Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 220

Third person POV

The candlelight in Enzo’s study flickered as he sat hunched over the desk, papers sprawled before him, his fingers pressed against his temple. The weight of the council’s defiance still clung to him like chains, every word of their opposition ringing in his skull. His quill hovered over the parchment, but no words came.

The sharp, hurried knock on the door snapped him out of his storm of thoughts. “Come in,” he barked, voice rough from hours of silence.

The door burst open, and Calla stumbled inside. Her breath came in ragged gasps, strands of hair falling loose from her braid. The sight of her trembling hands and wet eyes made Enzo frown immediately. Calla was the children’s maid, loyal, steady, and always calm—even in chaos. For her to look like this meant something had gone terribly wrong.

“My lord,” she stammered, her voice cracking. “Something’s wrong. It’s the children.”

Enzo’s chair scraped violently against the floor as he stood. His eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring sharp. “Calla, if this is another one of their little games—”

“No!” she interrupted, shaking her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “It isn’t a prank, I swear. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and that was enough to rip away the last shred of Enzo’s doubt. His heart kicked against his ribs, his jaw tightening. “Ash!” he roared.

The door opened again almost instantly, Ash stepping in, hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his blade. His sharp eyes flicked between Calla’s trembling form and Enzo’s clenched fists. “What’s happened?”

“Come,” Enzo snapped, already striding for the door. “Now.”

Calla stumbled after him, clutching her apron tightly as they hurried through the dim halls. Ash’s footsteps thundered behind, silent questions burning in his gaze but unspoken. The air felt heavier with every step, a tension Enzo couldn’t shake.

The closer they came to the children’s quarters, the stranger the atmosphere grew. The air was charged, humming faintly, as though the very walls vibrated with unseen energy. Enzo pushed the thought aside, his pace quickening.

When they reached the doors of the room, Calla stopped abruptly, her hands pressed to her mouth as tears spilled freely. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, shaking.

Enzo shoved the door open without hesitation. What he saw inside rooted him to the spot.

The room was chaos—yet not a chaos of broken furniture or spilled toys. No, this was something unnatural, something impossible.

Elias floated midair, his small body suspended effortlessly above the bed. His eyes were closed, his face serene, but his limbs twitched as if caught in some dream. The very air around him shimmered faintly, bending as though reality itself struggled to hold him.

Lyra stood in the corner, her hands clutching the hem of her dress, her wide eyes glowing a deep, unnatural purple. The light pulsed with every heartbeat, flickering across the walls, unnatural symbols dancing faintly in the shadows as if summoned by her gaze.

Aria stood near the window, her tiny fists clenched, her eyes glowing bright, piercing blue. The air around her rippled, waves of heat rising visibly. Sparks flared in the corners, tiny embers floating as though the atmosphere itself burned in response to her emotions.

And Kael—Kael did not move at all. He stood rigid, his small frame unnaturally still, his face blank like a statue carved from stone. But the air around him was anything but still. A toy chest near him splintered without warning, smashing into pieces as if crushed by invisible force. The bedposts cracked, the floor groaned, everything within a few feet of him quivering violently, bending as though reality itself bowed to his stillness.

Enzo’s breath caught in his chest. He had faced enemies on battlefields, storms that threatened to swallow entire villages, but nothing compared to this sight. His children—his flesh and blood—were no longer ordinary.

Ash swore under his breath, one hand reaching instinctively for his weapon before Enzo shot him a glare sharp enough to cut. “Don’t,” Enzo growled.

“But—”

“I said don’t,” Enzo snapped, his voice low but seething.

Calla sobbed quietly behind them, clutching the doorframe for support. “I don’t understand what’s happening. I tried to calm them, I tried to… to touch them, but—” Her voice broke into a wail. “They’re not themselves, my lord.”

Enzo stepped further into the room, his boots crunching on shards of the broken toy chest. His eyes darted between them—his heart warring with his instincts. These were his children. His children.

But the power radiating from them was undeniable.

Elias stirred in the air, drifting higher, his small form twisting unnaturally. The glow around Lyra deepened, the symbols growing sharper against the walls. Aria let out a low cry, the flames around her flaring higher, licking dangerously at the curtains. Kael’s stillness grew heavier, the room trembling violently, cracks forming in the ceiling.

“Enough,” Enzo muttered, though his voice was drowned by the storm of unnatural power.

Ash grabbed his arm. “We need the healer. Now. Before they—”

“Go!” Enzo barked, shoving him toward the door. “Don’t waste time!”

Ash didn’t argue. He spun and vanished down the hall, his footsteps echoing like thunder.

Enzo turned back, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. “Elias!” he shouted, his voice booming. “Lyra! Aria! Kael!”

But they didn’t hear him. Or maybe they couldn’t. Their eyes, their bodies, their powers—none of it felt like them anymore. It was as if something ancient had awoken inside them, something greater, something terrifying.

The air thickened, harder to breathe. Sweat broke across Enzo’s brow as he forced himself closer, his chest heaving. “You are my children,” he growled under his breath, more to himself than to them. “You will not lose yourselves. I won’t allow it.”

The door burst open again, and Ash reappeared, nearly dragging the healer in his haste. The old woman’s robes billowed, her eyes wide with recognition the moment she crossed the threshold.

“Oh, dear gods,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s happening.”

“What is happening?” Enzo demanded, his voice a whipcrack.

The healer raised her hands, muttering words under her breath. “They’ve awakened. Their powers—just like their mother’s.”

Enzo’s breath hitched. The words cut like knives. Just like her.

The healer stepped forward, her chants quickening as she lifted a small pouch and blew a fine powder into the air. The mist shimmered, golden, and drifted toward the children. Elias shuddered, his body twitching before sinking lower, gently lowered by invisible hands until he landed back on the bed. Lyra’s glowing eyes flickered, dimming as her lashes fluttered closed. Aria let out one last sharp cry, the flames sputtering before extinguishing as she collapsed to the floor, fast asleep. Even Kael, rigid and unmoving, let out a soft sigh, his statue-like stillness breaking as he slumped gently backward onto the rug.

The room fell silent.

Enzo’s chest heaved as he stared at them—four small, still bodies, their powers quieted, their faces finally peaceful again. He wanted to move, to gather them into his arms, to assure himself they were safe, but his legs refused to move.

The healer lowered her hands, her face pale, her breath heavy. “They are asleep now,” she said softly, her voice reverent. “As if sedated. It is temporary. But…” Her gaze lingered on the children, sorrow heavy in her eyes. “There is no denying it. The bloodline has awakened. And nothing will ever be the same.”

Enzo said nothing. His fists trembled at his sides, his jaw locked. His children—his own children—had just revealed the one thing he feared most: the undeniable truth of their mother’s legacy burning through their veins.

And now, nothing in his world would remain untouched.