Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 337

Isolde's POV

"Did you have fun tonight?" Daryl asked as his sleek sports car pulled up to my villa's entrance.

I smiled and nodded, my heart still warm from the evening we'd shared. "I did. Thank you for tonight, Daryl. I really needed this."

*And I had.*

The past four hours had been exactly what I needed to clear my head. We'd wandered through the city's vibrant nightlife, sampling street food from various vendors, trying our luck at carnival games—and failing miserably at every single one. But what had really made me laugh until my sides hurt was Daryl's razor-sharp commentary about fashion disasters we encountered along the way.

*God, he could be vicious.*

I remembered one particularly brutal observation he'd made about a woman in an ill-fitting designer knockoff: "Honey, just because it has a logo doesn't mean it looks good on you. Some things should come with a warning label."

His wit was merciless, but somehow charming. When I'd teasingly asked him what he'd do if his future mate had no fashion sense, his response had been swift and uncompromising: "She'd have to elevate herself. There's no negotiating on that front."

"That sounds like a dictator, not an equal partner," I'd pointed out.

He'd just grinned. "Don't give the Moon Goddess suggestions."

"I'd do this every weekend if I wasn't afraid Ezra might make me disappear," Daryl said now, breaking me out of my memories.

I laughed despite myself. "You're probably right about that."

His humor was so different from the cold, aloof designer persona he projected professionally. Tonight had shown me a completely different side of him—playful, attentive, genuinely fun to be around.

"We should do this again in a few weeks," I suggested.

"Absolutely." He gave me an exaggerated salute that made me giggle. "Drive safe and text me when you get home, okay?"

"I will. Good night, Daryl."

I stepped out of the car and waited until I heard his engine fade into the distance before punching in my security code. The familiar scent of my villa greeted me as I stepped inside, and I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. The tension I'd been carrying all week seemed to melt away.

*Finally. Time for a hot shower and my bed.*

For the first time in days, I felt genuinely relaxed.

"You're finally home."

The low, magnetic voice from the darkness made a chill race down my spine. I froze, as I watched Ezra rise from the leather sofa in my spacious living room.

"Ezra?" My voice came out shakier than I intended. "What are you doing here?"

*How the hell did he get in?*

"I came to see you," he replied calmly, checking his watch with deliberate casualness. "It's just past midnight."

There was an edge to his tone that made my stomach flip. He was letting me know he'd noticed how late I'd stayed out.

"I don't recall my schedule being any of your business," I shot back coolly.

The words hit their mark. I saw disappointment flicker across his features, and he let out a long, heavy sigh.

*Good. Let him feel disappointed for once.*

I couldn't help the vindictive satisfaction that crept through me. But even as I thought it, part of me hated how much it hurt to see that look in his eyes.

I walked into the living room to face him properly. There was no point in running—I'd learned that lesson. Besides, deep down, I wanted to know why he was here.

*Damn it. Even now, seeing him makes something flutter in my chest.*

"Where's Holden?" I asked, needing to fill the suffocating silence.

"Out with friends."

The tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel his gaze traveling over me, taking in my appearance, and it made my cheeks burn. I found myself wondering what he was thinking.

*Does he think I look good? Is he angry that I went out with Daryl?*

I wanted him to break this crushing silence, to say something—anything—that would give me insight into what was going through his head.

When he finally spoke, his question caught me completely off guard.

"Did you have a good time tonight?"

I blinked, confused by the gentleness in his tone. This wasn't what I'd expected.

"Why don't you cut to the chase?" I said, crossing my arms. "I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

But Ezra stepped closer, his gray eyes intense and focused, making my heart race despite my best efforts to stay detached.

*Fuck.*

The mate bond was impossible to fight. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't truly hate him. And right now, with Lillian living under his roof, sharing his space, I wanted him to feel the sting of rejection. I wanted him to understand what it was like to be pushed aside.

But seeing him here, in my space, brought all my carefully constructed walls crashing down. I was vulnerable to him all over again.

*I hate that he has this effect on me. I want to push him away and pull him closer at the same time.*

*And right now, God help me, I want him to touch me.*

"Isolde," he said, his voice dropping to that low, rough tone that made my knees weak. "I don't want to fight with you."

Those words completely melted my defenses.

"You talk like I enjoy fighting with you," I replied, my voice coming out huskier than intended.

He started to say something, then stopped mid-sentence, something primitive and hungry flickering in his eyes.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

Then he was moving, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. His strong arms came around my waist, pulling me against him, and I gasped at the contact. An electric current shot through my entire body, stealing my breath.

When his mouth crashed down on mine in a kiss that was hungry and possessive, my legs nearly gave out beneath me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I melted into him.