Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 28

**Isolde's POV**

The door closed behind me as I stumbled into my apartment. My fingers instinctively traced the tender spots on my neck where Evanthe's manicured nails had dug into my skin. Even with werewolf healing, I could still feel the ghost of her grip.

I leaned against the door and closed my eyes. The momentary darkness brought little relief—Evanthe's face, contorted with rage, immediately appeared in my mind. Her final warning echoed: *"Stay away from Ezra Silverwood, or I will make your life worse than any basement punishment cell ever could."*

I'd faced mean girls before, but Evanthe Hawthorne was something else entirely. As Public Relations Director and sister to the Security Director, she wielded real power. Add her relationship with Ezra, and she became the most dangerous enemy I could have made.

*She fears us*, Lyra whispered. *She senses what we are to him.*

"Shut up," I muttered, refusing to entertain my wolf's delusion about Ezra being our mate.

I sank onto the bed, my body aching from isolation punishment and Evanthe's confrontation. From the bedside drawer, I extracted the framed photograph of my parents and me—the one Sybilla had deliberately destroyed.

This was the first time I'd touched it since Thalia told me she'd found it. The glass was cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading across the image like our broken family.

In the photo, my father's arm wrapped proudly around my shoulders, his smile broad and confident. My mother stood on my other side, her face radiant with happiness. And there I was, maybe seven years old, grinning without a care in the world.

Tears welled in my eyes. Was his smile genuine? Had he already been sleeping with Sybilla's mother by then? Had he already fathered Sybilla while pretending to be devoted to my mother and me?

"Did you ever really love us?" I whispered, tracing the outline of my father's face. "Or was my mother just the appropriate Luna a pack Alpha needed for appearances?"

As I shifted, the photograph slipped from my hands and fell to the floor, landing face down. When I bent to retrieve it, my breath caught. There, on the back of the photo, was handwriting I'd never noticed before—cramped, hurried script that looked like my mother's.

I stared in shock. How had I never seen this? I'd kept this photo for years, but never thought to look at the back.

The writing was difficult to decipher—a series of letters and numbers that made no immediate sense. I squinted, tilting the photo under the lamp, trying different angles to make out the faded ink.

What did it mean? A code? Coordinates?

*This could be important*, Lyra urged, suddenly alert. *This might be a clue your mother left behind.*

Something inside me resonated with that thought. What if this was the last message my mother had left before her disappearance? What if, all these years, I'd been carrying the key to finding her without realizing it?

The door opened, and I instinctively tucked the photograph behind my back. Thalia entered, her face etched with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "That scene with Evanthe was intense."

"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a casual shrug. "Just another day in paradise. I'm getting used to Evanthe's public displays of dominance."

Thalia leaned against the door. "Maybe you should report her. What she did was assault. You could tell Nathaniel or another executive."

I laughed bitterly. "And what would that accomplish? You told me Evanthe is from the Hawthorne family. Her brother is Security Director, and she practically shares a bed with the CEO. Who am I supposed to complain to?"

"I'm worried this will escalate," Thalia replied, sitting beside me. "Today she grabbed your shirt. Tomorrow, who knows?"

"I'll just do what she wants," I said, tasting defeat. "Stay away from Ezra Silverwood."

"And how will you manage that? You train at the Battle Arena where he appears, and he's clearly taken a special interest in you."

"He has not," I protested weakly.

"Isolde," Thalia said with exaggerated patience, "he personally intervened in your punishment. That's not normal CEO behavior."

I sighed. "I'll try to be invisible when he's around. Maybe that will appease Her Highness."

Thalia's gaze shifted to my arms, still awkwardly positioned. "What are you hiding?"

I hesitated, then decided on honesty. I brought the photograph forward.

"It's the only thing I have left of my mother," I explained. "But I just discovered something. Look at the back."

I turned the photo over, showing her the cryptic markings.

"I think my mother might have left me a message before she disappeared. But I can't figure out what it means."

Thalia studied the back intently. "I can't make sense of it either. The writing is too faded in places."

A thought struck me. "You work in the archives. Does Silver Moon have any research center with image enhancement technology?"

Her eyes widened. "They do. I could try to bring this to the tech department, see if they can extract more information."

"Would you?" I asked, hope flaring in my chest. "I know it's asking a lot."

"Of course," she agreed. "Give it to me tomorrow morning before I leave for work."

I nodded gratefully. "Maybe I should call my father. He might know what this means."

The color drained from Thalia's face. "Isolde, no. Alliance girls are strictly forbidden from contacting family members."

"That's bullshit!" I exploded. 

"I know it's ridiculous, but those are Silver Moon's rules."

"Everything here is designed to isolate and control us," I muttered.

"I'm going to shower," Thalia said after a moment of silence. "We can talk more later."

When she disappeared into the bathroom, I stared at the indecipherable writing, frustration building inside me.

*I'll find a way to contact my father*, I decided silently. *I don't care what punishment Greta threatens.*

*Perhaps this is the key to finding your mother*, Lyra whispered, uncharacteristically gentle.

I traced the faded letters with my fingertip, my star-shaped birthmark warming against my shoulder in response to my determination.

"I'll find you, Mom," I whispered. "No matter what it takes."