Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 75

Isolde's POV

I checked the time—2:15 PM on a Wednesday afternoon. Perfect. The Alliance residence's laundry facilities would be nearly empty now, with most girls either at training sessions or attending their various "charm classes." 

I hefted my laundry basket, filled with Silver Moon-issued training gear and workout clothes. After my disastrous attempt to do laundry last Saturday, I'd learned my lesson: avoid the weekend rush at all costs.

The memory of that humiliating experience still made my blood boil. I'd spent three hours waiting for an available machine, only to have my carefully sorted clothes dumped unceremoniously on the floor when I stepped away for five minutes. By the time I'd finished washing, drying, and folding everything, it was well past midnight.

I hummed a popular tune as I pushed open the door to the laundry room, appreciating the mid-week emptiness. The space was nothing like typical apartment building laundry facilities—instead of dingy lighting and outdated equipment, the Alliance residence offered marble countertops, chrome finishes, and top-of-the-line machines.

To my surprise, one of the high-tech washers was already running. A girl with shoulder-length dark hair sat on a bench nearby. I recognized her immediately—Ashley, though everyone called her Ash. We'd arrived at Silver Moon on the same day, both brought in to settle family debts.

"Ash?" I called softly.

She looked up, her dark eyes widening slightly as she glanced around nervously, as if checking whether we were alone.

"Hi," I offered with a small smile.

"Hello, Isolde," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

I placed my laundry basket in front of the machine next to hers and began sorting my clothes. It seemed strange that we'd barely crossed paths since our arrival, despite living in the same building. Then again, Silver Moon's Alliance residence was designed to keep girls separate when not actively participating in group activities.

"We haven't seen each other since that first day, right?" I asked, trying to make casual conversation.

"That's right," Ash confirmed with a nervous laugh, her fingers fidgeting with the bottle of laundry detergent beside her.

As she reached for something in her basket, I noticed a ring of light bruises encircling her wrist. My eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered quickly, pulling her sleeve down to cover the marks. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem a bit... never mind. I'm probably overthinking things," I said.

*Something's wrong with her,* my wolf insisted. *Those are bruises. Someone hurt her.*

Before I could pursue the conversation further, the laundry room door burst open, and Sybilla's voice rang out sharply.

"ASH! There you are!"

My stepsister stormed in, dressed in designer lounge wear, her face contorted with irritation. To my shock, Ash immediately stood and gave Sybilla a small bow—a gesture of subservience that seemed wildly out of place in our modern world.

Sybilla threw an expensive-looking laundry bag at Ash's feet. "You thought I wouldn't notice you came to do laundry without my Prada and Gucci? Trying to be clever, were you?"

"No, Sybilla," Ash replied, eyes downcast. "That's not it. Your clothes weren't sorted yet, so I just brought mine."

"And it didn't occur to you to come find me so I could sort them before you came down here?" Sybilla's voice dripped with contempt.

"I'm sorry, Sybilla. It won't happen again," Ash murmured.

"It better not," my stepsister snapped. "Don't forget, I'm Alaric Blackwood's daughter, and you're just a nobody werewolf that no one wants."

I felt my hackles rise at the casual cruelty in Sybilla's voice. 

Sybilla upended the laundry bag, spilling designer clothes across the clean floor. "These need hand washing," she commanded, pointing to several delicate items. "Make sure you don't ruin any of them."

"You'll never outsmart me, Ash," Sybilla continued with smug satisfaction. "You thought you could avoid washing my clothes, but I caught you. Now, get them clean and make sure nothing gets damaged. This Valentino cost twenty thousand, understand?"

Ash nodded quickly, already gathering the scattered garments.

Something inside me snapped. "Sybilla, you can't order her to wash your clothes. This isn't right! We're Moon Alliance members, not your servants."

Sybilla turned to me with a mocking smile. "Isolde, why don't you mind your own business? Or are you still bitter about Kieran?"

"Mind my own business?" I repeated incredulously. "How can I when I'm watching this disgusting behavior? How dare you turn another Alliance girl into your personal maid? You have no right!"

"I guess you haven't heard about the hierarchy in Silver Moon," Sybilla replied, examining her perfectly manicured nails. "The wolf world has always been about the strong ruling the weak, even in modern society. She's weak, so I have every right to treat her however I want."

"Weak? We're in the twenty-first century, not some primitive pack!" I protested.

"Are you serious right now? Don't be naive," Sybilla laughed coldly. "I don't care what you think, Isolde. Like I said, mind your own business. Stay out of this unless you want another experience in Greta's punishment room."

She turned back to Ash, her voice hardening. "You—when you've washed, dried, ironed, and folded everything, bring me a Starbucks. If I don't have my caramel macchiato within the hour, you'll be punished, and you know how painful my punishments can be."

With that final threat, Sybilla sauntered out of the laundry room, leaving behind a suffocating silence.

I turned to Ash, who had already begun sorting Sybilla's expensive clothes with practiced efficiency.

"Ash, how long has this been going on?" I asked quietly.

"Since the first night we entered the Moon Alliance Program," she replied without looking up.

"What?" I gasped. "All this time? Have you reported her to Greta or any of the administrators?"

"No."

"Why not?" I pressed, genuinely confused.

Ash finally glanced up, her dark eyes reflecting a resigned acceptance that broke my heart. "Because if I reported her, she'd make my life even more miserable. She'd spread rumors about me on social media, cut off all my connections."

"Why would you think that?"

"She's close with PR Director Evanthe. They're tight. If I don't obey her or if I report her, she'll get Evanthe involved, and you know how vicious Evanthe can be with people she doesn't like." Ash paused, carefully folding a designer blouse. "And... Sybilla's mother does business with my father. If I anger her, my father's company would suffer."

I watched in stunned silence as Ash continued organizing Sybilla's clothes, tears silently streaming down her face.

This was the reality beneath Silver Moon's glossy veneer—ancient wolf hierarchies disguised as corporate structure, the strong preying on the weak while hiding behind modern facades.

I had thought my own treatment was bad, but compared to Ash's situation, I'd been living in paradise. The realization filled me with a burning rage that threatened to consume me from within.

The true face of Silver Moon had been revealed, and I couldn't unsee it.