Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 224

Lisa's POV

I lost count of the hours, the days, the endless cycle of agony that kept me bound to this cold stone chamber. My body trembled from the strain, yet I forced myself to stay awake. Sleep was dangerous—sleep was surrender. Every time my eyelids fluttered shut, Malrik’s dark whispers pressed deeper into my skull, twisting, coiling, demanding submission. I would not give him that.

Not now. Not ever.

The chains around my wrists were heavy, etched with runes that burned whenever I tried to move. The air in here was thick, laced with smoke and strange herbs that made my lungs ache. But I held on. I remembered the voices of my children, their desperate cries echoing through the fragile thread of our bond. *Endure, Mama. Endure.* Their words became my heartbeat, their faith my anchor.

The door creaked, breaking the suffocating silence. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. The sound of her steps—light, mocking, sharp against the stone—was burned into me by now. Irene.

She always came like this, unannounced, savoring her role as Malrik’s venomous shadow.

“Well, well,” she purred, stepping into view. Her crimson gown swished as she walked, her pale face lit by torchlight, lips curled into that wicked smirk I despised. “Still breathing, are we? I almost admire your stubbornness. Almost.”

Her voice slithered over me, oily and sweet, but I sat upright, forcing myself to meet her gaze. My body ached, my ribs screamed with every breath, but I would not give her the satisfaction of bowing.

She circled me like a predator, her nails dragging along the wall, making a sound that set my teeth on edge. “You know, I ask myself often, why do you resist so much? Do you not see that resistance is meaningless? Malrik owns you now. Your screams only make him stronger.”

I clenched my fists, the metal biting into my skin. “If you think I’ll ever surrender to him, you’re more foolish than I thought.”

Her laughter rang out, sharp and cruel. “Oh, sweet Lisa. You already have. Every breath you take here is his. Every drop of blood spilled belongs to him. You are nothing more than a toy, and toys always break eventually.”

Her words stabbed, but I refused to flinch. I thought of Elias, Lyra, Aria. Of Enzo’s voice, deep and resolute, promising he would come. I thought of freedom, and the fury burning inside me swelled.

Irene leaned down suddenly, her face inches from mine, her eyes gleaming with malice. “He’ll strip you of everything. Your strength. Your dignity. Even your soul. And when he’s done, I’ll stand over your broken body and laugh.”

That was it. Something inside me snapped.

For days, weeks, I had endured—biting back my power, holding it tight, refusing to let Malrik sense its full extent. But now, as Irene taunted me, as her voice dripped venom over my wounds, I felt the dam break.

The air shifted. A breeze, faint at first, then growing, swirling around my battered frame. Irene’s eyes flickered, confusion crossing her face.

“What are you—?”

I didn’t let her finish. With every ounce of strength I had left, I drew the air into me, wove it into a blade, and released it.

The gust struck her like a hammer. She screamed as the wind hurled her across the chamber, slamming her into the stone wall with a sickening crack. Dust rained down. The torches flickered violently.

My chest heaved, and a cough tore through me. Blood spattered my lips, dripping down my chin, but I smiled through it.

I spat the blood onto the floor and glared at her crumpled form. My voice came out hoarse, broken, but filled with venom. “If I don’t kill you, Irene, I swear I won’t be satisfied.”

She groaned, pushing herself up, fury blazing in her eyes. “You wretched—”

The door burst open. Guards flooded in, armed with blades and cloaked in Malrik’s sigils. Their eyes widened at the sight of their mistress sprawled on the floor.

“Protect Lady Irene!” one shouted.

They rushed me, but they had made a fatal mistake.

I drew the air tighter, twisting it like a noose around their throats. One by one, their eyes bulged as they clawed at their necks, gasping soundlessly. Their boots scraped against the floor, their weapons clattered uselessly from their hands.

The chamber filled with their strangled cries as the pressure mounted. I didn’t blink. I didn’t waver. I let the air crush them.

One collapsed. Then another. Then another. Bodies hit the ground in heavy thuds, lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Silence returned, broken only by Irene’s horrified gasp.

“You…” she stammered, clutching her chest as she staggered back. “You dare—”

“I told you,” I rasped, wiping the blood from my lips. “I won’t be satisfied until I’ve killed you.”

Her fear was sweet. For the first time, she looked less like Malrik’s untouchable shadow and more like a trembling woman.

But before I could summon the strength to finish her, the air itself shifted violently. The torches guttered out. A wave of raw power crashed into the room, suffocating and heavy.

The door slammed open again, and this time, it was him.

Malrik.

His towering form filled the doorway, his aura black and seething, his eyes glowing like molten gold. Fury rolled off him in waves, scorching the air, making my skin crawl. He stepped inside, every movement slow, deliberate, his gaze sweeping over the corpses on the floor, then fixing on me.

His voice was low, thunderous. “What. Have. You. Done?”

The chains burned, searing my wrists, but I raised my head defiantly. Blood dripped down my chin, and my lungs screamed for relief, but I met his blazing eyes without fear.

“I killed them,” I whispered. “And I’ll kill her too.”