Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 191

Kael's POV

I’d been walking the east wing, checking the routines like I always did. Guards posted at the gates, shifts rotated clean, and not a trace of laxity—at least that was what I hoped. My patrols weren’t just about keeping order; they were about reminding every man here that I had eyes everywhere. I had to. That was my duty as Gamma, and even more as a father.

It was then that one of the younger guards jogged up to me, slightly out of breath. His hands clutched a box—plain, small, but sealed too tightly for my liking.

“Gamma Kael,” he bowed quickly, sweat beading his brow, “this came in. No address, no sender’s name either. Just… left at the gate.”

I frowned, narrowing my eyes at the package. No mark, no seal, no name. That was already a red flag.

“And you brought it straight to me?” I asked, voice even but clipped.

“Yes, Gamma. I didn’t trust it with anyone else.”

I took the box from him, weighing it in my hand. Light. Too light. My instincts bristled. I didn’t like it. At all.

“Good call,” I muttered, dismissing him with a wave of my hand. “Get back to your post. Say nothing about this.”

“Yes, Gamma.”

When he was gone, I tore into the package, my fingers fast, rougher than I intended. A smaller envelope fell into my palm, folded carefully as if someone had put a damn ritual into it. My gut clenched. I unfolded it.

The words hit me like a blow to the chest.

It was addressed to Lisa.

I blinked hard, reading line after line, my jaw tightening. Bryan’s name was scrawled at the bottom, his seal faintly pressed into the paper like he didn’t care who knew he’d written it. The content was worse—it wasn’t just a letter. It was details. Pack securities. Routines. Patrol weak points. He’d written them all out in his handwriting, and—spirits help me—it wasn’t his first letter. He spoke to her like he’d been writing back and forth.

Meet me here.

We can make this work.

You know how fragile their guard systems are.

I trust only you.

I crushed the paper in my fist, my entire body shaking with rage I hadn’t felt in years. Lisa. The Lisa who healed our people. The Lisa who made me laugh with the smallest gestures. The Lisa I had promised my son I’d try harder with. Was she betraying us? Was she selling us out to Bryan—the same bastard who once tossed her aside like nothing?

“Damn it,” I growled under my breath, pacing two steps before I spun on my heel. I couldn’t sit with this. Couldn’t even think straight. I stormed through the halls, my boots thundering against the stone until I reached Enzo’s study.

The door slammed open so hard the hinges rattled. Enzo looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing immediately at my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice dangerous in its calm.

I didn’t bother with words at first. I threw the box down on his desk, the crushed letter spilling halfway out of it. “That,” I snapped.

Enzo snatched it up, scanning it quickly, his jaw clenching tighter with each word. I watched his knuckles whiten as he gripped the edge of his desk.

Before he could speak, Atlas pushed through the door, a half-amused expression on his face until his eyes landed on the box. “What’s going on?” he asked, stepping forward.

Enzo shoved the letter toward him. Atlas took it, skimmed the words, and his expression darkened into something I rarely saw on him—pure, unfiltered anger.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Atlas muttered, shoving the paper back. “She wouldn’t. She—” He cut himself off, grinding his teeth. “Unless she already has.”

I crossed my arms, staring at both of them. My chest was tight, my throat burning with betrayal I couldn’t let myself fully admit.

“She’s been writing to him,” I said bitterly. “This isn’t the first. You don’t talk like this in a single letter. And he knows too much about us for this to be the beginning.”

Enzo slammed his fist against the desk, the wood groaning under the impact. “Where is she?”

“Her room,” I said without hesitation.

He didn’t wait another second. He stormed out, the fury rolling off him like a storm, Atlas right on his heels. I followed, my pulse hammering in my ears.

We reached Lisa’s room in seconds, Enzo throwing the door open without knocking.

Lisa was there, sitting on the edge of her bed, her voice soft as she spoke with Calla, her hand resting gently on the child’s shoulder. Her smile faltered when she looked up and saw us.

“Kael,” she said first, her voice warm, almost relieved. “You’re back—”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I stared at her, my jaw set like stone, my chest twisting. She looked at me with those hopeful eyes, like she expected me to smile back, but I didn’t move.

Her face fell, confusion flickering across her features. “What’s… wrong?”

Enzo didn’t give her a chance to breathe. He strode past me, straight to her desk, yanking open drawers, rifling through everything. Atlas joined him, pulling at shelves, searching every corner.

Lisa stood, alarm in her voice. “What are you doing? Enzo—Atlas—stop!”

They didn’t.

She turned to me, desperation in her eyes now. “Kael, what’s happening? Why are you all—”

“Don’t,” I cut her off, my tone sharper than I intended. My throat ached. “Don’t say my name like that. Not right now.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. She just stared, frozen, as Enzo pulled out another identical box from beneath her bed.

He set it down on her table with a slam. “Explain this,” he demanded, his voice a growl.

Atlas opened it, and sure enough, more letters spilled out. Not one. Not two. Dozens. Each sealed, opened, exchanged.

Lisa gasped, shaking her head immediately. “No—no, those aren’t—”

“Don’t lie to us,” Atlas snapped, holding up one letter, Bryan’s script glaring back at us. “You’ve been writing him. Again and again.”

Her eyes filled with tears, her hands trembling as she reached for one of the letters. “I—I don’t even know how those got here. I never—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted, my voice breaking despite myself. “Lisa, don’t stand there and tell us this isn’t what it looks like.”

Her tears fell then, quick and sharp. She stepped toward me, but I took a step back. Her face crumpled like I’d struck her.

Enzo slammed another drawer shut, his patience gone. “You’ve been giving him information,” he accused. “About us. About our security. Do you understand what that means?”

Lisa shook her head violently, sobbing now. “No, I swear to you, I would never. I don’t know how those letters are even here. I never replied—I never—”

Her words tumbled over each other, frantic, desperate, but my chest burned with doubt. All I could see were the lines in that first letter, Bryan’s smug promises, the way he wrote like she was his.

Atlas slammed his hand against the wall, snarling in frustration. “This is betrayal, Lisa. If you’re lying—”

“I’m not!” she cried, falling to her knees, clutching one of the letters in her shaking hands. “Please, you have to believe me—I didn’t answer him, I didn’t—”

But the evidence lay scattered across her room, damning in its silence.

And I stood there, torn between the Lisa I knew—the healer, the mother of my child, the woman who had looked at me like I mattered—and the box of letters that told me she had been playing us all along.