Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 164

Lisa's POV

I sat cross-legged on Fiona’s bed, staring down at the soft blanket bunched beneath my fingers. My chest still felt tight from all the crying I’d done earlier. My eyes were swollen, and my throat ached, but somehow, being in Fiona’s apartment, in her small and surprisingly cozy space, made me feel a little less like I was falling apart.

Fiona sat beside me, her hand brushing through her hair absentmindedly as if she were trying to gather her thoughts. She had this calm way about her, even when I knew her heart was as restless as mine. For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t heavy, though; it was the kind of silence you sit in when you don’t have to force words to fill the space.

Finally, I shifted, turning to face her. “Can I ask you something?” My voice cracked a little, not because I wanted to cry again, but because the question had been eating at me.

She glanced at me with those soft eyes, the kind that always seemed to understand before you even finished speaking. “Of course. You can ask me anything.”

I hesitated, biting down on my bottom lip. The words felt heavier than I expected. “Why didn’t you… why didn’t you want to keep Ethan’s baby? You loved him, Fiona. I saw the way you looked at him. The way you spoke about him. Even now, when his name comes up, your voice still changes. So why… why didn’t you keep the baby?”

Her eyes flickered, and for a long moment she just stared down at her lap, twisting her fingers together. I thought maybe she wasn’t going to answer, that maybe I’d pushed her into something too raw, too personal. But then she exhaled, long and slow, and leaned back against the headboard.

“You think it’s that simple, Lisa?” she asked softly. “That love is enough? That I could just close my eyes and convince myself everything made sense because I loved him?”

I swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean—”

“No,” she interrupted gently, shaking her head. “I know you didn’t. And you’re right. I did love him. Maybe I still do. But the truth is… I don’t even know how or when that love started. I don’t remember the moment we first kissed. I don’t remember the first time he touched me. I don’t even remember how I ended up in his arms. One day, I just… woke up to it. As if my body had already chosen for me. As if the decision was made without me being there.”

Her words sank into me like stones thrown into water. My brows furrowed, confusion thick in my chest. “What do you mean? You don’t remember? At all?”

She laughed bitterly, and the sound of it cut deeper than any sob could. “Not a thing. I can tell you what his smile looked like. I can tell you the sound of his laugh. I can tell you how his eyes softened when he called my name. But the beginning? The root of it all? Nothing. It’s like someone took a pair of scissors and cut that part of my life out, leaving only fragments of the aftermath. And you know the worst part?”

I shook my head, barely able to breathe.

“The worst part,” Fiona continued, “is that Ethan doesn’t remember either. We both know we loved each other. We both feel it in our bones. But ask us how it started? Ask us how we got here? There’s nothing. Just emptiness. As if we were brainwashed into it. As if someone stole our choices and forced us into a love that should have been ours to build.”

Her voice trembled at the end, and she pressed her hands over her face for a moment. I sat frozen, staring at her. My heart clenched so tight it hurt.

“Fiona…” I whispered, leaning forward. My hands shook as I reached for her arm, brushing gently against her skin. “I didn’t know. I thought you—”

“That I walked away from him willingly? That I didn’t want a family with him because I was cold?” She dropped her hands and looked at me, her eyes glistening. “No, Lisa. It wasn’t like that. It was because I couldn’t bring a child into that confusion, into a bond that wasn’t even ours to claim properly. I couldn’t look at that baby and not wonder if it was real, if what Ethan and I shared was ours, or if it was just something that was written into our blood without asking us.”

The room blurred in my vision. My chest ached with the weight of her confession. Tears stung my eyes again, but this time they weren’t just for me. They were for her too. For everything she lost, for the unfairness of it all.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

She shook her head and gave a watery smile. “Don’t be. You didn’t do this to me. You’ve had your share of pain too. We’re both just… caught in things we can’t control.”

I slid closer, wrapping my arms around her tightly. She stiffened for only a moment before relaxing, resting her head against my shoulder. “You deserved better,” I said quietly. “You both did. You deserved to have the choice. To know what was real and what wasn’t.”

We stayed like that for a while, just breathing. My fingers brushed through her hair slowly, the way I would comfort a child. I didn’t know what else to give her except presence, except proof that she wasn’t alone.

Eventually, she pulled back, wiping her cheeks. Her smile was small, fragile, but it was there. “Thank you, Lisa.”

I nodded. “Anytime.”

A silence settled between us again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It felt like the kind of silence that healed, that gave space for wounds to breathe.

After a while, Fiona sighed and stood. She glanced at the clock, then grabbed her bag from the chair near the door. “I have to head to work. I’ll be back later tonight. Will you be okay here?”

I forced a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Good.” She hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. “Lock the door behind me, alright? And try to rest. You look like you haven’t slept properly in days.”

“I will,” I lied, because I already knew sleep wouldn’t come easy.

She gave me one last look before stepping out. The sound of the door clicking shut left me alone with my thoughts, and the apartment suddenly felt bigger, emptier.

I tried to distract myself, pacing the small living room, touching random objects as if they could anchor me. But unease crept into my chest, twisting tighter with every passing second. Something didn’t feel right, though I couldn’t explain why.

It was only a couple of hours later, when I heard the knock on the door, that my heart plummeted.

At first, I thought it was Fiona. Maybe she forgot something, or maybe she just came back early. But the knocks weren’t casual—they were hard, deliberate, the kind of knocks that demanded instead of asked.

I froze. My breath caught in my throat.

“Open up!” a voice boomed from the other side. Male. Harsh.

My blood ran cold. That wasn’t Fiona.

I moved slowly toward the door, my hands shaking as I pressed my ear against it. My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear. But then the words came again, muffled but clear enough:

“By order of Alpha Bryan, open this door!”

My stomach dropped. Bryan. The guards.

Panic clawed through me, suffocating. If they caught me, they’d drag me back to Enzo’s pack. Back to everything I had just run from. Back to chains I couldn’t survive again.

I stumbled back from the door, my chest heaving. My eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. The knocking grew louder, more violent, and then I heard it—the unmistakable sound of wood splintering. They were trying to break it down.

“No, no, no,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision.

The back door. Fiona had one, didn’t she? I spun around, running through the apartment until I found it—a narrow kitchen with a door that led outside. My hands fumbled on the lock, slippery with sweat, but finally it gave way.

The crash of the front door giving out echoed behind me, and I didn’t look back. I shoved the back door open and bolted into the night, my legs carrying me faster than I thought possible. My lungs burned, my vision swam, but I couldn’t stop.

If they caught me, it was over.

If they caught me, I’d never be free again.