Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 99

Isolde's POV

Evanthe's words echoed in my mind as she walked away with that victorious smile: "Only one of you and me will survive." Her threat hung in the air like a toxic cloud, impossible to ignore.

I watched her retreating figure, her perfect posture and confident stride screaming of someone who believed she'd just struck fear into my heart. She thought she'd intimidated me, that I would cower.

She was wrong.

I should have been terrified. Her threat wasn't empty—she had the power to eliminate me just as she had Ash. Every logical part of my brain should have been screaming to retreat, to find a way out of this deadly game. But strangely, I felt no desire to back down.

Yes, Evanthe was powerful. She was the urban werewolf world's intimidation power plant, generating fear with every calculated smile and veiled threat. She had connections throughout Silver Moon Group, allies in every department, and the ear of executives who could make problems—or people—disappear.

But I wasn't afraid to go to war with her.

*You shouldn't be,* Lyra growled within me. *Your bloodline was never meant to bow to anyone, especially not some woman who climbed to power by clinging to an Alpha.*

The irony wasn't lost on me. I was fighting for a man who probably had no interest in me beyond whatever temporary curiosity I represented. Yet I was determined to stand against Evanthe, if only to prove she wasn't invincible.

"Isolde?"

Thalia's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked down to find my plate empty, having unconsciously finished the gourmet meal while lost in contemplation.

"That look on your face..." Thalia leaned in, keeping her voice low. "Evanthe's last comment... she basically admitted to being involved in Ash's death. Or am I misunderstanding?"

"You understood perfectly," I replied, my voice barely audible as my eyes scanned the room for any potential listening devices. In a place like Silver Moon Tower, you could never be too careful.

My heart ached at the mention of Ash. Just hearing her name brought a fresh wave of pain. I blinked back tears, remembering how just yesterday we'd been talking, two girls thrown into the Alliance Program on the same day. Now she was gone forever.

What secret had she discovered that Evanthe found threatening enough to eliminate her?

"Should we report what she said?" Thalia whispered, glancing around nervously. "Tell Silver Moon executives, or even Ezra himself?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Thalia, do you really think Evanthe would slip up in front of me without having a defense strategy ready? If we report this, she'll deny everything. It will be my word against hers."

I leaned closer. "And who do you think Ezra and the other executives will believe? Me, or their PR director who's been with the company for years?"

Thalia's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Hers, without question."

"Exactly. And after that failed accusation, I'll mysteriously have an 'accident' of my own."

Thalia's fingers drummed anxiously on the table, seemingly recording information. "It's just not right," she muttered. "Ash didn't deserve what happened. Whoever murdered her should be punished, no matter how much power they have in the company!"

"The Moon Goddess will deliver justice when the time is right," I said with more confidence than I felt. "For now, Thalia, stay out of this. It's a dangerous power web, and I don't want you caught in it."

"Be careful, Isolde," Thalia warned. "Evanthe is furious now. She'll use every connection and resource she has in Silver Moon to get rid of you."

"I won't let that happen," I replied firmly. "My father may have given up, but I won't."

I stared toward the elevator where Evanthe had disappeared, recalling her smug expression and arrogant stride. A cold smile formed on my lips. She thought herself untouchable, the queen of her little empire. But I, a descendant of werewolf elite families, would fight the Hawthorne family warrior with everything I had—and I would win. I would show her the truth of what she was: nothing but a power-hungry parasite.

My fingers unconsciously curled into claw-like shapes on the table as my gaze remained fixed on the elevator.

*Let the war begin,* Lyra whispered in my mind. *We were born for this.*

"Excuse me, Blackwood Miss?"

I turned to see a young woman in a Silver Moon uniform standing beside our table, a practiced corporate smile plastered on her face. She immediately began clearing our plates.

"Let me take care of these for you, Miss Blackwood... yes, I must do this... if you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call for me."

I tried to stop her. "That's really not necessary—"

"It's no trouble at all," she insisted, her voice oddly fawning. "If you require any other services, just let me know."

As she hurried away with our dishes, Thalia and I exchanged confused looks.

"That was weird," I said, feeling completely bewildered.

Thalia nodded. "Extremely weird. It's like everyone suddenly turned into different people."

Looking around, I noticed the shift in the atmosphere. No one was glaring at me or whispering behind their hands anymore. In fact, three company executives nodded and smiled in my direction. One even raised his coffee cup in a small salute.

"What the hell is going on?" I muttered, completely lost. "I don't understand this attitude change at all."

Thalia's eyes lit with understanding. "It's because you've been moved to the Privilege Apartments."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It wasn't just any move, Isolde. You were transferred there by Lycan King Ezra's personal order," Thalia explained, keeping her voice low. "That signals to everyone that he has special interest in you."

She gestured subtly around us. "In this predatory werewolf world, anyone who becomes your friend or treats you well might gain his favor. That's why they've suddenly changed their attitude."

I processed this information, then could only laugh bitterly and shake my head.

*Our value changed overnight from trash to treasure, all because of one Alpha's decision,* I thought.

*That's why we can't trust anyone but ourselves,* Lyra responded.

The hypocrisy of this business culture and werewolf society's power games struck me as both ironic and exhausting. Yesterday's enemy was today's friend—not because of any change in character or circumstance, but simply because someone powerful had shown interest.

War had been declared, and I was ready to fight. But in this battlefield of fake smiles and hidden daggers, I would need to watch every step.