Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 87

Isolde's POV

I woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed despite everything that had happened. The memory of Ezra's touch, his proximity, and then his ultimate rejection lingered in my mind. My wolf, Lyra, had been unusually quiet since last night, perhaps as confused as I was about Ezra's hot-and-cold behavior.

The tablet he'd given me pinged with a notification. My heart skipped a beat when I saw his name on the screen.

*Tonight. My quarters. 9 PM.*

That was it. No explanation, no pleasantries. Just a command, as if I were one of his slaves. I stared at the message, reading it over and over. What game was he playing? After last night, after he'd pushed me away only to pull me close again, what did he want?

*He wants us,* Lyra finally spoke up, her voice hopeful.

"I wouldn't be so sure," I muttered, tossing the tablet onto my bed.

But despite my irritation, I found myself counting the hours until nine. I tried to distract myself, but my concentration was shot. By evening, I'd changed outfits three times before settling on a simple black dress that was elegant without looking like I was trying too hard.

At 8:55 PM, I stood outside his door, my heart hammering against my ribs. This was ridiculous. I was acting like a teenager, not a grown woman. I took a deep breath, steeled my nerves, and knocked.

"Enter," came his deep voice from within.

I pushed open the door to find Ezra sitting on the couch, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He looked up at me, his silver-blue eyes unreadable.

"You're punctual," he said, gesturing to the spot beside him. "Sit."

I bit back a retort about not being a dog and took the offered seat, maintaining a careful distance between us.

"Drink?" he offered, already pouring a second glass without waiting for my answer.

"What am I doing here, Ezra?" I asked directly, ignoring the glass he held out.

He set the drink down on the coffee table and leaned back, studying me. "I wanted company."

"Company," I repeated flatly. "And what exactly does that entail?"

A hint of a smile touched his lips. "Conversation. Nothing more."

I blinked, confused. "You called me to your quarters at night for... conversation?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"After last night? Yes, actually, it is." I crossed my arms over my chest. "What are you doing, Ezra? What is this?"

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'm not entirely sure myself."

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a while. He asked about my day, about how I was settling in. I answered mechanically, still trying to figure out his angle. The conversation was stiff, forced, nothing like our heated exchanges or even the rare moments of genuine connection we'd shared.

After an hour of this strange, stilted interaction, his phone buzzed. He checked it, then stood up.

"I have to attend to something," he said, moving toward the door. "You're free to stay if you'd like. Watch TV, read, whatever suits you."

"You're leaving?" I couldn't keep the incredulity from my voice.

"I won't be long."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone in his quarters. I sat there, stunned and confused. What the hell was going on? I paced around the room, trying to make sense of his behavior. The man who'd had me pinned against a wall yesterday, whose desire I'd felt pressing against me, was now treating me like... what? A friend? A pet?

Twenty minutes later, I heard voices in the hallway. Female laughter, light and flirtatious. My wolf's hearing picked up the conversation clearly.

"I've been waiting for your call, Alpha," a woman purred. I couldn't recognize the voice.

"Let's take this to my room," Ezra's voice replied, deeper, huskier than it had been with me.

My heart dropped to my stomach. The bastard had called me here, made me sit through an awkward "conversation," only to dismiss me and bring another woman to his bed? Rage and humiliation burned through me.

*He's testing us,* Lyra growled. *Go in there. Challenge her.*

My hand was on the bedroom door handle before I even realized I'd moved. I was ready to burst in, to confront him, to demand an explanation. But then I stopped. What would that accomplish? It would only show him how much power he had over me, how much I cared.

And did I care? The answer was uncomfortably obvious in the pain lancing through my chest.

I backed away from the door, my hands shaking with anger and hurt. From behind the closed door, I could hear soft murmurs, the rustle of clothing.

"Fuck this," I whispered, turning on my heel.

I stormed out of his quarters, slamming the door behind me with enough force to make the frame rattle.

As I marched back to my own room, tears of frustration threatened to spill, but I refused to let them fall. I was done being a pawn in whatever game Ezra Silverwood was playing. If he thought he could toy with me, make me one of his rotating harem of willing females, he was sorely mistaken.

*We should have confronted him,* Lyra insisted.

"No," I said aloud, my voice firm despite the tremor in it. "That's exactly what he wants. To see us fight over him like animals."

But as I slammed my own door shut and leaned against it, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd done wrong. Why had he seemed so interested only to push me away? Why call me to his quarters just to abandon me for another woman?