Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 128

Enzo's POV

The ride back from the meeting dragged longer than it should have, the horses restless, the air still heavy with the smell of burnt wood from some village I passed earlier. I had my mind set on only one thing the entire way back—the thought of her. Lisa.

I pictured her standing at the gate waiting like she usually did, that small smile tugging her lips, her hair falling into her face before she brushed it away in that absentminded way she always did. She had this way of making the world feel lighter just by being there. I kept glancing ahead like a fool expecting to see her, but when I reached the gates, she wasn’t there.

That was the first tug inside my chest.

Ash and Kael were trailing behind me, both of them speaking about the meeting, about supplies, about the way one of the elders had raised his voice and how it was unnecessary. I wasn’t listening. My eyes kept darting around the courtyard, then to the path leading toward the gardens. Still no Lisa.

“Enzo,” Ash called. “Did you hear what I said?”

I waved him off. “Later. My head’s pounding.”

Kael looked like he wanted to add something, but I had no patience for him either. My boots hit the stone steps harder than they should have, echoing as we walked inside. The guards at the doors bowed quickly, opening the way, but even inside, my eyes kept searching, my pulse quickening at every turn of the corridor.

No Lisa.

Something was off.

“Both of you, go. I’ll call if I need anything,” I said as we entered the main hall.

Kael frowned. “Are you sure? We still—”

“Yes. Leave.” I didn’t give them time to argue. My tone cut sharp enough, and Ash raised his brows but obeyed, tugging Kael’s arm until they disappeared down the passage.

The moment they were gone, I didn’t waste another second. I slipped up the stairs, quiet, careful not to be followed, not to let anyone guess where I was heading. My boots barely made a sound against the carpet runner, and I moved with the ease of someone who had memorized every corner of this place.

Her door was at the far end of the corridor. Light spilled faintly through the crack beneath it, faint but there. I reached for the handle and eased it open slowly.

She was sitting on her bed, her back against the headboard, her hair loose around her shoulders. A blanket was drawn up over her lap, and her face—God, her face looked pale. She turned when she heard the door creak, and her lips parted in surprise.

“Enzo?”

I leaned against the frame for a second, letting a small grin pull at my lips. “What? No warm welcome today? No rushing to meet me at the gate? You wound me, Lisa.”

Her brows knit together, and she sighed. “I… wasn’t feeling well.”

That tug in my chest twisted deeper. I shut the door behind me, crossing the room before she could say more. I sat on the edge of her bed and leaned closer, letting my hand brush a strand of hair from her face.

“You’re pale,” I murmured. “Why didn’t you send for me?”

“Because you were at the meeting,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to bother you with this.”

I frowned. “You’re never a bother. Not to me.”

She looked down then, her fingers tightening around the blanket as though it were some shield she needed to hold between us. I hated that. I hated the distance, even the small one she tried to keep. So I did the one thing I knew always broke through her walls.

I dropped my voice low, teasing. “What am I going to do if my favorite person doesn’t greet me anymore? Should I start sulking at the gates until you come running?”

Her lips curved just slightly, almost against her will. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” I said, leaning in closer until my forehead nearly touched hers. “But you love that about me.”

Her eyes flicked up, and for a second, I saw it—the way they softened, the way she let herself get pulled into the orbit that always seemed to draw us together whether we wanted it or not.

“I’m serious, Enzo,” she whispered. “I’ve been feeling sick since yesterday. Dizzy. Tired. I didn’t want to faint in front of everyone.”

My hand slipped down to her cheek, my thumb tracing the curve of her skin. “Then let me take care of you.”

“You just got back,” she said.

“And I came back for you,” I shot back without hesitation.

Her lips parted again, but no words came out. The silence stretched between us, heavy and charged, until I shifted onto the bed beside her. She tried to protest, tried to tell me she needed rest, but I wasn’t having it. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her gently against my chest.

Her head fell against me, and I could feel the heat of her skin, the slight unevenness of her breathing. My hand rubbed circles against her arm, slow, patient, until I felt her relax just a little.

“You smell like the night air,” she murmured faintly.

“And you smell like home,” I replied.

She chuckled softly, but the sound faded quickly into silence again. I tilted her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet mine. And then… I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the way the candlelight hit her face, or the way her lips parted just slightly as though daring me. Maybe it was simply that I couldn’t stand being near her and not touching her.

I kissed her.

Slow at first, testing, but when I felt her breath hitch, I deepened it, pouring everything I’d held back since I left into that single moment. She let me, for a heartbeat, for two. Then she pushed gently at my chest.

“Enzo,” she whispered, her voice strained. “We can’t.”

I froze, searching her face.

“Why not?” My voice came out harsher than I intended.

Her eyes darted away, guilt flashing across her expression. “Because… it feels wrong. I don’t want to take advantage of how you feel just because I’m… weak right now.”

I cupped her face, forcing her gaze back to mine. “Lisa. Do you really think this is about weakness? Do you think I would kiss you, hold you, stay up nights thinking of you, if it wasn’t real?”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her hands fisting in the blanket. She didn’t answer right away, but I saw it—how much she wanted to believe me, how much she wanted to let go of the guilt pressing down on her.

I leaned my forehead to hers again, softer this time. “I don’t care if it’s night or day. Sick or not. You’re mine. And I’ll keep proving it until you stop doubting it.”

She closed her eyes, whispering so faintly I almost missed it. “You make it hard to breathe when you say things like that.”

“Good,” I murmured, brushing my lips over her temple. “Then I’m doing it right.”

The night stretched on after that, a slow burn of words and touches, laughter breaking through the heavy silence, whispered confessions tucked between moments where we simply held each other. At some point, she drifted into sleep against me, her breathing evening out, her face soft against my chest.

I lay there wide awake, staring at the faint glow of dawn creeping against the curtains, refusing to move because I didn’t want to let go. But eventually, I knew I had to.

The pack would stir soon, Ash and Kael would come looking, and the last thing I needed was anyone knowing where I’d been all night.

Carefully, painfully, I shifted her back against the pillows, tucking the blanket up to her chin. I brushed one last kiss against her forehead, letting myself linger longer than I should have.

Then, with every ounce of reluctance weighing me down, I slipped out of her room, easing the door shut behind me, and padded back down the corridor toward my own chambers—just another alpha sneaking through shadows, carrying the warmth of a night I would never forget.