Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 260

ISOLDE'S POV

My legs felt like jelly as I stepped onto the stage, my mother's hand gently guiding me forward. The introductions seemed to blur together—something about Liberty Designs' founder and chief designer—but all I could focus on was the sea of faces turning toward me, their expressions shifting from polite attention to shock.

*Breathe,* I told myself, forcing my shoulders back. *You've faced worse than a room full of fashion industry professionals.*

But then the whispers started.

"Oh my God!" a woman gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

A man in his fifties leaned forward, squinting. "Isn't that... isn't that Isolde?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. Here it comes.

"The one who disappeared years ago?" another voice chimed in. "Silver Moon Group CEO Ezra's fated mate?"

I nodded slightly, my throat dry as sandpaper.

The same man who'd recognized me first looked like he'd seen a ghost. "This is impossible. You're telling me Isolde has been the creative director behind all those bestselling designs? She's the mysterious designer we've all been dying to meet?"

A ripple of shock moved through the room like a wave. I could feel their eyes dissecting me, trying to reconcile the woman who'd vanished from the werewolf world with the designer whose work they'd been admiring for two years.

"Yes," I said, my voice stronger than I felt. "It's me."

The questions came rapid-fire, but I held up a hand. "I understand this is... unexpected. I don't want to get into the details of why I've been living under an assumed identity these past few years. That's not important right now." I moved toward an empty chair, my heels clicking against the polished floor. "What matters is that everything will remain exactly as it has been."

But a woman near the back of the room shook her head vigorously. "With respect, that's not possible. You're the Lycan King's mate. You're the Luna of the werewolf world. Once Ezra finds out where you are, he'll stop at nothing to get you back!"

A familiar knot formed in my stomach at the mention of his name. Even after all this time, hearing 'Ezra' spoken aloud made my chest tighten with a mixture of longing and resentment.

"I completely understand that concern," I said, settling into my chair with what I hoped looked like confidence. "And I'll handle that situation myself."

As I looked around the room, relief flooded through me. Their faces weren't angry or disappointed—there was pure surprise, yes, some confusion, but underneath it all... admiration. They weren't upset that I was their chief designer. They were in awe.

I could work with that.

"I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you all how honored I've been to work alongside each of you," I began, my voice finding its rhythm. "Liberty Designs has achieved everything it has because of your talent, your dedication, and your tireless efforts. I hope today's revelation won't change any of the relationships we've built." I paused, making eye contact with several team members. "We're colleagues first and foremost, and my greatest wish is to continue working with all of you to achieve even greater success."

I took a breath, feeling the words gain momentum.

"Please, forget about the Lycan King or whatever status I supposedly hold. I want nothing to do with any of that—it's precisely why I chose to leave and hide my identity in the first place. This..." I gestured around the room, at the design boards and fabric samples scattered across the table, "what we do here, this is the life I've chosen. Let's move forward."

Heads nodded around the room. I caught several people exchanging looks of respect, and my heart nearly burst from my chest with pride.

*Look at that,* I thought. *They actually approve. They're not rejecting me.*

It was such a stark contrast to my experiences with my father's pack, where I'd been constantly dismissed and overlooked, or with Ezra's organization, where I'd been treated like a slave rather than a person. This felt... surreal. Like a dream.

Mrs. Smith, a veteran designer in her sixties, cleared her throat and stood. "Miss Blackwood..." Her voice was warm, maternal almost. "I think I speak for many of us when I say we've been anticipating this day for a long time. Now that it's finally here, personally, I couldn't be more impressed that our chief designer is such a capable young woman. I'm thrilled that you've stood by your convictions."

My eyes began to well up, and I had to fight to keep the tears from spilling over.

"I don't know how others feel," Mrs. Smith continued, "but seeing you here today, meeting you in person—it only makes me more determined to give everything I have to this company."

*Fuck,* I thought, blinking rapidly. *Don't cry in front of everyone.*

It was such a heartwarming moment, hearing those words of validation from someone I respected so much.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Smith," I managed, my voice slightly thick with emotion. "Having your approval means more to me than I can express. Thank you." I looked around the room. "Thank you all, for everything you've contributed to LD."

I stood, feeling a surge of determination. "Starting today, there will be no more anonymous designer. I'll be working alongside all of you every day, just like every other member of this team. Together, we can create even more exceptional designs. Thank you."

The response was immediate and warm. "We're looking forward to working with you too, Miss Blackwood."

*Miss Blackwood.*

Something about hearing that name—my real name—spoken with such respect made me feel like I was finally coming home to myself.

"There's one more thing," I said, feeling my mother's expectant gaze from the corner of the room. "About the Fashion King competition. After much persuasion from my mother, I've finally agreed. We're going to enter!"

A young man near the front actually cheered. "That's fucking amazing!"

I couldn't help but grin. "I hope you're all as enthusiastic as he is. We don't have much time—all participants need to arrive at Silver Moon Group headquarters by Saturday. That's three days from now. So let's get everything ready, all our necessary materials and designs. We're going to show those judges exactly what we're capable of."

The room erupted in applause, and I found myself clapping along, my heart racing with excitement rather than nerves for the first time all day.

I glanced at my mother, whose face was glowing with pride, and felt a surge of accomplishment wash over me.

*I can do anything,* I thought. *I can't believe I actually became a successful designer. And now I'm going to compete at Silver Moon Group headquarters, show everyone exactly what I'm worth—including Ezra.*