Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 227

Third person POV

Malrik’s lair was wrapped in shadows, the ritual chamber pulsating with a suffocating aura. Torches lined the walls, but their flames were a strange black instead of orange, spitting sparks of darkness that ate the light around them. A thick circle of runes glowed faintly on the ground, etched in blood that hadn’t yet dried. The smell of iron hung heavy in the air, mixing with the dampness of the underground stone.

Lisa lay at the center of the circle, her wrists and ankles bound by chains forged from obsidian links, each link carved with runic symbols meant to suppress resistance. Her body was bruised, her face pale, yet her eyes still glimmered faintly with defiance even through exhaustion. Malrik stood over her, his long fingers dipped in ink-black fluid. With deliberate precision, he drew sigils across her arms, her chest, her legs, each mark burning against her skin as though it had been branded with fire.

He chanted in a language older than the land itself, his voice low at first, almost a murmur, before rising into a thunderous cadence that made the walls tremble. The runes beneath Lisa began to flare crimson, and her body arched involuntarily against the floor as heat surged through her veins.

Malrik’s gaze narrowed as he painted a mark across her abdomen, the final rune of the sequence. “You will be the vessel,” he hissed. “You will bring forth the power I need. Your suffering will open the door.”

Lisa bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Her voice cracked, but she forced the words out anyway. “You will… fail. My people… will never let you win.”

Malrik smirked, a cruel, sharp curve of lips. “Your people?” He leaned closer, his voice dripping venom. “Your so-called people cower in shadows. They hide, they scheme, but they are nothing compared to what I will unleash. You are a means, Lisa. That’s all you have ever been.”

Before Lisa could retort, the heavy stone doors of the ritual chamber groaned open. A guard stumbled in, sweat dripping down his face, his voice panicked as he dropped to one knee.

“My lord—intruders. They’ve breached the outer perimeter. The wards at the southern path are down.”

For the first time, Malrik’s chanting broke. His head snapped toward the guard, his eyes glowing with raw fury. The black fluid on his hands hissed and steamed as his power surged uncontrolled.

“What did you say?” His voice thundered like a storm.

The guard bowed lower, trembling. “Intruders. Wolves. Strong ones—we could not hold them back. They are advancing quickly.”

Lisa’s lips curled into a faint, bloodied smile. Her voice was weak but mocking, the sound of victory long before it had arrived. “They’ve come for me. I told you… you wouldn’t last.”

Malrik whirled on her, his face twisted with rage. He slammed his hand against the rune on her chest, sending a jolt of searing pain through her body. Lisa screamed, her back arching against the floor, but even through the agony her eyes still shone with defiance.

“You think they will save you?” Malrik snarled. “You think I will fall so easily? No, Lisa. They walk into their graves.”

He turned from her abruptly, his cloak whipping around like a shadow come alive. To the guard, he growled, “Summon every last soldier. Arm them with the cursed blades. No hesitation—kill on sight. Drench the ground with their blood before they reach these doors.”

The guard scrambled to his feet and fled without another word, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Malrik raised his hand, dark energy coiling around his fingers like living serpents. With a guttural roar, he slammed his palm into the ground. The runes surrounding Lisa pulsed violently, and cracks spread outward across the chamber floor. From those cracks oozed black smoke, thick and choking, that slithered like rivers down the hallways of the fortress.

He whispered an incantation, his voice low and seething. “Let them choke. Let them falter. May their strength rot as they draw closer. This land is mine to command.”

The dark smoke rolled outward, spilling into every corridor, every entrance, weaving a barrier of corrupted magic that pulsed with his heartbeat.

Lisa coughed as the energy lashed at her body, but she lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze. “You can summon all the shadows you want, Malrik. It won’t matter. They’ll find me. They’ll break your curses. And when they do… it will be you choking on your own darkness.”

Malrik’s expression darkened further, his rage nearly boiling over. For a moment, he considered snapping her neck where she lay, but he caught himself, inhaling deeply. He needed her alive—for now. She was the vessel, the key to his ascension. Killing her would undo everything.

Instead, he stepped back into the center of the ritual circle, his fingers tightening around the dagger at his hip. The blade was jagged obsidian, glowing faintly with crimson veins, pulsing as though it were alive.

“They will die screaming,” he said coldly. “And when I’m done, you will beg me to kill you just to end the pain.”

Lisa closed her eyes, a single tear sliding down her temple. Not of fear, but of determination. She had to hold on. She had to endure, no matter how much it hurt. Her children had found her. She could feel it in her heart. If she could survive just a little longer, they would reach her.

Malrik raised his arms once more, chanting louder now, his voice resonating through the stone. The runes on Lisa’s skin flared again, and agony coursed through her body in waves. Yet even as she writhed, she forced a smile, faint and stubborn.

Her whisper echoed through the chamber, barely audible, but Malrik heard it.

“You’re already losing.”

He ignored her words, though the fury in his eyes betrayed him. The chamber shook with his power as the ritual deepened, the dark energy consuming every corner of the fortress while outside, the brothers and their army drew closer, hacking through his defenses one by one.

The air grew colder. The torches flickered. The battle was about to reach him.

And Malrik swore, in that moment, that he would drown them all in darkness before letting them tear his prize away.