Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 187

Bryan's POV

I paced the length of my study like a caged beast, my fists clenching and unclenching as the words Henry had whispered replayed in my mind. He had come to me in secret, his face tight, his voice low so no wandering ear would catch it.

“Alpha,” Henry had said, bowing his head. “I spoke with Enzo. He refuses to let Lisa come here. He claims she will stay in his territory to treat your people when needed. His words were sharp—he said no one here treated her well when she belonged to this pack, so he will not hand her back to us now.”

At first, I had thought I’d misheard him. The audacity burned through me, so sharp it nearly made me dizzy. Enzo—Enzo of all people—refusing me? And Lisa? That omega daring to be spoken of as though she were something more than the dust she should have remained?

I slammed my palm against the edge of my desk, the wood rattling under the force. My chest heaved, fury like acid in my throat.

“How dare he,” I growled. “How dare Enzo keep what belongs to me? And how dare Lisa allow it—how dare she stand behind him as though he is her shield?”

Henry had bowed even lower, his shoulders tense. “Alpha… I thought it best you know. I saw the fire in his eyes. He is resolute.”

Resolute. The word nearly drove me mad. Enzo was resolute. Lisa was being sheltered by him, when she should have been begging to be allowed back at my mercy. And the worst of it—the unspoken truth that gnawed at my insides—was that Enzo’s words carried some truth. She had been treated poorly. Everyone had cast her aside. Even I had not spared her my contempt.

And yet now… now she was valuable. Now, in her hands, there was skill, healing, a power that my people desperately needed.

I could feel Henry’s eyes flicker toward me, searching for a command, waiting for me to lash out at him instead of the true source of my fury. I forced myself to wave him off. “Leave me,” I said through gritted teeth. “Go. I will decide how to deal with Enzo soon enough.”

He left quickly, relief etched into every movement.

The silence of the room closed around me. My pulse thundered in my ears. Lisa. Enzo. Irene. The entire storm pressing against me, leaving me on the verge of tearing the walls apart.

I stormed down the hall toward my chambers, my thoughts a mess of fire and shadows. I pushed the door open—and stopped dead.

The air was thick, heavy, scented with jasmine and wine. The curtains had been drawn, leaving only the soft glow of candles lighting the room. And there, lounging across the bed like a predator waiting for its prey, was Irene.

She wore nothing but a nightie so sheer it was almost nothing at all. The fabric clung to her skin, revealing every curve, every line of her body. My wife, my Luna, draped in temptation as though she had been born of it.

Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile when she saw me. “You’re late,” she purred. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten you had a wife waiting for you.”

My jaw clenched. Fury and desire warred inside me, a storm I couldn’t name. “This is not the time for your games, Irene.”

She tilted her head, the movement sending her hair spilling across one shoulder. “Games?” she repeated, feigning innocence. “Is that what you think this is?”

She rose from the bed with deliberate slowness, the sheer fabric shifting with her every step. My breath caught against my will, my rage tangled with the pull she always managed to summon from me. She crossed the space between us, her fingers brushing against my chest.

“You’re angry,” she murmured. “I can feel it radiating off you. Henry came to you, didn’t he?”

I froze, my eyes narrowing. “What do you know?”

Her smile sharpened, predatory. “Enough. I know Enzo spat in your face by refusing Lisa. I know you’re burning inside because that little omega is suddenly worth more than she ever should have been. And I know,” she whispered, pressing her lips close to my ear, “that you’re looking at me right now, and you want me.”

My hands fisted at my sides. “Irene…”

“Shh,” she hushed me, pressing a finger to my lips. “Do not bring her name into this room. Do not let her shadow poison my bed. This is my night, Bryan. Mine.”

The fury inside me twisted, shifting into something darker, something hungrier. I grabbed her wrist, my grip firm, pulling her closer. Her breath hitched, though her smile never wavered.

“You think you can distract me with this?” I demanded.

She leaned her head back, laughing softly, the sound dripping with seduction. “Not distract you,” she whispered. “Consume you. Make you forget everything else.”

And damn her, she was succeeding. My body betrayed me even as my mind roared against it. The sight of her, the heat of her skin, the way her voice wrapped around me like silk—it tore through my defenses.

I shoved her back against the bed, my own breathing ragged now. She gasped, but the glint in her eyes was victory, not fear. She pulled me down with her, her lips brushing against mine, teasing, taunting.

The night became a blur of fire and shadows, of whispers and gasps, of rage and desire colliding until I could no longer tell them apart. Irene’s body against mine, her voice in my ear, her nails dragging across my skin—it was raw, it was desperate, it was everything I hadn’t known I was holding back.

She arched beneath me, her laughter turning into moans, her hands gripping me as though she’d never let go. And I let the fury pour out of me, let it turn into something carnal, something consuming, something that belonged only to us in that moment.

Time lost its meaning. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only her, only me, only the fire between us that refused to die.

When it was over, when the room was heavy with the scent of sweat and desire, I lay there with my chest heaving, my body trembling from the storm we had unleashed. Irene curled against me, her smile smug, her hand trailing lazily across my chest.

“You see?” she whispered, her voice a mixture of triumph and tenderness. “There is no Lisa. There is no Enzo. There is only me. Only us.”