Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 261

EZRA'S POV

The mahogany doors to my office exploded open with such force they slammed against the walls, rattling the crystal decanters on my bar cart. Orion and Nathaniel burst through like men fleeing a fire, both clutching tablets to their chests, their faces flushed and breathing labored.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered, not looking up from my own screen. "Did someone die?"

Orion practically sprinted across my office, his usually composed demeanor completely shattered. "This!" He thrust his tablet toward me, the screen trembling in his grip. "What the fuck is this supposed to mean?"

The headline blazed across the screen in bold letters: **THE LYCAN LUNA RETURNS TO THE CITY.**

"I'm reading the same article," I said calmly, my eyes never leaving my monitor. The photograph stared back at me—Isolde, radiant and confident, standing beside what appeared to be her design team. Two years of searching, and she surfaces like this. In a goddamn press release.

Nathaniel began pacing behind my desk, his fingers obsessively adjusting his cufflinks. The nervous habit made tiny clicking sounds that grated against my already frayed nerves. "Sir, the implications of this are—"

"Catastrophic?" I suggested dryly.

"Orion's right to be concerned," Nathaniel continued, ignoring my sarcasm. "If she's really been operating under an assumed identity for two years, building this company..."

I leaned back in my leather chair, watching them both spiral. Under normal circumstances, I'd have been amused by their panic. These were two of the most capable men I knew, reduced to nervous wrecks by a newspaper article. But today, I couldn't summon my usual mockery.

Because seeing Isolde's face again—even in a photograph—had knocked the wind out of me completely.

*She's beautiful,* I thought, studying the image for what had to be the hundredth time since I'd opened the article an hour ago. More beautiful than I remembered, if that was even possible. The camera had captured her mid-laugh, her hair cascading over one shoulder, those incredible blue eyes sparkling with genuine joy.

"The article mentions Liberty Designs," I said. "Apparently our Luna has been quite the entrepreneur."

"LD," Orion said, still breathing hard. "That's what they're calling the company. And according to this, she's not just the founder—she's the chief designer. The one behind all those bestselling pieces that have been taking the fashion world by storm."

Pride swelled in my chest, warm and unexpected. Of course she'd succeeded. Of course she'd built something incredible from nothing. That was Isolde—fierce, determined, brilliant.

But alongside the pride came a hollow ache that settled deep in my bones. She'd done all of this without me. While I'd been turning the city upside down looking for her, she'd been creating, building, thriving. She'd made a life that didn't include me at all.

"When I saw her photo pop up on my screen," Orion continued, "my brain just fucking exploded. I couldn't process it."

I knew the feeling.

"Well?" Orion demanded when I didn't respond immediately. His amber eyes were wild with something between excitement and terror. "What the hell do we do about this?"

I broke my silence finally. "Well..."

"Well what?" he snapped, his patience clearly at its limit.

I turned away from my monitor to face them both. "We should be happy that she's alive and doing well."

Orion stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "That's it? That's your reaction?" His voice pitched higher with disbelief. "Just... happy? This is the woman you've been searching for obsessively for two fucking years!"

"What would you prefer?" I asked mildly. "Should I dispatch an army to the Azurite District immediately? Storm her company offices and drag her back here against her will?"

The suggestion made Orion pause, his fury deflating slightly as the implications sank in. We both knew that approach would be disastrous. It would confirm every terrible thing she believed about me, validate every reason she'd had for running.

"She couldn't be found because she didn't want to be found," I continued. "And now she's chosen to surface. According to the article, she'll be here in a few days for the Fashion Design Competition."

"I..." Orion's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "I haven't finished reading the article yet. When I saw her picture, my brain just—"

"Exploded, yes, you mentioned that. I understand the feeling. I had to physically restrain Prime from shifting and running straight to the Azurite District to find her."

It was true. The moment I'd seen her photograph, my wolf had gone absolutely feral with need. I'd spent twenty minutes in my private bathroom, fighting for control while Prime raged against our skull, demanding we go to our mate immediately.

"But reason has to prevail here," I said, my voice careful and measured. "If I send a team to retrieve her, if I treat her like property to be collected, she'll hate me even more than she already does."

Orion's expression shifted from panic to something like understanding. "What are you thinking?"

I turned back to face them, my mind crystallizing around a plan that had been forming since I'd first laid eyes on that article. "I'm thinking about why she left in the first place. The false accusations. The way my own pack turned against her. Evanthe's persecution. The pregnancy situation." My jaw tightened at the memory. "My own mistakes. The way I tried to control her instead of cherishing her."

The past two years had given me plenty of time to catalog my failures. Every sleepless night, every fruitless search, every moment of her absence had forced me to confront the truth: I'd failed her as a mate, as a protector, as a partner.

"I've spent millions of dollars trying to track her down," I continued. "Not because I wanted to possess her, but because I needed to make things right. Because I couldn't bear the thought of her suffering because of my failures."

Nathaniel, who had been silent throughout this exchange, finally spoke. "What's your plan, Alpha?"

"My plan," I said, returning to my desk and sinking into my chair, "is to wait for her to arrive for the competition. And then I'm going to act like the gentleman I should have been from the beginning. I'm going to court her properly, the way I should have done the first time. I'm going to earn her trust, her respect, her forgiveness. I'm going to prove that I've learned from my mistakes."

I leaned forward, my hands clasped tightly on the desk's surface. "I'm not going to fuck this up again."

The conviction in my voice surprised even me. But it was true. This was my second chance—our second chance—and I wasn't going to waste it.

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "The entire Silver Moon Group's resources are at your disposal, Alpha. Whatever you need to make this work."

"Good." I looked between them, noting how their panic had transformed into something like determination. "Because this time, I'm going to do everything right."