Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 115

Irene's POV

I had always imagined my father as indestructible. A man of stone, steel, fire, and pride, someone who could not be bent or broken by anything or anyone. He was Alpha Rowland, feared across borders, respected even among his rivals. People trembled when his name was spoken, and they bowed when his presence filled a room. He wasn’t just my father—he was the pillar of my entire world, the man I was certain would always stand behind me, no matter how turbulent life became.

But that illusion shattered the moment the news came.

I was sitting in my chamber, staring blankly at the silver-framed mirror, replaying the humiliation Lisa had inflicted on me over and over again in my mind. My ribs still ached from the wounds she had managed to inflict, and my pride had been shredded into something that felt irreparable. I wanted blood. I wanted her lifeless body at my feet so I could remind everyone who I was, who my father had raised me to be.

And then the knock came.

It was sharp, urgent—unlike the polite, calculated rhythm of a servant. Something in that sound made the hair on the back of my neck rise. I turned, already annoyed.

“What is it?” I snapped.

The door cracked open, and one of the guards I recognized as Jaxon stepped inside. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and his throat bobbed as though swallowing words that threatened to choke him.

“Speak,” I ordered coldly, folding my arms.

“My lady…” He faltered, his eyes darting to the floor, his lips trembling. “It’s the Alpha. He—” His voice broke, and I saw his jaw tighten like he was fighting himself not to collapse right in front of me.

My heart thudded. Hard. “What about him?” I demanded.

Jaxon inhaled shakily, then finally forced the words out. “Alpha Rowland is dead.”

The room spun.

I thought I hadn’t heard him right, that maybe my own mind had distorted his words in some cruel way. But the look on his face, the devastation in his tone, told me I had heard him perfectly. My knees wobbled so badly I had to grip the edge of the dresser to stop myself from crashing onto the floor.

“No,” I breathed. “No. That’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” he whispered.

I shook my head violently, refusing to accept the words poisoning the air around me. “You’re lying. You have to be lying. My father is not dead. He cannot be dead. He was preparing to visit Enzo’s pack—he was strong, he had guards with him. There’s no way—”

“They were ambushed,” Jaxon interrupted, his voice tight with restrained grief. “By rogues. He fought bravely, but they… they tore him apart. None of the warriors survived. His body was retrieved just outside the borders.”

The words sliced through me like blades. I staggered back, gripping my chest as though my heart itself was being clawed out. The pain was too real, too consuming, and yet I wanted to deny it. My father, Alpha Rowland, butchered like an animal by rogues? Impossible. He was stronger than them. He was smarter than them. He should have destroyed them, not the other way around.

A sharp cry escaped me before I could stop it. It wasn’t the elegant, composed sound of an Alpha’s daughter—it was raw, unrestrained, animalistic. I screamed, a sound so loud and broken that the glass of the mirror vibrated.

“No! He cannot be dead! He cannot—” My voice cracked as I sank to my knees, clutching at the floor, clawing at the carpet as if I could dig my way into the earth and drag him back from the grave with my bare hands. Tears poured down my face, hot and unrelenting, burning my eyes until the world blurred.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, sobbing so hard my chest felt like it might cave in, until another knock came at the door. This one softer. Hesitant.

“Irene?” Bryan’s voice slipped through the crack.

“Go away!” I shrieked. My voice was hoarse, trembling, filled with rage and despair all at once.

But the door creaked open anyway, and Bryan stepped inside. His face was pale, grief-stricken, but unlike me, he carried himself with that controlled strength he always tried to keep around me. He shut the door behind him and slowly crossed the room.

“I heard,” he said quietly. His eyes softened as they landed on me, broken and drenched in tears.

“Don’t you dare pity me,” I spat through my sobs. “Don’t you dare look at me like that. My father is dead, Bryan. Do you understand what that means? They killed him—those bastards killed him—because of that damned deal with Enzo’s pack. If he hadn’t been trying to secure that alliance, he wouldn’t have gone. He wouldn’t have been out there vulnerable!”

Bryan crouched in front of me, his voice firm but gentle. “Don’t blame yourself. Don’t blame him either. The rogues—”

I slapped my hands over my ears, shaking my head violently. “Don’t you dare defend Enzo! Don’t you dare, Bryan! If my father hadn’t been desperate to make that deal, if he hadn’t been so determined to handle it himself, he would still be alive! Enzo’s name is cursed in my mouth, cursed in my blood. I will never forgive him. Never.”

Bryan hesitated, then reached for my trembling hands, pulling them gently away from my ears. His touch was warm, grounding. “Irene, listen to me. I know you’re hurting. I am too. Your father meant everything to me as well. But you can’t lose yourself in this rage. Right now, the people need you strong. They need to see Alpha Rowland’s daughter standing tall, not broken. They will look to you for guidance, for assurance. Don’t let them see weakness.”

His words only fueled my fury, because weakness was all I felt. “Do you think I care what they need?!” I roared. “My father is dead, Bryan! Dead! And they want me to put on a pretty face and act as though my world hasn’t just been ripped apart? They can all rot! Every last one of them!”

There was a knock at the door again. Another guard stepped in, bowing his head respectfully. “My lady, word of the Alpha’s passing is spreading. People are gathering outside the hall, asking when the proper funeral will be held. They… they wish to offer their condolences.”

My teeth clenched so hard I thought they might shatter. Condolences. That word tasted like ash in my mouth. I didn’t want condolences. I wanted vengeance. I wanted the rogues who had torn him apart to be skinned alive, their blood staining the soil until the earth itself reeked of their punishment.

“Tell them to leave me alone!” I snapped.

The guard shifted nervously. “My lady, they are insistent. They want to honor him—”

“I said leave me alone!” I screamed, my voice raw with anguish. The guard bowed quickly and scurried out.

Bryan stayed crouched in front of me, his hand still gripping mine. He didn’t flinch at my outburst. He didn’t recoil. Instead, he whispered, “Let them mourn him, Irene. They loved him too. He wasn’t just your father—he was their Alpha. Denying them this will only create more chaos.”

Tears blurred my vision again, spilling uncontrollably down my cheeks. My chest rose and fell in rapid, shaky breaths. “I don’t care,” I whispered hoarsely. “I don’t care what they want. All I want is him back. Just him.”

Bryan pulled me into his arms before I could resist, holding me tightly against his chest. I buried my face into his shirt, sobbing until my throat ached and my body trembled violently. He didn’t let go. His embrace was steady, unwavering, even as my tears soaked through his clothes.

“He would want you strong,” Bryan murmured into my hair. “He would want you to carry his legacy, not destroy yourself with grief.”

“I can’t do it without him,” I whispered brokenly.

“Yes, you can,” Bryan insisted, his hand stroking my back gently. “Because you are his daughter. His blood runs in your veins. His fire is your fire. Don’t let it die with him.”

I wanted to scream at him, to push him away, to demand that he stop speaking as though words could heal the gaping wound inside me. But instead, I clung to him desperately, because as much as I hated to admit it, his arms were the only thing keeping me from shattering completely.

Voices murmured outside the hall. People gathering, waiting, whispering. The entire pack would soon know. My father’s name would be spoken with mourning instead of fear. The great Alpha Rowland reduced to a lifeless body, another victim of rogue savagery.

And in that moment, through my grief and rage, a vow formed in my heart. I would make them all pay. Every single one of them. Enzo, his cursed pack, the rogues—they would all bleed for what had been taken from me.

And I would not rest until they did.