Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 15

Lisa's pov

I woke up with a start.

The room was filled with golden light pouring through the wide windows, and it took me a second to register where I was.

Not the cell. Not the cold floor.

Not the smell of damp sweat and pain. I blinked not once but twice.

A bed. A real bed.

Crisp sheets. A blanket that didn’t smell like mould. A pillow that didn’t try to choke me with dust.

And then it hit me. The sun. It was bright. Too bright. Way too bright.

I scrambled up from the bed like it was on fire. My hands were already shaking before my feet hit the floor.

I slept in. I fucking slept in.

I didn’t wake up to scrub the hallway. I didn’t line up with the others. I didn’t stand in formation with a bent head waiting to be insulted.

I didn’t bow to the Alpha.

I didn’t clean boots or wipe vomit or fetch buckets.

I overslept. In a house I barely knew.

Under a roof that belonged to strangers.

Oh no.

Panic choked me as I shoved the blanket off my legs and stood. My knees were still weak from the hell Baron put me through, but I pushed past it.

I was going to die. Okay, maybe not die.

But cells. Definitely cells.

No food for a week. Probably another round of whipping for insubordination.

What was I even thinking? Getting too comfortable on a soft bed like I was one of them?

No. I needed to fix this.

Fast.

I reached for the first thing I saw—a plain cotton gown the maid had left on the corner stool—and threw it over my head. It was wrinkled. Not properly tucked. My hair was a disaster.

I didn’t care. I ran like my life depended on it.

Well, technically it depends on it.

Down the long corridor, my bare feet slapped against the smooth polished floor. My breathing was heavy. My head filled with worst-case scenarios. What if someone had come to knock and I didn’t answer? What if they thought I was being lazy? What if—

Thud.

I slammed into something hard and very much alive.

I stumbled backward, falling on my ass as my heart jumped to my throat.

“I—I'm sorry!” I blurted, not even bothering to look up yet.

A soft laugh broke above me. Deep. Amused.

Then a hand appeared in my vision.

“You good?” the man asked.

I finally looked up, and my breath caught in my throat.

Broad chest. Golden skin. Shirtless and glistening with sweat. Deep brown eyes that sparkled with mischief. Muscles that seemed to have been carved just to remind people of their inadequacy.

This guy… wasn’t a typical werewolf; he looked breathtaking.

He had to be some kind of warrior carved from heaven and arrogance.

“I—uh…” I took the hand awkwardly, letting him pull me up.

He looked even taller from this angle. His scent hit me—earthy, smoky… clean. His lips twitched with a teasing grin.

“You’re the omega Enzo and Ash brought in?”

I nodded, suddenly very aware of how breathless and ridiculous I must’ve looked.

His eyebrow rose slightly. “Were you running from someone? You look like you just escaped a dungeon.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “I—I overslept. And I didn’t greet the Alpha this morning. I didn’t show up like the other omegas probably did, and I wasn’t in the line, and—”

“You think that’ll get you thrown in a cell?”

I looked at him. “Wouldn’t it?”

He stared at me for a second like I had just said the moon was made of cheese.

Then he laughed.

Loud and unfiltered.

“What’s funny?” I asked, shrinking in on myself.

“You,” he said, still chuckling. “That level of fear. Damn. Baron really did a number on you, huh?”

I didn’t answer that. I didn’t even know how to.

He waved his hand. “Go back to your room. Seriously. We don’t do that shit here. No lineup. No head bowing at sunrise. No kneeling to kiss Enzo’s boots.”

I blinked. “But… but he’s the Alpha.”

“Yeah. Of a pack. Not a cult.”

I didn't respond. My legs were trembling slightly from the emotional whiplash.

He noticed. “Relax,” he said, softening his tone. “You're not in Baron’s hellhole anymore. You can breathe here.”

I nodded slowly, still not fully convinced. But something about his tone… It wasn’t mocking. He wasn’t belittling me. Just… amused. Calm.

“What's your name?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He tilted his head. “Atlas.”

“Oh.”

“You heard about me?”

“No,” I replied too fast.

His smile widened. “I’m one of the quadruplets. The handsome one.”

“Right,” I muttered, trying not to smile.

“Well, since you clearly thought you were about to be whipped for oversleeping,” he continued, “maybe take the day to explore. Rest. Eat.”

I looked down at my feet, feeling a little embarrassed now. “I just didn’t want to get in trouble.”

“Trouble doesn’t live here,” he replied easily. “Now go. Before you fall over.”

I turned around slowly, my feet dragging a little slower this time. My heart still raced, but not from panic anymore.

Just confusion.

Why were they being kind?

Why weren’t they treating me like I was disposable?

I entered my room again and shut the door behind me.

Still no yelling.

No curses thrown at me.

No one is dragging me out by the hair.

I sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath.

Maybe Atlas was right.

Maybe trouble really didn’t live here.

Maybe I could breathe.

Just a little.

The door creaked open.

I flinched instinctively, my back hitting the edge of the table as I braced myself.

Here it comes.

The dragging. The yelling. The slap. Maybe something worse this time.

But instead of a growl or the heavy stomp of boots, I heard soft footsteps and the gentle rustle of cloth. My eyes peeked open slowly.

Calla.

She stood at the doorway, arms folded lightly across her chest, not a single whip in sight.

I blinked.

“Oh… are you… here to drag me out?” I asked slowly, voice barely above a whisper. “Am I… getting whipped again?”

She tilted her head to the side like she was watching a confused puppy. “What? No,” she replied, eyebrows lifted in amusement. “I came to help you clean your wounds.”

I stared at her for a moment longer, waiting for the punchline.

She stepped forward anyway, shutting the door behind her gently before walking over to the small tray she’d brought in. “And then we’ll head over to the pack infirmary to get you checked.”

I furrowed my brows. “You’re not… here to beat me?”

That finally earned me a small chuckle.

“No, Lisa. You’re not in Baron’s pack anymore.”

I swallowed hard, glancing down at my arms, which were still marked up with faint bruises. My wolf, Alivia, was doing her best to heal them, but her energy was still so weak. It was like she’d curled up somewhere deep in my soul and was trying to recover from everything too.

Calla began unpacking some bandages and a clean cloth. She moved slowly, like she didn’t want to startle me. As if I were some stray dog unsure if I was about to be fed or kicked.

“I already applied something last night,” I muttered under my breath, unsure if I needed to explain myself. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” she cut in gently. “I gave it to you, remember?”

My cheeks warmed a little.

Right.

“The pain relief,” I said slowly. “Was that… from you?”

She shook her head. “No. Beta Ash asked me to give it to you.”

My lips parted, but no words came out.

He… what?

My heart did a little weird thing. I wasn’t sure if it was confusion or just surprise. I mean… he didn’t owe me anything. He’d already stopped the guard from pushing me earlier. And now this?

“Why would he do that?” I asked more to myself than to her.

Calla just smiled faintly, her fingers dipping the cloth into a small bowl of warm water before gently brushing it over my shoulder.

I winced slightly but didn’t pull away.

“He probably noticed you needed it,” she replied softly.

I didn’t say anything.

I just let her clean the dried blood and soreness away.

It felt strange to be touched like this—without cruelty. Without punishment.

There was no slap waiting at the end. No spit or insult or boot to my face.

Just care.

Just soft hands and warm water and silence.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, eyes glued to the wall behind her.

She didn’t say anything. Just kept tending to my wounds until they were dressed again.

I didn’t know what time it was or if anyone cared that I was late or still here or even alive.

But somehow… that didn’t matter right now.

Because for once, I wasn’t bleeding alone.