Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 42

**Isolde's POV**

 

My mind kept replaying today's training session with Ezra in excruciating detail.

 

I'd been hyper-aware of every point where our bodies connected—especially when my ass had inadvertently pressed against something hard and substantial between his legs.

 

I'd felt the unmistakable outline of his arousal—impossibly large—pressed firmly against me. The memory alone sent heat rushing to my face and between my thighs.

 

"Earth to Isolde," Nyssa snapped her fingers in front of my face. "See? This is exactly what I'm talking about. You're completely zoned out."

 

Across the training center, I noticed several warriors huddled together, casting curious glances in my direction. Their enhanced werewolf hearing meant they'd probably picked up fragments of our conversation. Great. More fodder for the Silver Moon rumor mill.

 

"I'm fine," I insisted, retying my ponytail with more force than necessary. "Let's go again."

 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Nyssa replied, concern evident in her voice. "You should take a break. Clear your head."

 

"I said I'm fine," I repeated through gritted teeth.

 

But I wasn't fine. I was a mess. Ever since that moment with Ezra, I couldn't think straight. The sheer size of him had shocked me—both terrifying and thrilling in equal measure. I'd never been with a man before, but even I knew that what I'd felt pressed against me was far beyond average proportions.

 

*He's built like a god,* Lyra purred unhelpfully in my mind. *Our mate is magnificent in every way.*

 

*Shut up,* I hissed back silently.

 

"Isolde, seriously, what's going on?" Nyssa pressed. "You've been performing at elite levels for weeks. Then suddenly today, you're fighting like you've never thrown a punch before."

 

I sighed, knowing I couldn't share the real reason for my distraction. What would I say? *Sorry, but I can't focus because I'm obsessing over our CEO's enormous cock?*

 

"I'm just tired," I lied. "Didn't sleep well."

 

Nyssa looked unconvinced but mercifully dropped the subject. "Training's over for you today. Go get some rest."

 

I nodded gratefully and headed for the showers.

 

---

 

When I pushed open the door to our luxury apartment, my body ached from head to toe—not from effective training but from repeatedly hitting the mat in all the wrong ways. All I wanted was a hot shower and some peace and quiet to sort through my jumbled thoughts.

 

What I found instead was Evanthe Hawthorne perched regally on my bed, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, her fingers idly tracing the edge of Ezra's custom suit jacket that lay beside her.

 

My heart nearly stopped.

 

"Evanthe!" I gasped, instinctively backing toward the door.

 

She lifted her chin, red lips curving into a cold smile. "The one and only."

 

The Public Relations Director looked like she'd stepped straight off a fashion runway in her Prada suit, not a hair out of place, her makeup flawless. The blood-red of her lipstick matched her perfectly manicured nails, which tapped rhythmically against Ezra's jacket.

 

I squared my shoulders, refusing to be intimidated in my own space. "What are you doing in my room?"

 

Evanthe's smile widened as her gaze dropped deliberately to the jacket beside her, then returned to meet mine. Her eyes held a dangerous glint that made my skin crawl.

 

"I think you know exactly why I'm here," she replied, her voice silky with menace.

 

"If you're here about last night, you don't need to worry," I stated firmly, meeting her gaze directly. "Nothing happened between Ezra and me."

 

"Perhaps you didn't fuck him," she conceded, rising gracefully from mine, "but you certainly caught his attention. You shouldn't have done that."

 

"I didn't approach him," I defended, frustration creeping into my voice. "If anything, I've been actively avoiding him, but he still—"

 

"That's precisely what I want to know!" she interrupted, taking a step closer. Her perfume invaded my space, expensive and cloying. "Even without trying, what is it about you that has Silver Moon's CEO, the Lycan King himself, so fascinated?"

 

She studied me with clinical detachment, as if I were some rare specimen under a microscope. Her slender fingers reached out, sharp nails lightly trailing across my cheek.

 

"Is it this pretty face of yours?" she asked, voice dangerously soft. "This little face he can't resist? Perhaps I should leave a few scars on it, make him sick at the sight of you."

 

Without warning, she gripped my chin, forcing me to look directly into her cold blue eyes. "You've been secretly approaching him. Doing something none of us know about to attract him."

 

"No, I haven't!" I spat back, anger building within me.

 

"Don't lie to me, Isolde!" she hissed.

 

"I'm not lying," I countered, fury replacing fear. "I'm sick of your baseless accusations!"

 

To my surprise, Evanthe's expression shifted. She released my face and let out a sharp, shrill laugh.

 

"My brother Orion was right about you," she remarked, something like appreciation flickering in her eyes. "You do have some fire in you."

 

She moved closer again, raising her hand once more. I jerked my face away before she could touch me.

 

"Don't touch me," I said firmly.

 

Evanthe arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, slowly lowering her hand.

 

"I don't care what tricks you've used," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "but you need to make sure Ezra loses interest in you. If this... whatever it is... progresses further... if his interest deepens... if you try to stand between me and becoming his Luna... I will destroy you, and no one will stand up for you. I am a Hawthorne. My brother is the Security Director. I will get what I want, no matter the cost. If I were you, I'd take this warning very seriously."

 

With a final contemptuous pat to my cheek, she glided out of our apartment, leaving me rooted to the spot, equal parts terrified and furious.

 

I stared at Ezra's jacket still lying on my bed, the tangible proof of his unexpected attention. How could I make him lose interest? And more troublingly...

 

*Did I even want him to stop?*