Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 202

Third person POV

The courtyard of the pack house had been transformed. Lanterns hung from branches, their golden glow flickering gently in the cool night air. Long tables were covered with white cloths, unevenly spread but adorned with baskets of fruit, bread, and pastries that clearly bore the marks of hasty but loving hands. Ribbons streamed from poles, dancing with every soft breath of wind. The scent of roasted meat lingered, carried on the breeze, mingling with the sweetness of honey cakes.

Calla stood at the center, her arms folded loosely across her chest as she watched the children make last-minute adjustments. Elias was climbing a stool to adjust one of the lanterns, nearly losing his balance until a nearby guard steadied him. Kael darted between the tables, setting wooden cups in crooked rows, his determination outweighing his clumsiness. Lyra hummed while carefully arranging flowers into small jars, her tiny fingers weaving petals together with surprising patience. Aria, the youngest, had flour smeared across her cheeks, proudly holding the small cake she’d been assigned to guard as though it were treasure itself.

“Careful, Elias,” Calla called, her tone firm but warm. “If you fall, there’ll be no birthday celebration, only broken bones.”

“I won’t fall,” Elias insisted, puffing his chest out as he tied the knot tighter. “This is for Daddy. It has to be perfect.”

Kael glanced up from his cups, frowning at his brother. “It’s not only for Daddy. It’s for all of them. Uncle Ash, Uncle Kael, and Uncle Atlas too.”

Elias hopped down from the stool, his face flushed. “I know. But Daddy is the Alpha, so it has to be extra perfect.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, soft but amused. “Everything doesn’t have to be a competition, Elias. They’ll all be happy. That’s the point.”

Aria toddled forward, hugging the cake closer to her chest. “We sing too?”

“Yes,” Calla confirmed, crouching to adjust the ribbon slipping from Aria’s small hand. “We’ll sing when they arrive. Loud and proud, so they can hear just how much you love them.”

The children nodded eagerly. Calla rose, her gaze sweeping over the courtyard. She could feel the guards’ eyes on the preparations too, their usual sternness softened by the sight of small hands trying so hard to bring joy to warriors weighed down by battle and bloodshed. They had all seen the carnage of the rogue attack. They had all bled and lost comrades. But tonight, even if only for a few hours, they wanted their leaders to feel the gratitude of their people and the love of their children.

“Alpha Enzo, Beta Ash, Gamma Kael, Delta Atlas,” Calla murmured under her breath, as though reciting a prayer. “Tonight belongs to them.”

The heavy doors of the pack house creaked open. A hush fell over the courtyard as the sound of boots echoed closer. The guards straightened. The children froze for a heartbeat before bursting into wide smiles.

“They’re coming!” Elias whispered loudly, nearly bouncing on his heels.

The four men emerged side by side, their towering frames silhouetted against the torchlight. Enzo led them, his expression carved in stone, though the shadows beneath his eyes betrayed exhaustion. Ash followed, broad-shouldered and restless, his gaze sharp and searching. Kael walked with his usual calm grace, though his lips pressed into a thin line, and Atlas, ever silent, moved like a mountain given flesh, his presence alone enough to quiet a crowd.

The moment they stepped into the courtyard, the children shouted as one.

“Happy birthday!”

Voices rang out, shrill and bright, shattering the weight of silence. The guards clapped, their hands striking together in a rhythm of celebration. Calla gestured, and the children rushed forward.

Elias barreled into Enzo’s legs, hugging him tightly. “Surprise, Daddy!”

Enzo blinked, the iron in his face cracking as he looked down at his son. “Elias… what is all this?”

“It’s your birthday!” Elias declared proudly. “We did it all! We made it for you!”

Before Enzo could respond, Kael’s son tugged at his father’s hand, pulling him toward the decorated tables. “Look, Papa! I set the cups myself. Straight lines. Well… mostly.”

Kael bent down, his stern gaze softening. “You did this for me?”

“Yes,” the boy said firmly, puffing out his chest. “For you and Uncle Enzo and Uncle Ash and Uncle Atlas. Because you fight for us, and we wanted to fight for you in our own way.”

Ash was nearly knocked off balance as Lyra hugged him tightly. “Happy birthday, Uncle Ash! I made the flowers.”

Ash looked down at her, his rough exterior melting as he crouched to her level. “Flowers for a wolf?”

Lyra nodded with conviction. “Even wolves need beauty. You always look grumpy. Flowers make people less grumpy.”

Ash let out a laugh, rare and genuine, ruffling her hair. “Then I’ll keep them.”

Atlas felt a tug on his sleeve. Aria stood there, the small cake still clutched in her arms. She held it up with both hands, wobbling under its weight. “Mine,” she said proudly. “For you.”

Atlas stared at her for a long moment, the silence stretching. Then he knelt, his massive frame folding so he could take the cake carefully, as though it were the most precious thing he’d ever been given. “Thank you,” he rumbled, his voice low but sincere. “I will treasure it.”

The courtyard filled with laughter and chatter as the children dragged the men toward the tables. Calla clapped her hands. “Sit, sit! Tonight you do not wear the faces of warriors. Tonight you are fathers, uncles, brothers. Tonight you are celebrated.”

Reluctantly, Enzo allowed Elias to pull him into a seat. Ash sank into a chair with Lyra perched happily beside him, showing him the small crown of flowers she’d made. Kael inspected the crooked line of cups with exaggerated seriousness, making his son beam with pride. Atlas sat at the head of a table, Aria climbing onto his lap as she babbled about how she’d helped stir the batter for the cake.

Plates were passed, cups filled. Guards joined the children in serving, their eyes glimmering with respect as they set down roasted meat, bread, and steaming bowls of stew. The warriors who had bled for their pack were being served tonight, honored not with grand speeches, but with the simplest, purest gesture: love.

Calla raised her cup. “To the Alpha, the Beta, the Gamma, and the Delta. May the Moon watch over you, may your strength never falter, and may you always remember the people you fight for.”

The guards echoed her words, their voices a steady chorus. The children shouted “cheers!” and clinked their cups of juice against the warriors’ ale.

For the first time in weeks, Enzo smiled. He looked around the table, at his brothers in arms, at his son’s bright eyes, at the flowers, the ribbons, the laughter. For one fleeting moment, the shadows of war lifted.

Ash tore into the roasted meat, his appetite returning as Lyra fed him small bites of bread with giggles. Kael listened patiently as his son explained the “battle strategy” of arranging cups in lines, nodding as though it were the most important tactic in the world. Atlas allowed Aria to smear a bit of frosting on his nose, the sight drawing laughter from every guard present.

Elias leaned close to Enzo. “Do you like it, Daddy? We worked so hard.”

Enzo placed a hand on his son’s head, his voice thick. “I love it, Elias. More than you’ll ever know.”

The night stretched on, filled with stories and laughter, with children climbing onto their fathers’ laps, with guards singing old songs that spoke of unity and strength. The birthday celebration, born from small hands and hopeful hearts, became a beacon of light in the darkness that loomed beyond their walls.

And though battles awaited, though grief and danger still circled like wolves in the shadows, tonight they had each other. Tonight they were not just leaders. Tonight, they were family.