affairs.

My eyes swept the arena, taking in the faces of pack members, business associates, and family representatives. The execution platform stood in the center, stark and unforgiving under the harsh lights.

Then my gaze landed on Aiden Hawthorne.

Evanthe's father sat in the front row, his face a mask of barely controlled anguish. His wife clutched his arm, both of them looking like they'd aged a decade in the past few days. The sight of their raw grief hit me unexpectedly.

*She has to pay the price,* I reminded myself firmly. Evanthe was a threat to my pack, to my company, and especially to Isolde. The evidence had been overwhelming—she'd murdered people, framed innocents, and manipulated everyone around her for her own twisted ambitions.

Evanthe's sobs suddenly pierced through my thoughts, sharp and desperate. I looked up to see her being led to the center of the execution area.

She looked nothing like the polished, confident woman who'd once commanded rooms with her presence. Her hands and feet were shackled with specialized restraints designed for werewolves, and she shuffled forward like a common criminal. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained, her hair a tangled mess around her tear-stained face.

Nathaniel stood beside the platform, clearing his throat. "Do you have any last words?" he asked, his voice carrying clearly through the arena's speakers.

The entire battle arena fell into a deathly silence. Only the low hum of the monitoring equipment broke the oppressive quiet. Every eye was fixed on Evanthe, waiting to see if she would speak.

My own gaze remained locked on her face, watching for any sign of the manipulative woman I'd known. But as the seconds stretched on and she seemed unable to find words, my thoughts drifted back to the one person who should have been here to see justice served.

Where are you, Isolde? Are you safe? Are you even alive?

The questions tormented me as I waited in the suffocating silence, torn between the need to see justice done and the desperate desire to be anywhere else, searching for the woman who'd become my entire world.