Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 37

**Ezra's POV**

 

I stood motionless in my top-floor office, replaying the scene from the training arena in my mind. The memory of Isolde's body beneath mine as I pinned her to the mat sent a rush of heat through my veins.

 

Her pupils had dilated, her breathing shallow and rapid. Even through the layers of our training gear, I'd detected her potent arousal—the unmistakable scent of desire that had nearly shattered my control.

 

I remembered how her thighs had trembled slightly. Each round of sparring had only intensified her response, her movements growing increasingly uncoordinated as primal need overtook her muscle memory. 

 

I'd been dangerously close to doing just that—pinning her to the mat and fucking her before the entire training center. The thought sent another wave of heat southward, and I forced it down with practiced discipline.

 

Without turning from the view, I pressed the intercom button on my desk. "Greta!"

 

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. 

 

The board of directors would be thrilled to know I'd found my Luna, the female who would strengthen my position and eventually bear the heir to Silver Moon Group. The mate bond they'd been pressuring me to establish for years was finally within reach.

 

But I wasn't ready for that commitment again. Not after what happened last time.

 

The frustration was maddening, yet somewhere deep inside, I didn't want these thoughts of her to stop. 

 

"This girl is shaking my resolve," I muttered to myself.

 

The sharp click of high heels in the corridor interrupted my thoughts. I remained facing the window as the door opened.

 

"Alpha Ezra, you wanted to see me," Greta said, her voice carefully modulated to convey both respect and efficiency.

 

"Send me a girl. Now."

 

I sensed Greta's momentary surprise, though she recovered quickly. "As you command, my Alpha."

 

When the door closed behind her, I finally turned from the window.

 

*"Send me a girl."* My own words echoed in my mind, bringing a slight taste of disgust. But this was necessary. I needed to be with another woman—anyone—to stop thinking about Isolde every waking moment.

 

A soft knock interrupted my internal debate. The door opened to reveal a tall, slender Alliance Program girl. Her designer outfit was deliberately provocative, her practiced smile revealing perfect white teeth.

 

"I'm here to serve you, Alpha Ezra. Whatever you desire," she purred, her voice designed to be seductive.

 

Instead, it irritated me, reminding me too much of Evanthe's affected tone. I forced myself to give her an appraising look. This was what I needed—a distraction from Isolde.

 

"You know what to do," I said coldly.

 

First, her silk blouse slipped off her shoulders, revealing a black lace bra that clung tightly to her full, round breasts, her cleavage spilling over the edges.

 

Then her tight pencil skirt slid down her long legs, exposing matching lace panties that hugged her hips and barely covered her pussy.

 

She kicked off her high heels, the click of them hitting the floor echoing faintly, then reached behind to unclasp her bra. It fell away, and her breasts bounced free—high and firm, the nipples already hard and a deep pink against her pale, flawless skin.

 

She hooked her thumbs into her panties and dragged them down her thighs, stepping out of them to stand completely naked before me.

 

Her body was a vision of raw, feminine allure.

 

Her tits were perfect handfuls, the nipples jutting out like they were begging to be sucked or pinched. Her slender waist curved inward, a smooth, flat plane that screamed to be grabbed, leading to wide hips that flared out seductively.

 

Between her legs, her pussy was neatly trimmed, the outer lips plump and smooth, with a slick hint of wetness glistening on the inner folds. She stood with her feet apart, her posture bold and inviting, her thighs parted just enough to show off the pink slit of her cunt.

 

Her ass was round and tight, the kind you’d want to slap and watch jiggle, and her long, toned legs flexed slightly as she shifted her weight, making her breasts sway enticingly.

 

Yet, despite the blatant perfection in front of me, my cock didn’t stir. This sight—tits, ass, and pussy laid bare, all screaming for attention—should’ve had me hard in seconds.

 

But I felt nothing. My mind betrayed me, drifting back to Isolde—her fierce determination, the way her body pressed against mine on the mat, the musky scent of her arousal that had nearly driven me wild. That was what got me going, not this polished, calculated display.

 

"How would you like me to serve you, my Alpha?" she asked, her tone subservient.

 

I disliked people who asked questions. I also disliked this trained subservience.

 

Reluctantly, I stood, the muscles beneath my tailored suit tensing as I approached her. To my surprise, even this scene—one that would have once aroused me instantly—failed to elicit any physical response.

 

As our bodies nearly touched, she looked up expectantly, releasing deliberate pheromones meant to entice me. I raised my right hand, as if to lift her chin, but stopped midway and withdrew it.

 

I couldn't bring myself to touch another woman.

 

I closed my eyes and exhaled deeply, Prime restless within me. Images of Isolde flooded my mind—her determined gaze during training, the straight line of her spine when facing injustice, her focused expression during our match, and the flash of gratitude in her eyes when she realized I'd saved her from a serious head injury.

 

I could no longer lie to myself. *Isolde, my second chance mate, has undoubtedly changed me.*

 

*Finally, you admit it!* Prime roared in triumph.

 

I stepped away from the naked girl, my face turning cold and terrible.

 

"Alpha Ezra, is something wrong?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

 

"Get out," I commanded.

 

When she attempted to speak, I cut her off brutally, my eyes flashing dangerous gold. "NOW!"

 

Sensing mortal danger, she gathered her clothes and fled my office, still naked.

 

Guilt lanced through me, but I pushed it aside as I strode to my custom desk. I picked up the crystal tumbler of whiskey I'd been drinking earlier, the expensive liquor still releasing its potent aroma.

 

With a low growl, I hurled the glass against the marble floor. It shattered spectacularly.