Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 12

Lisa's pov

I sat stiffly in the car, my hands folded neatly in my lap, the hem of my dress still stained with dried blood. The silence between me and the Beta sitting at the far end of the car was thick, but I dared not break it. The movement of the tires over gravel and the faint hum of the engine were the only sounds keeping my thoughts from unravelling.

My eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and I leaned my head softly against the window. Every bump in the road reminded me of the bruises still fresh under my skin, but I didn’t flinch. I had learnt not to. Showing pain only made people push harder.

We finally came to a slow stop.

The door opened, and cool air swept in. I blinked against the fading light of dusk, squinting up at the estate before me.

It was nothing like Alpha Baron’s packhouse.

This one stood tall and silent, its architecture clean and commanding without being boastful. There were no guards yelling, no sneers directed my way. Just quiet. Peaceful.

I didn’t move until I was gently tapped on the arm by the driver.

“You may step out now,” he said in a low tone.

I nodded and stepped out carefully, trying not to limp.

Beta Ash stepped out next and gave a small glance in my direction. His eyes trailed over me, unreadable, then he looked ahead again without a word.

The front doors opened before we reached them. A maid in a soft lavender uniform bowed politely. “Welcome, Beta. And guest.”

Guest.

That word alone made my chest tighten.

Not a prisoner. Not a slave. Not stray.

Guest.

Ash turned slightly to her. “Find a comfortable room. Make sure it’s warm and quiet. And see that she gets cleaned up properly.”

The maid dipped her head. “Right away, Beta.”

My eyes flickered to him for a second before dropping again. I wanted to say thank you, but the words felt lodged in my throat. It had been so long since anyone showed me… basic care.

Ash didn’t wait for a response. He simply walked off into another hallway, his long coat catching in the breeze behind him.

“Come with me,” the maid said kindly, gesturing with a soft smile.

I followed.

My footsteps echoed lightly down the long corridor. Each step was padded with soft rugs, the air scented faintly with herbs and something calming. The walls weren’t adorned with massive portraits or loud declarations of power. Instead, there were simple paintings. Mountain ranges. Wildflowers. A lone moon.

We reached a modest door near the end of the hall.

The maid opened it gently and stepped aside. “Here.”

I walked in slowly.

The room wasn’t massive. But it was clean, and the bed… it had a proper blanket. Not straw. Not a wooden board. A real bed. There was a small table by the window and a stack of fresh towels on a chest.

A lump grew in my throat.

“I’ll run the bath,” the maid said gently.

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

She returned a few minutes later. “You can bathe. Take your time. I’ll bring something light for you to eat.”

I turned to her and murmured, “Thank you.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re welcome. Rest.”

She closed the door behind her.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the bed.

Then slowly—carefully—I walked to the edge and sat down. The mattress dipped under me, warm from sunlight and clean linen.

I lowered my head.

And for the first time in years…

I exhaled without fear.

Warm water clung to my skin as I slipped further into the tub, letting the steam wrap around my shoulders like a delicate shawl. The scent of chamomile and rosemary hung in the air, gentler than anything I’d ever known. My bruises still ached, the deep ones beneath the surface throbbing with every movement, but at least now… I could breathe.

I closed my eyes for a second longer than I meant to, allowing myself the luxury of stillness. The silence wasn’t loud like back in Alpha Baron’s pack—it was soft. Safe.

When I finally stepped out, the towels were thick and warm, and the robe the maid left behind was smooth against my skin. I padded over to the modest bed, slowly slipping into the nightdress she’d left on top of the blanket. Simple. Cotton. But clean. Whole.

A soft knock on the door drew my attention. I stood up quickly out of old habit, then caught myself and sat down just as the door opened.

The maid returned, carrying a small wooden tray with both hands. A folded napkin, a shallow bowl of soup, and a glass of water.

“I hope this is okay,” she said, walking in and placing the tray on the table by the window. “It’s lentil and herbs—something light for now.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

She turned to me with a warm smile. “I’m Calla, by the way. I’ve been working on the estate for four years. Mostly laundry and kitchen, but sometimes I assist guests.”

Guests.

Still not used to that word.

I watched her move gracefully around the small space, pulling out the chair gently for me. “Please, sit. You need to eat something before the medicine.”

My gaze dropped to the tiny bottle she set beside the bowl. Pale green liquid inside. A pain relief tonic. Not the strong kind, but something that would help the burning inside my ribs.

I sat down slowly, settling onto the chair. “You… smuggled this in for me?” I asked, half curious, half cautious.

Calla looked up from adjusting the napkin and chuckled softly. “No. It was sent by Beta Ash himself. Said to make sure you took it after eating.”

My eyes widened a little, and I stared at the bottle again like it might start talking.

“He…” I swallowed. “He sent it?”

Calla nodded, her tone gentle. “He didn’t say much, but he left instructions.”

I looked down at the food. It smelt good. My stomach twisted with hunger, but a small part of me still held back. It was hard to trust. Hard to let go of years of flinching at every kind gesture.

I picked up the spoon, hands shaking slightly. “This is… very kind.”

Calla gave me a motherly smile. “It’s called basic decency. You deserve that, at least.”

I chewed slowly, the warmth from the soup spreading through my chest and stomach. It wasn’t just food—it was relief.

“You can rest here. No one’s going to hurt you,” she said softly while fluffing a pillow and setting it at the head of the bed. “If you need anything, my room is just across the hall. Knock twice.”

I nodded, unable to form any more words. The quiet hum of gratitude buzzed in my chest, too fragile to speak.

She turned to the door but paused. “And don’t worry about Beta Ash. He may look unreadable, but he’s not heartless.”

The door shut behind her gently, leaving behind only the faint scent of the soup and the soothing hum of the night beyond the windows.

I stared down at the tonic and whispered, almost to myself, “Not heartless.”

Then I took the first sip.