Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 105

Third person POV

Enzo threw his head back and burst out laughing, the sound booming through the grand hall like thunder rolling over an open field. His laughter was contagious, loud enough to pull every eye back to him as he took the mic from the stand with practiced ease. His shoulders still shook with mirth, but when he finally steadied his breathing, his smile stretched wide across his face, warm and mischievous all at once.

“All right, Kael,” Enzo said, his deep voice resonating through the hall, “if that is truly your wish, then so be it. Everyone here, listen carefully. I want to make this absolutely clear.”

He paused deliberately, watching as the crowd leaned in, waiting. Kael, standing just a few steps away, was already grinning from ear to ear like a child who had just gotten away with the most outrageous prank.

“I love this stubborn, reckless, never-silent fool right here,” Enzo declared, pointing straight at Kael. His words carried authority, but the humor laced in them made the guests erupt into cheers, laughter, and scattered applause. “And yes, I appreciate all of his hard work—what little there is of it.”

The room broke out in louder laughter. Some clapped, some whistled, and Kael immediately jumped forward, wrapping both arms around Enzo in a wild, unrestrained hug. The force of it made the Alpha stagger a step back, though he didn’t resist. Kael, giddy and overexcited, dug into his pocket and whipped out a small device.

“I recorded that!” Kael shouted into the mic with a victorious grin, holding up the recording device like it was a treasure. “Every word of it, and I’m playing it back whenever he annoys me again!”

The crowd howled at Kael’s antics.

Before he could bask too long in his mischief, Ash smacked the back of Kael’s head with the flat of his palm, the sound sharp enough to cut through the laughter.

“You’re impossible,” Ash muttered, his tone half scolding, half resigned.

“Ow!” Kael yelped, rubbing the sore spot, but his grin never faltered.

Atlas stepped forward from the side, unimpressed. He grabbed Kael by the collar and started dragging him away like an unruly pup who had overstayed his welcome.

“Enough,” Atlas muttered. “You’ve had your fun.”

Kael kicked his feet uselessly as Atlas pulled him toward the edge of the stage, making the crowd laugh harder. Enzo only shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he handed the mic back to Ash.

Ash cleared his throat, straightened his jacket, and spoke in a louder voice, taking back control of the ceremony. “All right, everyone, enough mischief. Let’s move on to the next event. For this segment, the competition shifts. We’ve seen the Alphas show their wit in the quiz challenge, but now we’ll test skill, precision, and focus. The women will take the stage for an archery competition.”

A ripple of excitement ran through the hall. Some of the women clapped enthusiastically, while others exchanged nervous looks.

Down near the front, Bryan leaned slightly toward Irene, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “This is yours. You should go for it. You’re the best shot I know.”

Irene’s lips curved into a small smile, but she didn’t answer. Her sharp eyes remained fixed on the stage, watching the preparations. Bryan knew she was considering it, weighing the risk of exposure against the thrill of winning.

Just as she seemed to make up her mind to step forward, Ash’s voice rang out again.

“The pack representative for this round will be Lisa.”

The hall fell silent for a breath, and then the murmur began, low at first but quickly swelling into a storm of whispers, protests, and doubtful mutters. Guests exchanged looks, some leaning toward each other with disbelief.

“Lisa?”

“Isn’t she just—?”

“Why her?”

Their words buzzed through the crowd like restless insects, growing bolder with each passing second. Irene glanced toward Lisa, whose expression was unreadable as she rose from her place. She walked calmly, her steps measured, as though she hadn’t heard the sting of murmurs slicing through the hall.

The whispers grew louder until Enzo himself stepped forward, raising his hand for silence. His commanding presence alone drew immediate obedience. The murmurs fell into a tense quiet.

“Enough,” Enzo’s voice rang out, firm and sharp. “Everyone here should remember something. In this pack, all are equal. Irrespective of status, irrespective of titles. Every member deserves the same respect and the same opportunity. No exceptions.”

The weight in his tone left no room for argument. The crowd quieted, though a few heads still turned in disbelief. No one dared speak against him, not after his reminder.

Lisa reached the stage, standing tall beside the other competitors. She wore no flashy attire, no outward show of confidence, yet her calm demeanor was louder than any display of arrogance could have been.

The archery targets were brought in, large circular boards marked with concentric rings of white, black, blue, red, and gold. The bows were set on a rack near the platform, sleek weapons strung with fine cords, their arrows glinting under the lights.

Ash stepped forward to explain the rules. “Each competitor will take three shots in the first round. Highest scores advance to the final. Precision, composure, and accuracy are what count here. Good luck.”

The crowd hushed, anticipation building.

The first few competitors stepped up, drawing their bows with varying levels of skill. Some arrows landed close to the center, others barely grazed the target, and one missed entirely, earning a sympathetic murmur from the audience.

When Irene’s turn came, Bryan gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. She strode forward, shoulders straight, her eyes steady. She took the bow, tested its weight, and nocked her arrow with fluid ease.

Her first shot landed in the red ring, her second in the gold. The third, after a deep breath, sank neatly into the inner circle of gold, a near-perfect shot. The crowd applauded her performance, some openly impressed.

“Excellent form,” Ash remarked under his breath.

Irene returned to her place with silent confidence, though Bryan caught the faintest spark of pride in her eyes.

Another woman followed, one of the visiting Lunas’ personal omega servants. Her hands trembled at first, but once she steadied herself, her arrows flew true. Two landed in the red, one in the gold. Her score placed her above most, drawing surprise from the spectators.

And then Lisa’s turn came.

The murmurs began again, though hushed this time, the audience unsure if Enzo’s warning still lingered in the air. Lisa approached the rack without hesitation, lifted the bow, and tested it in her hands. She drew her first arrow, her posture calm, her breathing controlled.

The release was swift. The arrow cut the air with a hiss and landed dead center in the gold.

The hall gasped in unison.

Lisa didn’t pause. She drew the second arrow, her gaze unwavering. The bowstring thrummed as she released, and the arrow split just beside the first, again in the gold.

“Unbelievable,” someone whispered.

The crowd leaned forward, tension sharp in the air.

For her third shot, Lisa held her stance longer, her arm steady as stone. When she released, the arrow buried itself with such precision it struck against the shaft of the first, nudging it deeper into the board.

The hall erupted.

Cheers, applause, even whistles rang out across the space. The disbelief was gone, replaced with unrestrained awe. Some guests shook their heads, unable to deny what they had witnessed.

Lisa stepped back, calm as ever, as though the eruption of cheers around her barely touched her focus.

When the scores were tallied, Lisa stood far ahead, Irene in third place, and the Luna’s servant in second.

“First place,” Ash announced, his voice cutting through the uproar. “Lisa.”

The hall thundered with applause.

“Second place, Elara, servant of Luna Marisse.”

Another round of applause followed, though smaller.

“And third place, Irene.”

The names echoed through the hall, but the focus remained on Lisa. She had beaten Irene with a fierce margin, her precision unmatched. What had begun with doubt had ended in awe, her skill undeniable.

Bryan glanced toward Irene, but she only smiled faintly, her pride unshaken despite her placement. Her eyes flicked to Lisa, recognition in them, as though silently acknowledging a worthy rival.

And through it all, Enzo stood tall at the podium, his expression unreadable but his gaze sharp, watching as the celebration carried on, the pack united once more under the weight of his words and the display of Lisa’s victory.