Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 287

ISOLDE'S POV

I shifted in my seat, trying to maintain my composure as the speaker droned on from the podium. This welcome ceremony felt endless, and I could sense Holden's growing restlessness beside me.

"Why do these judges look so serious?" he whispered, leaning close to my ear. "I mean... look at their expressionless faces, listen to how stiff their voices are. They don't have to be this uptight!"

I turned to him with a warning look. "They're the competition judges, Holden. You see those people sitting at that high table? They're responsible for selecting the next fashion design master. You can't expect them to sit there grinning and joking around with us."

He rolled his eyes, but I cut him off before he could respond. "If you keep complaining, I'm not bringing you to the next meeting."

That shut him up immediately. Holden straightened in his chair and fixed his gaze forward, though I could still feel his sullen energy radiating beside me.

*This is exactly why I hate these corporate events—all this endless bullshit and formal posturing,* I thought, fighting back a sigh. I'd hoped today would actually mark the beginning of the real competition, not another round of speeches and ceremony.

*"These human rituals are such a waste of time. All this ceremony when we could be proving our worth through action."* Lyra told me.

I couldn't disagree with her.

Finally, one of the judges stepped forward to the microphone. "The design competition officially begins tomorrow," he announced, his voice carrying across the silent ballroom.

My attention snapped back to the present as he continued. "This ballroom will serve as your workspace. Work spaces have been allocated, and we encourage all participants to familiarize themselves with the venue." He paused, scanning the crowd. "We wish you all the best of luck in the competition. May the best designer win!"

The room erupted in applause, and I joined in automatically, watching as the judges filed out of their seats. Around us, contestants began turning to each other, the air immediately shifting to a mixture of competitive tension and social networking.

*Finally,* I thought, feeling some of my earlier frustration ease.

"Sister, can we leave now?" Holden asked impatiently. "The atmosphere here is so oppressive."

I frowned at him. "No, we can't. We need to go say hello to the other designers, or they'll think we're arrogant. This is important for Liberty Designs' reputation."

"What if they think we're arrogant anyway?" he challenged. "Your design skills speak for themselves."

I stood up, smoothing down my dress. "Holden. Not now. Remember, success is half talent, half networking."

He let out an exaggerated sigh but nodded. "Fine. But you go mingle first—I need some fresh air. The scents are making me uncomfortable."

With that, he turned and headed for the exit, leaving me standing alone.

*He'll never change!* I thought, shaking my head.

I was about to approach a group of designers when a familiar voice called out behind me.

"Isolde!"

I spun around, and my jaw practically dropped to the floor. Standing there, looking effortlessly sophisticated in his tailored suit, was Daryl Fields—the current reigning design master I'd met outside the restaurant just a few days ago.

I could feel Lyra becoming alert within me, her instincts sharpening as she assessed this unexpected encounter.

"Daryl!" I managed, shock evident in my voice. "Hi."

"Hello, Isolde," he said, his formal tone making my cheeks flush. "I hope you had a pleasant weekend."

*Pleasant weekend? More like a nightmare with all the Ezra drama,* I thought, but forced a smile. "Um... I had enough time to rest, that's all."

"Are you alright though?" His brow furrowed with concern. "I tried calling you all day yesterday and couldn't get through. Is everything okay?"

Guilt crashed over me like a wave.

"Oh, Daryl, I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "I've been moving recently and things have been chaotic. My phone died and I completely forgot you were going to contact me. I'm really sorry."

He laughed it off with an easy smile. "No worries. That was yesterday. I'll try calling again today—hopefully it'll go through."

"Oh, it will. Definitely!" I assured him.

"Good then. I'll be waiting for your call. Ethereal is very interested in your designs."

Before I could respond, Daryl leaned in and kissed my cheek—a light, professional gesture that nevertheless left me completely stunned. Then, just like Holden, he headed toward the exit.

I stood frozen in place, my hand unconsciously rising to touch my cheek where his lips had brushed.

But before I could process this further, a sharp whisper cut through the air nearby.

"Did you hear?" a voice said. "Silver Moon Group's CEO Ezra prepared a villa for Isolde. She won't be staying in the apartments prepared for contestants. The favoritism has already begun!"

My blood ran cold. *Damn it! I thought I could live here quietly without any gossip. Turns out this is just the beginning!*

I glanced over to see two young women huddled together, one listening intently as the other continued her vicious commentary.

"I was shocked to discover she's the chief designer of Liberty Designs," the gossiper continued. "I wouldn't be surprised if she has others draw those designs and then claims them as her own. She looks like exactly the type who would do that!"

I quickly looked away before they could notice me watching.

The conversation continued, each word like a knife: "I know, right? If she wins this competition, I won't be surprised at all. She's Silver Moon Group CEO's new flavor of the month. He knows which buttons to push to ensure that happens."

I exhaled slowly, torn between ignoring them and walking away, or confronting them directly. After a moment of internal debate, I chose the latter.

I couldn't let this happen again. Back in the Moon Alliance Program, I'd never stood up to the other girls when they spread rumors about me, and I'd watched those lies take on a life of their own. I wasn't going to make that mistake again.

*I'm not the same Isolde anymore. I'm the chief designer of a fashion company, a talented creator. I have a reputation to protect.*

I'd worked too damn hard to get where I was today, and I wasn't going to let a bunch of ignorant bitches destroy my reputation. If that happened, Liberty Designs would suffer massive losses.

I plastered an elegant smile on my face and began walking toward the group of girls who were so absorbed in their gossip that they hadn't noticed my approach.

*Time to remind them exactly who they're dealing with.*