Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 65

Isolde's POV

"Fuck," I whispered, leaning against the marble wall as pleasure coursed through me. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to want the man who essentially owned me through my father's debt.

*But he's our mate,* Lyra reminded me, her presence warm and insistent. *Our body knows what we need.*

After my shower, I dressed in the clothes Ezra had provided. The fabric felt expensive against my skin, another reminder of the world I'd been thrust into.

The breakfast waiting for me was equally impressive—fresh fruit, pastries, and coffee prepared exactly how I liked it. How did he know? I wondered as I ate alone at the massive dining table, feeling small in the penthouse's vast space.

When I finished and stepped out of the master bedroom, I was informed that a car was waiting for me downstairs. Of course it was. Everything in Ezra's world ran with perfect, calculated precision.

---

As the black luxury sedan glided through morning traffic, I stared out the window, trying to make sense of the previous night. Everything about my interaction with Ezra Silverwood had defied my expectations.

I'd been prepared to be used and discarded—a sex toy to satisfy the notorious Alpha's appetites before being tossed aside. Instead, he'd been... gentle. Respectful, even. He'd only kissed me, and only after I'd given permission. The memory of his lips against mine sent another wave of heat through my body.

*He wants us,* Lyra purred. *And we want him.*

That was the most confusing part. Despite everything—the debt, my father's betrayal, being forced into the Moon Alliance Program—I found myself craving Ezra's touch. Wanting him to claim me fully.

"This is insane," I muttered to myself, pressing my forehead against the cool window glass.

"Did you say something, Miss Blackwood?" the driver asked politely.

"No, nothing," I replied, straightening in my seat. "Thank you."

Even his staff treated me with respect. Nothing like the cruel thugs I'd expected from what was essentially a sophisticated criminal organization. Silver Moon Group might present itself as a legitimate business empire, but I knew what lurked beneath the surface—a powerful wolf pack controlling vast territories and illegal operations.

---

"We've arrived at your destination, Miss Blackwood," the driver announced as the car pulled up to a sleek modern building.

I looked through the window at the towering structure that housed the Moon Alliance Program—my prison for the foreseeable future. My heart rate accelerated as I anticipated the reception I'd receive from the other girls.

"Thanks a lot for the ride," I said as I prepared to exit.

"You're welcome, Miss Blackwood," he replied with a professional smile. "Mr. Silverwood asked me to ensure you arrived safely."

That small detail caught me off guard. The way everyone at Silver Moon treated me—from the morning staff who'd served breakfast to this driver—showed a level of professionalism I hadn't expected. This wasn't some crude gang operation; it was a sophisticated organization with standards.

I stepped out of the car and immediately felt the weight of hostile stares. The vehicle pulled away, leaving me exposed on the sidewalk as several girls passing by shot venomous glances in my direction.

"She's back," I heard someone whisper loudly enough for me to hear.

I held my head high and walked toward the entrance, feeling their eyes boring into my back. The whispers grew louder as I passed.

"Do you see the designer clothes she has on?" one girl hissed to another. "Do you think she stole from Ezra's wardrobe?"

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to turn around and tell them exactly where they could shove their accusations. But I knew better than to engage. These women were nothing but desperate climbers in wolf society, willing to do anything for a chance to become Luna.

*They're jealous,* Lyra observed with satisfaction. *They know you spent the night with him.*

I was almost at the elevator when a girl stepped directly into my path, blocking my way. I ignored her at first, trying to move around, but she deliberately shifted to stay in front of me.

"Did you have a good time at the penthouse?" she asked with fake sweetness, her eyes gleaming with malice. "How was his performance? Did he make you scream?"

I stopped walking and waited for her to catch up, deciding I'd had enough of the passive-aggressive bullshit. When she reached me, I looked directly into her eyes and let out a derisive laugh.

"Tell me how it felt being with our Alpha," she pressed, her voice dripping with envy disguised as curiosity.

I reached out and casually twirled a strand of her hair between my fingers, watching her stiffen at my touch. Then I leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret.

"You know what? You'll have to wait and see for yourself," I said with mock sympathy. "Though I doubt you'll get the chance. He specifically mentioned not being interested in desperate wolves who can't seem to mind their business."

I finished with a fake smile and added, "If you want a shot with him, you better fix that pathetic attitude of yours."

Her reaction was immediate and visceral. Her body began to tremble with rage, the veins in her neck standing out as her eyes flashed gold—the telltale sign of a wolf struggling to maintain control.

"How dare you!" she sputtered, looking like a volcano about to erupt.

I took a cautious step back, and Lyra instantly went on alert within me, ready to defend if the girl attacked. But I maintained my composure, gave her a wink, and said, "Have a productive day in the program."

As I turned away, I came face to face with my nightmare—Evanthe.

The public relations director stood before me in all her glory, her piercing blue eyes fixed on me with their usual suspicion and hostility. Her golden hair gleamed under the hallway lights, perfectly styled as always, and her custom-tailored suit emphasized her flawless figure. Everything about her screamed power and privilege.

"Evanthe," I acknowledged with a nod, forcing a professional smile to my lips.

I expected the usual wave of intimidation to wash over me, the feeling that had plagued me since my first encounter with Ezra's long-term lover. But something had changed. Standing before her now, I didn't feel the same fear or inadequacy. Instead, I felt... confident. Ready to face whatever challenge or interrogation she had prepared.

Maybe it was the memory of Ezra's lips on mine, or the way he'd looked at me with desire in his eyes—something had shifted. Evanthe might have history with him, but I had something she could never claim: I could be Ezra Silverwood's mate.

I squared my shoulders and met her gaze steadily, prepared for the confrontation that was surely coming. Whatever Evanthe threw at me, I was ready.