Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 283

Ezra's POV

The private hospital parking garage felt like a tomb as I stepped out of my car, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across the concrete walls. Nathaniel's familiar figure straightened from where he'd been leaning against his vehicle, relief flooding his features.

"Thank the Moon Goddess you're finally here," he said, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion.

I locked my car with more force than necessary, the electronic beep echoing in the underground space. The decision to use the private entrance wasn't about convenience—it was about survival. As CEO of Silver Moon Group and Alpha of the most powerful pack in the city, every move I made was scrutinized, analyzed, dissected by employees and pack members alike. The last thing I needed was rumors spreading about my frequent hospital visits, questions about my personal life becoming gossip.

"Is she calmed down yet?" I asked as we walked toward the private elevator.

Nathaniel's jaw tightened. "She's not crying hysterically or refusing to see people anymore, except for you. But now she just stares at the hospital wall with this empty look, tears streaming down her face constantly. Every time someone opens the door, she flinches like she's expecting to be hit."

We stepped into the elevator, and I pressed the button for the private wing. The enclosed space suddenly felt suffocating.

"I think she's developed some form of PTSD," Nathaniel continued, his clinical tone not quite masking his concern.

"PTSD?"

Nathaniel nodded grimly. "She's silent most of the time, only feels safe when you're around. When you leave for too long, she cries. The smallest sounds, the slightest movements make her recoil in terror."

I absorbed this information. "She's been through something terrible. We need to know what happened to her."

I knew I had to get Lillian to tell us about the past five years, but she seemed too fragile, too terrified. The trauma was written in every line of her body, every fearful glance. How could I push her when she was already shattered?

"What about Orion?" I asked, needing to focus on something concrete.

"Orion is the least enthusiastic about Lillian's return," Nathaniel said carefully. "He still questions her identity. Won't accept her unless he's one hundred percent certain she's not an impostor or after something. And..." He paused. "He's on Isolde's side."

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

"When did this become about taking sides?" I muttered.

"Then let him be. We'll handle Lillian's situation ourselves," I decided.

"Of course, Alpha."

The elevator dinged softly as we reached our floor. The doors slid open to reveal the sterile hallway of the private wing.

"Wait here," I told Nathaniel. "I need to see her alone."

He nodded, stepping aside as I walked down the corridor toward Lillian's room. My footsteps were measured, controlled, but inside, my thoughts were chaos. Every step took me further from Isolde and deeper into a past I'd thought was buried.

I pushed open the door to Lillian's room and stepped inside. She was sitting up in bed, but the moment she saw me, her entire body went rigid. Her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that bordered on desperation, as if she was afraid that if she looked away, I might disappear.

"Alpha Ezra," she said, her voice carrying a note of surprise.

"Lillian." I forced my lips into what I hoped resembled a smile. "How are you feeling?"

The bruises on her arms and face had healed, thanks to our enhanced werewolf recovery, but the damage to her spirit was written in every hollow line of her features. Her sunken eyes held a fear that made my chest tighten with unfamiliar guilt.

"You said you'd come back, but you didn't," she said, her voice soft but carrying an accusation that cut deeper than any blade.

The guilt hit me like a double-edged dagger straight through my heart. I moved to sit in the chair beside her bed.

"Where did you go?" she asked.

My mind immediately flashed to last night and this morning—leaving the hospital and going to my penthouse to clear my head, getting the call about Isolde at the nightclub under my territory, bringing her back to the villa, our heated argument, telling her about Lillian's return. Then this morning, unable to stay away from her any longer, going to see her only to overhear her talking about giving up on me.

The scent connection, the mate bond pulling me toward Isolde like a magnetic force I couldn't resist—wild horses couldn't drag these details from me, not even with a gun to my head.

"I had some group and pack business to handle," I lied smoothly. "It took up all my time, so I couldn't make it back to see you."

Lillian's face relaxed slightly, believing my explanation. Her weak smile only intensified the guilt clawing at my insides like a living thing.

"God... I hope I didn't interrupt your work," she said, her voice heavy with regret, her eyes sad and apologetic. "You must have come here because Beta Nathaniel called to tell you about my crying this morning. I'm really sorry if you had to leave work to see me."

Another wave of guilt split my heart in half, leaving it bleeding and raw. *Great job, Ezra. Now you're lying and making her feel guilty for wanting your time.*

"No, of course not," I said quickly. "You're not bothering me. I should be the one apologizing for neglecting you. I should have come back to see you yesterday. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I completely understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

And there it was—that understanding nature that was uniquely Lillian. Five years ago, when we'd first met, I'd been consumed with expanding the company and managing pack affairs. I'd had little time to spend with her, but she'd never complained. She'd always been supportive, encouraging, never demanding more than I could give.

When I thought I'd lost her, I'd been devastated, consumed by grief and self-recrimination. I'd sworn to myself that if the Moon Goddess ever brought her back, I'd treat her better, give her the attention she deserved.

Now she was back, and here I was, falling into the same patterns.