Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 35

**Isolde's POV**

 

"Alpha Ezra." I stepped forward. "I don't think Silver Moon Group's CEO should waste valuable time sparring with a novice like me. This seems beneath your position. Perhaps Nyssa or another elite warrior would be a better showcase for your skills?"

 

My fingers twisted anxiously together as I waited for his response, desperately hoping he would reconsider this impromptu challenge.

 

"I appreciate your attempt to change my mind, Isolde." His voice carried dangerous calm, wrapped in undeniable authority. "But I've decided to spar with you. Every warrior in this training center speaks highly of your combat abilities. Even Orion has repeatedly suggested I see for myself if you're as impressive as they claim."

 

I mentally cursed myself. If only I'd been more mediocre during training, I wouldn't have drawn this unwanted attention and wouldn't be standing before the most powerful Alpha in the city, preparing for certain humiliation.

 

"Please." He gestured toward the fighting circle. I shot Orion a reproachful glance.

 

As he rolled up the sleeves of his custom athletic wear to reveal muscled forearms, I felt slightly dizzy. His stance radiated the confidence and power of years of elite training. *Our mate is so powerful,* Lyra whispered in my mind.

 

I adopted a defensive posture, feet planted firmly, hands raised to protect my face. 

 

"You're the attacker, Isolde," he pointed out with a hint of impatience. I swallowed hard and adjusted my stance, fists clenched, left slightly forward in the standard attack position I'd learned in Emerald Valley.

 

When I looked directly into his deep gray eyes searching for weaknesses, an unusual heat spread from my spine outward. Suddenly, my skin became hypersensitive, my breathing quickened, and my nipples tightened painfully against the fabric of my sports bra. The insides of my thighs grew warm and wet as an alien, intense desire swept through me. 

 

*What the fuck? Again?*

 

"Isolde, set aside your fear and attack me. I'm just another opponent, aren't I?" 

 

"You're the Alpha," I responded automatically, my voice raspier than intended. I desperately tried to focus on combat, thanking the Moon Goddess I wore heavy training gear today that concealed my body's abnormal reactions.

 

"And what difference does that make?" His body temporarily relaxed. "Do I look like a monster?"

 

"You look like..." I abruptly cut myself off, fighting against the burning tide within me as I launched an attack toward his ribs. My movements were slower and clumsier than usual, my coordination disrupted. Thanks to years of training, at least my fists still moved in the right direction.

 

He effortlessly caught my wrist, and with one fluid turn, threw me to the ground. When my back hit the training mat, his arm pinned me down, part of his weight hovering above me. I could barely breathe—not from physical pressure, but because his scent completely enveloped me, making more wetness pool between my legs. I could feel it running down my inner thighs and thanked the color and thickness of my training pants for hiding this embarrassing reaction.

 

"Your attack was uncoordinated," he commented, his brow slightly furrowed. "You perform much better during training."

 

"I'm—I'm just nervous," I managed to answer, my voice slightly hoarse as I struggled not to moan beneath him.

 

"Focus, Isolde." He released me, and I immediately rolled away and stood up. My legs could barely support my weight, my underwear completely soaked and clinging to my pussy, making each step torturous.

 

The next nine rounds were an absolute nightmare. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate, whenever my eyes met his, that burning sensation returned, making my movements clumsy and my reactions delayed. I was torn—half wanting to get away from him to maintain my sanity, half wanting to throw myself into his arms. By the end of ten rounds, I was not only thoroughly defeated but also completely soaked, and not just with sweat.

 

"I thought I would perform better," I said quietly, ashamed to look at him, knowing that meeting his gaze would reignite the fire within me.

 

"Your foundational movements are excellent, but your rhythm and focus need significant improvement." His voice remained calm and professional, clearly attributing my unusual performance to insufficient training. "Nevertheless, your persistence is impressive. Most trainees would have surrendered by the fifth or sixth round, but you endured all ten."

 

"What's the point of persisting when each round ends in such complete failure?" I asked bitterly, carefully adjusting my stance to minimize the discomfort from my soaked underwear.

 

"It demonstrates your potential and determination. Obviously, you need more professional guidance." His gaze deepened. "You have a rare talent that simply needs the right training to develop."

 

As he turned to leave the training area, a desperate impulse took over my thinking. Before rational thought could stop me, I was already in motion, my left arm encircling his right, my right hand attempting to leverage the powerful CEO to the ground. *We must prove our worth!* Lyra roared in my mind.

 

Everything happened too quickly. In an instant, the situation reversed, and I found myself spinning through the air, about to crash hard onto the ground. I closed my eyes, bracing for impact, but the expected pain never came. My head landed on something solid yet yielding—Ezra's arm protectively cushioning my head to prevent injury.

 

My eyes flew open, immediately captured by Ezra's eyes. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable and complex.

 

I couldn't help but inhale deeply, his scent instantly filling my senses as my wolf whimpered with pleasure.

 

"Isolde, you really want to throw me down at any cost, don't you?" His voice was low, tinged with an emotion I couldn't interpret.

 

My professional career was probably over.

 

"A girl's got to have ambition, right?" I managed to respond, still stunned by his eyes and the strange connection between us.

 

"Indeed." His lips briefly curled into an almost imperceptible smile.

 

He carefully withdrew his arm from under my head and extended his hand to me. I hesitated, aware that everyone in the training center was watching breathlessly. No one had ever seen Silver Moon's CEO treat a Moon Alliance participant like this.

 

Ezra Silverwood, the ruthless Lycan King, had just protected me from a head injury. If not for his arm, I would certainly have suffered a concussion or worse. This realization confused me deeply.

 

The lesson was indelibly learned: never try to ambush an Alpha, especially this Alpha.

 

As soon as his hand grasped mine, intense heat transferred between us, and I was effortlessly pulled to my feet. Once stable, I immediately released his hand as if shocked, stepping back to try regaining my normal heartbeat.

 

"From now on, anyone wishing to spar with Isolde must receive my direct approval," he announced, his voice calm but carrying undeniable authority.

 

"What? Why?" I asked in shock, unable to comprehend this development.

 

"Because you will be my exclusive training partner."

 

My world suddenly spun on its axis.