Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 247

Isolde's POV

"Mom," I whispered, my voice breaking on the single word.

The sound that escaped me was barely human—a wounded animal's cry mixed with twenty years of abandonment and longing. Without thinking, I threw myself forward, wrapping my arms around her in a desperate embrace that felt like coming home and shattering apart all at once.

"Mom, I'm so happy to see you," I sobbed against her shoulder, my words muffled by emotion and her soft sweater.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, stepping back and wiping my eyes with shaking hands. "I didn't mean to... I just... I've missed you so much."

"I know. I know." my mother said, her tone gentle but distant.

Something flickered in her eyes—pain, maybe, or regret—but it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

"There must be so much you want to know now," she said carefully. "Like how you came to be here?"

"You're right," I said, settling onto the edge of the bed since my legs felt unsteady.

"How did you get me out of that place? I was locked in a detention cell in Silver Moon Tower. Their security is supposed to be impenetrable."

My mother sat beside me, but not close enough to touch. "I'm not entirely sure myself. It was... instinctual. I felt your pain, your desperation, like a physical blow to my chest. I was sleeping, and suddenly I was dreaming of you crying out for me."

"And then what happened?" I pressed, leaning forward.

"I felt this power surge through me, unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. The next thing I knew, I was standing in that concrete room with you unconscious on the floor." She paused, studying my face. "I've always suspected I might have some... unusual bloodline. Ancient bloodlines that most werewolves have lost touch with. But I'd never manifested anything like this before."

"Holy shit, what's that skill? Teleport? Could you teach me?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "Everything happened so fast, and using that power... it drained both of us completely. You've been unconscious for three days."

I wanted to ask more about her abilities, about why she'd never tried to contact me before if she had such power, about what else she might be hiding. But before I could voice any of these questions, she stood.

"You should meet them," she said. "My family. They've been worried about you."

The word 'family' hit me like a slap. *Her* family. Not *our* family.

"Your new family," I corrected quietly, as anxiety spiked through me. "Do they... do they mind that I'm here? I don't want to cause problems."

"Of course not," she said, but there was something in her tone that didn't quite convince me. "Come."

*"She's lying,"* Lyra observed as we followed her out of the bedroom. *"Her heartbeat spiked when you asked about them minding."*

As we walked through the hallway, I found myself studying the family photos lining the walls. My mother looked happy in them—genuinely happy in a way I'd rarely seen her when I was a child. She was laughing, embracing strangers, looking like she belonged.

*She found a better family,* I thought bitterly. *One that didn't remind her of Dad's betrayal.*

"I'm confused about something," I said as we approached what sounded like the living room. "You seem... distant. I mean, I know this is overwhelming, but I thought you'd be more excited to see me. Or at least relieved that I'm okay."

She paused at the edge of the hallway. "I am relieved. But Isolde, you have to understand—I've built a life here. A good life. Your sudden appearance complicates things."

Before I could respond to that gut-punch of honesty, she was moving again, leading me into a warm, inviting living room where three people looked up at our entrance.

"Well everyone, we're back," my mother said, her voice taking on a cheerful, practiced tone that hadn't been there when we were alone.

The man who stood to greet us was middle-aged and kind-looking, with graying hair and gentle eyes. He smiled warmly at me, and I caught the scent of purely human—no wolf blood at all.

The two younger people—twins, by the look of them—were another story entirely. They appeared to be in their late teens, and both were staring at me with undisguised suspicion. The girl had long blonde hair and sharp blue eyes that reminded me uncomfortably of Sybilla. The boy shared her coloring but had a stockier build and a more openly hostile expression.

"Isolde," my mother said, "this is my husband, Bruce Rogers, and my children—your half-siblings—Lydia and Holden. They're twins."

"Hello, Mr. Rogers," I said politely, then turned to the twins. "Lydia, Holden... it's nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me stay here."

Bruce's smile widened. "Please, call me Bruce. And don't thank us—family doesn't thank family for having a place to stay. We were all worried sick when your mother brought you here unconscious."

His warmth felt genuine, and some of the tension in my shoulders eased. At least one person in this house seemed happy I was here.

Lydia, however, rolled her eyes dramatically and let out an exaggerated sigh. Holden just continued staring at me with those cold blue eyes, like he was trying to figure out whether I was a threat.

"I'm starving!" Lydia announced rudely, cutting through the awkward silence. "Can we go eat dinner now? I've been waiting forever."

Both my mother and Bruce shot her sharp looks.

"Lydia!" my mother scolded. "Where are your manners?"

But Lydia just shrugged and headed toward what I assumed was the dining room, Holden trailing behind her without a word. His eyes never left me, though, tracking my every movement with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

"I'm sorry," Bruce said, looking embarrassed. "They're not usually like this. I think they're just... adjusting to having a new family member. It's been just the four of us for so long."

"No, I understand," I said quickly, even though their behavior stung. "This is probably as weird for them as it is for me. Maybe even weirder, since they didn't know I existed."

"Of course they knew about you," my mother said, but something in her tone suggested that might not be entirely true. "Come on, let's go eat."

As we made our way to the dining room, I found myself walking beside Bruce, who seemed determined to make me feel welcome.

"Your mother's told us so much about you over the years," he said quietly. "She's missed you terribly."

Lydia and Holden had already seated themselves and started serving themselves from the various dishes laid out. I chose the chair next to Holden, figuring he seemed less actively hostile than his sister, even if his staring was unnerving.