Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 81

Ezra's POV

I stood outside the medical center, watching the doors close behind me. My mind was still filled with images of Isolde's bruised face, her split lip, the way she'd winced when the medical staff touched her ribs. Anger coursed through my veins all over again.

*She's our mate and Evanthe dared to hurt her,* Prime growled inside me.

My attention shifted to Orion, who had left Isolde's room abruptly during our conversation. The tight set of his jaw and the rigid line of his shoulders told me everything I needed to know. He was upset—not just about his sister's behavior, but about witnessing my interaction with Isolde.

It didn't take a genius to see that Silver Moon's Security Director had developed feelings for the chestnut-haired warrior. The way he'd rushed to her side when Evanthe attacked her, the concern in his amber eyes as he'd checked her for injuries—it went beyond professional duty.

"Orion," I called, my voice carrying the unmistakable weight of authority.

He turned immediately. "Alpha Ezra."

"I need Evanthe in my office. Now." I kept my tone measured, though Prime snarled for blood within me.

"Of course, Alpha," he agreed without hesitation. "I'll bring her myself."

I nodded curtly and headed toward the private elevator reserved exclusively for my use. As the doors whispered closed, I leaned against the cool metal wall, suddenly aware of the sweat coating my skin. I needed a shower, needed to wash away the grime of the training center and the lingering scent of Isolde's blood.

*She used enhancement drugs,* I thought grimly. Even without a toxicology report, I was certain of it. Her unnatural speed, the dilation of her pupils, the erratic nature of her attacks—all classic signs of illegal performance enhancers. As a high-ranking Gamma and the PR Director of Silver Moon Group, she knew better.

*She tried to permanently scar our mate,* Prime reminded me unnecessarily. *She deserves more than a reprimand.*

Twenty minutes later, I stood behind my glass desk, my eyes fixed on the door as it opened to admit Evanthe Hawthorne. She'd changed from her training clothes into a perfectly tailored suit that screamed corporate power. Her golden hair was styled immaculately, and she'd applied fresh makeup to conceal any evidence of her earlier humiliation.

The sight of her turned my stomach. I could taste bitterness on my tongue.

"Alpha Ezra," she greeted, her voice a study in controlled softness—a stark contrast to the feral creature who had tried to claw out Isolde's eyes mere hours ago.

I rose from my leather chair and moved around the desk, maintaining eye contact with her as I approached. I stopped several feet away, close enough to intimidate but far enough to avoid her cloying perfume.

"What was that?" I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

Evanthe sighed, fingers twisting together nervously. "It wasn't intentional, Alpha Ezra. I just—"

"Don't lie to me." The words came out cold and precise. "Was this about what happened earlier? When I chose to help Isolde with her hair instead of you?"

"Of course not!" she protested, but her eyes betrayed her. A muscle in my jaw tightened.

I said nothing, simply intensifying my Alpha aura until it filled the room like a physical presence, pressing down on her from all sides. She swallowed hard, her professional façade crumbling under the pressure.

"Fine! Yes!" she finally burst out, her voice cracking. "What did you expect, Ezra? I begged you—*begged* you—to pay attention to me again. And what do you do? You invite that debt girl to spend the night with you!"

Tears gathered in her blue eyes, genuine pain etched across her face. "Ever since she came into the Moon Alliance Program, you've been different. Cold. Distant. You're not the Ezra I knew."

I moved back to my desk, leaning against the edge with calculated casualness. I crossed my ankles and slipped my hands into my pockets, studying her as she fell apart before me.

It was suddenly, painfully clear—Evanthe had fallen in love with me. She didn't just want my body or the status of being my Luna. She genuinely believed she had a claim on me, that she deserved exclusivity. This was why she couldn't tolerate seeing me be kind to another woman.

"Evanthe," I said, my voice level. "You will apologize to Isolde for your behavior today. You will admit to using enhancement drugs. And you will do it before the end of tomorrow."

She stared at me in shock, her mouth opening and closing without sound before she finally managed, "I will NOT apologize to that—that debt girl! She's nothing but a common werewolf who was sold to the program to pay off her father's debts!"

I couldn't even muster the energy for a sarcastic smile. Her sheer audacity left me cold.

"You have until tomorrow evening," I repeated. "If you don't comply, there will be serious consequences for both your professional position and your pack status."

"This is absurd!" She stepped forward, her voice rising. "I am Evanthe Hawthorne! My family is one of the most respected Lycan families in Silver Moon Group! I will not soil our reputation by groveling to some nobody!"

"Soil your reputation?" I echoed, my patience wearing dangerously thin. "Trust me, Evanthe, disregarding a direct order from your Alpha will teach you the true meaning of soiling your family's reputation."

"But—"

"I don't lay my hands on women," I cut her off, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "But if you say one more word... Leave. Now."

When she opened her mouth to argue further, something snapped inside me. 

"NOW!" I roared, my Alpha voice reverberating through the room with enough force to make the glass walls tremble.

Evanthe's face drained of color. She bolted from my office like prey fleeing a predator, not even bothering to close the door behind her.