Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 293

Isolde's POV

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping with every fiber of my being that when I opened them again, Ezra would vanish like some cruel mirage. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe the stress of everything lately had finally gotten to me and my mind was playing tricks.

*Please, Moon Goddess, let me be hallucinating. Let this be anything except him actually standing here to ruin my night.*

When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Very much real. Very much leaning against that sleek black Bentley like he owned the entire fucking world—which, let's be honest, he probably did.

I exchanged a confused glance with Daryl, whose face had gone slightly pale. Yeah, join the club, buddy. Ezra had that effect on people.

Ezra remained perfectly still, not moving from his position against the car, not saying a word. He just... waited. There was something predatory about his stillness, like a wolf sizing up its prey before the strike.

"Ezra," I said as I took a few steps toward him. I couldn't bring myself to use his title, not here, not in front of Daryl.

Daryl followed behind me, clearly confused but trying to maintain his composure.

"Good evening, Mr. Silverwood," Daryl said with a respectful bow, his voice carefully professional.

Ezra gave him the briefest of nods in acknowledgment, but his gaze immediately returned to me. Those steel-gray eyes traveled slowly from my face down to my toes and back up again, taking in every detail of my appearance with an appreciative—and distinctly possessive—gleam.

"I see you're dressed beautifully tonight," he said, his voice low and rich.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin in what I hoped was a defiant gesture. If he thought he could just show up here and ruin my evening, he had another thing coming. I was fully prepared to have a screaming match with him if necessary.

"Yes," I replied curtly, then added with forced firmness, "Daryl is treating me to dinner."

Ezra straightened from the car and took two steps forward.

My throat constricted as his scent hit me full force.

"What... what... what are you doing here?" I stammered, immediately cursing myself for sounding so flustered.

Ezra's smile widened, and he took another step closer. In the evening light, his eyes seemed to flash with an almost golden gleam that made my breath catch.

My entire body tensed. I couldn't shake this crazy feeling of nervousness, like I was nothing more than a bundle of anxious rambling waiting to happen. When he reached out to touch my hair, my heart simultaneously soared and plummeted.

"Isolde," he said my name like a caress, his voice dropping to that intimate tone that made my stomach flutter. His fingers gently tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear, and my skin practically vibrated where his fingertips brushed against it.

A soft laugh rumbled from his chest, and I knew—*God, I knew*—he could feel my reaction to his touch. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

"Did you really think I'd let you go on a date wearing this dress without seeing you first?" he asked, his eyes holding that dangerous glint again.

I felt completely bewildered. Why would the CEO of Silver Moon Group care about something so trivial? Why was he here, interrupting my evening, acting like...

"Isolde, you look absolutely stunning tonight," he continued, his voice rich with unmistakable possession. "That dress should be grateful you're wearing it."

His thumb traced across my cheek three times before he dropped his hand, the gesture so intimate and claiming that I felt heat bloom where he'd touched me. A blush spread across my face, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

*God, he's so fucking sexy,* I thought despite myself.

*Look at you, melting at his touch,* Lyra teased.

"Well," Ezra said, glancing toward Daryl who stood a few feet behind me, "I don't want to be selfish and take up any more of your time." But there was a warning in his eyes as he looked at the other man, a clear message that said *be careful with what's mine*.

I felt sorry for Daryl. He must feel so disrespected, so awkward. If he decided he didn't want to take me out anymore, I would completely understand.

"I assume this is the car you'll be leaving in, Daryl?" Ezra asked, his voice carrying that unmistakable tone of authority that brooked no argument.

"Yes, Mr. Silverwood," Daryl replied calmly, though I could see the tension in his posture.

*Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed.* This was not how I'd envisioned my evening going.

"Good," Ezra said with a slight edge of sarcasm. "Please allow me to play the gentleman for a moment."

I thought my brain was going to fall out of my skull.

Ezra walked over to the car—the same one he'd been leaning against—and opened the passenger door with fluid grace, gesturing for me to get in with an elegant but unmistakably commanding motion.

I turned to look at Daryl, who nodded with obvious resignation in his eyes. There was really no other choice, was there?

I turned back to look at the *completely insane Lycan King* and frowned at him like an angry bear before stalking over to the car and sliding into the passenger seat, my dress rustling softly against the leather interior.

"I hope you have a wonderful evening," Ezra said, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that sent shivers down my spine.

I almost rolled my eyes at him. *Wonderful evening?* He'd already ruined everything. This was exactly why I sometimes hated him—when he wanted to be infuriating and insufferable, he really knew how to commit to it.

*You love his attention and you know it,* Lyra laughed in my mind.

"Could you close the door already?" I snapped, my voice sharp with frustration.

Before closing the door, Ezra looked directly at me, completely ignoring Daryl's presence, and blew me three deliberate kisses. Three. Fucking. Kisses. Right in front of my date.

*I swear this is the worst night of my life!* I thought furiously.

*Your Alpha is absolutely hilarious,* Lyra burst into laughter. *He's declaring ownership.*

The door finally closed with a soft click, leaving me sitting in the passenger seat, my heart pounding with a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and something that felt dangerously close to affection.

Damn him. Damn Ezra Silverwood and his arrogant, possessive, completely maddening behavior. And damn my traitorous heart for responding to every single second of it.