Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 214

Enzo's POV

The moment I pushed the heavy metal door open, the thick stench of blood and sweat hit me in the face like a wave. The air was humid, suffocating, filled with the muffled groans of a man who had already endured too much. My boots clicked against the concrete floor as I stepped into the torture room, and the sound seemed to echo in the silence that followed.

Ash stood leaning against the wall, arms folded, his eyes sharp and expectant. Kael had his fists clenched, restless energy rippling off him. Atlas was crouched near the corner, wiping his blade on a rag, expression calm, detached, like he’d seen this scene a hundred times.

And then there was Bryan.

The bastard was tied to a steel chair bolted to the floor, arms pulled tight against the restraints. His shirt was ripped open, soaked in sweat and streaks of crimson. One side of his face was already swollen, his lip split open. His breathing came in ragged pants, but when he lifted his head and his eyes met mine, there was still a flicker of defiance in them.

I hated that.

I walked in slowly, deliberately, letting him see me. Letting him feel my presence before I even spoke. The man flinched, not outwardly, but I saw it in the way his nostrils flared and his shoulders stiffened. He knew what I was. He knew what I could do.

Ash straightened. “He’s not talking. Keeps saying he doesn’t know.”

Kael spat on the floor. “He’s lying. Everyone knows something. He just thinks he can outlast us.”

Atlas said nothing. He just kept cleaning his blade, eyes cool, detached.

I didn’t answer any of them immediately. I walked over to the table in the center of the room—the one lined with knives, pliers, hooks, tools that had long lost their original purpose. My hand hovered above them until I picked up one blade in particular, long and thin, gleaming even in the dim light. I turned it over in my palm, testing the balance, and then let my gaze fall on Bryan again.

“Where is Irene?” My voice was calm, steady. No need to shout. My tone alone carried the weight of what would follow if he refused.

Bryan coughed, spat blood onto the floor, then smirked through cracked lips. “I don’t know any Irene.”

I walked toward him, each step slow, measured. His breathing quickened, though he tried to mask it behind bravado.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said. “I don’t—”

The knife slid into his thigh before he could finish. His scream echoed against the walls, bouncing back at us like music, but my face remained expressionless as I twisted the blade.

“I asked you one question,” I murmured, leaning closer so he could feel my breath on his face. “Where. Is. Irene?”

He gritted his teeth, face pale, sweat dripping down his temples. “I told you—I don’t—”

Without warning, I yanked the knife free and shoved it upward, burying the steel into the soft socket of his right eye. The sound was wet, sickening, followed by a howl that shook even Kael enough to flinch back. Bryan thrashed against the chair, but the restraints held him tight.

Blood poured down his cheek, mixing with tears, and I pressed my hand firmly on his head, forcing him to stay still as I worked the knife. A final tug, and the eye came free, dangling on the tip of the blade for a moment before I flicked it onto the ground.

The room was silent except for Bryan’s guttural sobs.

Ash looked away briefly, jaw tight. Kael cursed under his breath, while Atlas, unbothered, finally set his rag aside and rose to his feet.

I wiped the knife on Bryan’s torn shirt. “You have one more chance. Where is she?”

His remaining eye darted wildly, desperation creeping in now. But still, he shook his head, muttering through the pain. “I swear… I don’t know…”

Pathetic.

I slid the blade slowly across his throat, not deep enough to kill instantly, just enough to let him feel the hot sting, to let the blood ooze down in a trickle. His chest heaved, panic taking over as he realized this wasn’t going to be quick.

“Every lie you tell me,” I whispered, “is another piece of you I carve away.”

His mouth opened, closed. His words came out broken, begging, but they were nothing useful. Lies. Desperation. Empty pleas.

So I made his death a slow one.

The knife traced his body in deliberate cuts—his arm, his chest, his other thigh—each one shallow but agonizing. His screams grew hoarse, breaking into sobs, then into silence when his voice gave out. His head sagged forward, body trembling violently as the blood pooled beneath him.

When his breathing finally faltered, I drove the blade straight into his heart, ending it.

The silence that followed was heavy, thick.

I stood there, staring down at the lifeless body, and then turned to Ash. “Pack the corpse. Dispose of it. No traces left.”

Ash nodded immediately, pushing off the wall. “Understood.”

My gaze shifted to Kael. His hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white, but his eyes burned with fury, ready to carry out whatever I ordered.

“Announce to the packs,” I said, my voice cutting through the silence like steel. “We will be conducting thorough searches. Every den, every home, every shadow will be uncovered. If any pack refuses or hesitates to comply…” I let the pause hang, my eyes locking with his. “Their pack will be burnt to ashes. Do you understand?”

Kael’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Perfectly.”

“Good. Make sure the message spreads fast. No one will question what happens to traitors.”

Finally, I turned to Atlas. He was watching me closely, as though weighing something in his mind. His calm demeanor never faltered, but I knew he absorbed every word, every command.

“You’ll check on the children,” I said firmly. “Elias, Lyra, Aria, and Kael. I want their safety guaranteed. No excuses. No slipups. You’ll also organize the council meeting. I want every elder seated by tomorrow night.”

Atlas inclined his head. “It will be done.”

I lingered there for a moment, staring at Bryan’s ruined body, listening to the faint dripping of blood onto the concrete. My grip tightened around the knife before I finally set it back on the table.

There was no satisfaction in his death. No relief. Only the gnawing truth that the answers I wanted still eluded me.

But one thing was certain.

Fear would spread faster than blood.

And fear was exactly what I needed.