Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 333

Isolde's POV

"Good afternoon, Mr. Silverwood," Daryl said, his voice respectful as he noticed Alpha Ezra stepping out of the sleek black sedan.

Ezra's response came in that dangerously low rumble that always made my skin prickle with awareness. "Daryl."

Just his name. Nothing more. But the way he said it—like he was tasting something bitter—told me everything I needed to know. My stomach twisted as I watched Ezra's eyes sweep over the scene, taking in how close Daryl and I were standing, how relaxed our conversation had been.

*Shit.* I could practically feel the tension radiating from Ezra's body even from this distance. If he was this pissed off just seeing us together, he was going to absolutely lose his mind when I told him about our dinner plans.

"Well," I said quickly, turning to Daryl with what I hoped was a natural smile, "I should probably head home and get some rest after today's win."

Daryl's warm brown eyes studied my face for a moment before he nodded. "Of course. Tonight, then?"

"Tonight," I confirmed, ignoring the way Ezra's jaw tightened at my words.

Daryl's smile was absolutely radiant, and fuck if it didn't make me feel like the worst person alive. He was genuinely kind, genuinely interested in spending time with me, and here I was using him to make another man jealous.

*What the hell is wrong with me?*

"I'll see you at six," Daryl said, then nodded politely to Ezra before walking away toward his own car.

I watched him go, guilt churning in my stomach like acid. Daryl deserved better than being caught in the middle of whatever twisted game Ezra and I were playing.

When I finally turned back to face Ezra, he was still standing by his car, his expression stormy.

*Why does he always have to show up right when I'm talking to other men?* I thought irritably. *It's like his wolf can sense when I'm within ten feet of anyone with a Y chromosome.*

"Hey," I said casually, giving him a little wave as I approached.

Apparently, my casual greeting wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"What brings you here?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Taking you home," he said curtly, then turned and walked toward his car without another word.

My eyes widened. He was pissed. Really, truly pissed. And suddenly I felt like I was fifteen years old again, getting caught sneaking out of the house.

I hurried after Ezra, sliding into the backseat beside him. Cade was already behind the wheel, and the moment we were both settled, he pulled away from the curb.

The silence in the car was suffocating. I could feel Ezra's anger like a living thing, coiled and ready to strike. When he reached over and pressed a button, raising the privacy partition between us and Cade, my heart started hammering against my ribs.

*Oh fuck. Here we go.*

The silence stretched between us like a rubber band about to snap. I would rather fight with him than endure this cold war bullshit.

"Tonight, then?" Ezra finally said, his voice deceptively calm.

I felt my pulse quicken. He was jealous. Actually, genuinely jealous.

*Get a grip, Isolde. This is the same man who won't even acknowledge you're his mate.*

But then I remembered Lillian, probably making herself comfortable in Ezra's penthouse right now, and my resolve hardened. If he could play house with his ex, then I could damn well have dinner with a friend.

*Though let's be honest,* I thought with a twinge of guilt, *part of me wants him to be jealous. Part of me wants to punish him for keeping Lillian so close.*

"Yes," I said, lifting my chin and giving him a half-assed smile. "I'm going."

Ezra shifted in his seat, turning to face me fully.

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. He looked like a pissed-off wolf who'd just watched someone steal his favorite bone.

"It's just dinner," I found myself saying, then immediately wanted to kick myself. I was explaining too much. "Nothing formal. We're just going to walk around the city, grab some street food, keep it casual."

*Shut up, Isolde. You're giving him too much information.*

The whole point was to make him jealous, to give him a taste of his own medicine for keeping Lillian around. So why was I trying to reassure him?

"I could take you for dinner," Ezra said, his voice tight. "You don't need to go out with some random guy."

"Daryl's not some random guy," I shot back.

The look of complete shock on Ezra's face was almost comical. Like he couldn't believe I would defend another man to him.

I couldn't help it—I started laughing.

"You should see your face right now," I gasped between giggles. "You look jealous as hell!"

"I won't deny it," Ezra said through gritted teeth. "I am jealous, okay? I don't like you going out with any man at night!"

The honesty in his voice caught me off guard, but it also pissed me off. How dare he act possessive when he wouldn't even commit to our relationship?

"And I don't like you living in the same building as Lillian," I fired back.

The words hit their mark. The anger in Ezra's eyes died instantly, and he pulled back like a snail retreating into its shell. He looked hurt. Actually hurt.

For a moment, I felt bad. Maybe I'd gone too far. We were mates, after all—his pain was my pain, whether I wanted to admit it or not.

"It's strategic," he said quietly. "Having her close. I need to understand why she's really here, what she wants. And I hate every second of it, Isolde. It makes me sick."

His words should have made me feel better, but they didn't. "The fact remains that she's basically your unofficial Luna," I said. "And I don't trust her. She's plotting something, Ezra, and your tolerance of her is going to bite you in the ass."

The car slowed, and I realized we'd reached my apartment building. Perfect timing.

Before Cade could get out to open my door, I grabbed the handle and let myself out.

"Isolde," Ezra called, but I was already standing on the sidewalk.

He started to get out of the car, probably to walk me to the door like some kind of gentleman, but I held up my hand.

"I've got it," I said firmly.

As I walked toward the entrance of my building, my emotions were all over the place.

But I was going to keep pushing his buttons, keep making him face the reality of our situation, until he either stepped up and claimed me properly or let me go completely.

Either way, something had to give. Because this limbo we were living in was slowly killing me.

*And if he wants to play games,* I thought grimly, *then I'll play them better than he ever could.*

The sound of his car pulling away told me he'd gotten the message loud and clear.

Good.