Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 22

Kael’s pov

I woke up with a dull ache in my shoulder and a sharp sting where the scrape had crusted overnight. It didn’t bother me too much—nothing I hadn’t felt before. Compared to what I’ve been through in the border fights, a scratch was just a handshake from nature.

Still, I had a few things to get done today. I pulled on a clean shirt, tucked the edge into my belt, and headed down the corridor toward Enzo’s study. The early morning air inside the packhouse still carried the sharpness of night chill. I liked it better when everything was quiet like this.

I knocked once.

“Come in,” came his voice.

Enzo sat at his desk, sleeves rolled, skimming through a pile of documents like he was ready to end someone's career over one misplaced comma. He barely looked up as I entered.

“I need your approval signature on the supply order for the western perimeter,” I said, setting the file in front of him.

He glanced at it, signed with a stroke, and handed it back. “You didn’t sleep here last night?”

“No. Stayed in the city quarter. There was an issue with one of the shipment schedules. Sorted it out.”

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

He raised a brow. “That sarcasm or honesty?”

“Both,” I replied with a shrug, heading for the door.

“Wait,” he called after me. “How’s your leg?”

“Doesn’t feel like it’s falling off. So… good, I guess.”

He gave me one of those tired nods he reserved for when he didn’t know how to ask if I’d gotten myself into trouble again. Which I had, technically, but he didn’t press.

I left the study, file tucked under my arm. I could’ve gone straight to my quarters or to the training field—but my feet dragged me elsewhere.

The ranch.

I didn’t know why, but I’d always found peace there. Something about the morning sun hitting the field, the faint whiff of hay and horse musk in the air. Maybe it reminded me of simpler days.

Also, I had cats to feed.

Yeah, I said it.

Rogue warriors may fear me, but stray kittens don’t. There were three of them—Scab, Fang, and Potato. They always waited for me behind the stables, and I always brought them something from the kitchen. Today it was a leftover fish pie I’d “confiscated” from the pantry last night.

I crouched by the old wooden crate where they usually gathered and whistled. Within seconds, Potato—chubby and orange—came waddling out first.

“Morning, traitor,” I muttered, feeding him a piece.

I was in the middle of dishing out more scraps when I heard voices from the other end of the ranch. Curious, I stood up, brushing off my trousers. A group of girls—maids, likely—stood near the horses. One of them, Calla, I recognized. The others I didn’t know well.

But the new girl?

Yeah. I figured that had to be her.

Lisa.

I’d heard her name thrown around lately. The omega Enzo and Ash took in from Baron’s pack. The one people whispered about when they thought no one was listening. Judging by the way she stiffened as one of the horses was being prepped, I guessed she wasn’t exactly comfortable yet.

Not that I blamed her.

Still, I didn’t go over. Wasn’t any of my business. I’d just turned to walk away when something happened.

A sharp whistle through the air—then a yelp from the horse.

My head snapped back instantly. One of the stable boys must’ve thrown a stone by mistake—maybe trying to scare off a bird. But the damn rock struck the horse square on the flank.

And it bolted.

With Lisa still on it.

“Shit.”

I was already moving before my brain caught up.

I vaulted the side gate, feet hitting the grass hard. The horse was screaming and Lisa—hell—she looked terrified. Clinging to the reins like they were the only things tethering her to life. I’d seen battlefields. I’d seen wolves gutted in the woods. But something about her face in that moment... it made my instincts kick in harder than usual.

I intercepted the horse just before it hit the far fence. Threw myself sideways. Grabbed the reins near the mouth and yanked hard. The beast reared, hooves flailing, and one of them clipped my thigh as I twisted to take the brunt of the force away from her.

We both hit the ground hard.

I groaned, one arm throbbing, the other leg already going stiff. But Lisa was safe. Shaken, breathless, and pale—but safe.

“Are you okay?” I asked, pushing myself halfway up, trying not to wince.

“I—I think so. Are you?”

“Not dying,” I muttered. “So we’ll count that as a win.”

She stood awkwardly, brushing herself off. Her hair had fallen from its neat bun and framed her face like she’d just stepped out of a movie scene where everything goes to hell. But she didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She looked... embarrassed.

“I’m Lisa,” she mumbled, lowering her gaze.

I dusted off my sleeve and gave her a soft smile. “Kael.” I said taking her extended hand which spiked up my wolf.

I felt my wolf being giddy just by me touching her … could she be my…… I thought.

Her eyes lifted again, like she was trying to remember something important. I didn’t say anything else. Didn’t ask if she needed help. I didn’t want her to think I was pitying her.

So I just smiled again and turned, limping a little as I walked away toward the far gate.

My leg was screaming. My arm felt like it had been gnawed on by one of my stray cats. But I didn’t look back.

Sometimes kindness is better when it’s quiet.

I wasn’t limping.

Okay—maybe I was. But with dignity.

My leg throbbed like it had been personally offended by the horse. Which, to be fair, it probably was. I mean, what kind of reward is that for saving someone? One heroic grab of the reins and boom—hoof to the thigh.

Clearly, chivalry was overrated.

I managed to drag myself halfway across the ranch like a proud, wounded soldier returning from the battlefield. The stables were behind me. The cat crate was in sight. All I needed was to make it to my pile of hay, lie down dramatically, and perhaps pass out like a tragic fairytale hero.

And then I heard her.

“KAEL!”

Crap.

I flinched, almost tripped over my own boot, and peeked over my shoulder.

Mira.

Tiny, fast, red-haired fury barreling toward me with something that looked suspiciously like gauze and a vial of that infernal stingy antiseptic. You know the one that burns like betrayal and smells like the apocalypse.

“Nope!” I shouted, waving a hand. “I’m good. I’m breathing. Probably still handsome. Nothing a nap and mild denial won’t fix.”

She did not stop.

In fact, she sped up.

Double crap.

I tried to move faster, but my thigh was not interested in cooperating with my survival instinct. “Mora, listen. I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But I’m allergic to being touched when I’m in pain. And also to being dragged.”

“Kael, stop walking.”

“Can’t. If I stop, I might die. Like sharks. Or legends.”

“KAEL!”

Too late.

She caught up. Grabbed my arm like I was some lost toddler trying to escape bath time.

“I don’t need—ow, ow, okay, fine—Mira, your grip is illegal. I should report you.”

She ignored me. “You need to be looked at. You could’ve fractured something.”

“I’ve fractured many things before,” I mumbled. “Like my pride. My patience. My sense of privacy.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, tugging me with surprising strength. “Just shut up and walk.”

“I am walking! While being emotionally manipulated!”

By the time we reached the infirmary, I was putting on the most Oscar-worthy limp known to wolfkind. If someone had thrown petals in front of me, I’d have taken it as my red carpet moment. A nurse spotted us at the door, blinked twice like she wasn’t sure if we were joking, and motioned us in.

“Oh yay, audience,” I mumbled, flopping dramatically onto the nearest bed. “Bring the torch. Bring the tears. I’m ready for my last words.”

“You’re not dying, Kael,” Mira said flatly, already pulling out alcohol swabs and bandages.

“You don’t know that,” I sniffed. “Maybe I have internal bleeding. Maybe the horse cursed me. Maybe I’ve got—what’s that thing—hoofitis?”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“It could be.”

She rolled her eyes and yanked up the leg of my trousers.

“Hey! Buy me dinner first!” I squeaked, covering my face with both hands.

“Kael, shut up.”