Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 237

Third person POV

The cavern reeked of smoke and ash, the remnants of Malrik’s dark magic fading slowly into the damp air. The heavy silence after his death felt almost unbearable, as though the earth itself was holding its breath. Lisa lay in Enzo’s arms, weakened but alive, her children clinging to her hands while the brothers formed a protective circle around them. The battle was over.

When at last they emerged from the hideout, the light of day struck them with blinding brilliance. Outside, scores of shoulders—warriors from allied packs who had been waiting on the periphery—fell instantly to their knees. A wave of voices rose together, raw and reverent.

“Hail the protectors!” one called.

“Glory to the Alpha blood!” another shouted.

The air vibrated with chants and bows as every warrior pressed their heads low to the ground. They hailed Lisa, the children, and the brothers—Enzo, Ash, Atlas, and Kael—as saviors who had delivered them from the darkest threat in living memory. For a moment, none of them moved. Enzo stood tall with Lisa in his arms, his gaze sweeping across the mass of loyal warriors, his expression carved with exhaustion and resolve.

“Rise,” his voice thundered, carrying authority that brooked no defiance. The soldiers obeyed at once, though their eyes still glistened with awe and devotion.

Enzo’s face hardened. “This place is tainted. Malrik’s filth cannot remain. Burn it all. Tear down every stone, scorch every corner, make sure not even ants survive within these walls.”

The command rolled through the ranks like fire catching dry brush. Warriors rushed into action, some carrying torches, others dousing the ground with oil. The hideout that had harbored centuries of darkness was about to be erased.

Ash moved closer to Enzo, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the soldiers preparing the destruction. “We shouldn’t leave anything. If Malrik left any remnant of his rituals, it could fester.”

Enzo gave a single nod. “That’s why nothing remains. Not a relic, not a stone, not even the air inside.”

Atlas, still bleeding from gashes on his arms, leaned heavily on his weapon but managed a grin. “Fitting end for a monster’s lair. Let the flames take it.”

Kael bent down, gently gathering the exhausted children, letting them cling to him as Lisa stirred faintly in Enzo’s hold. “They need rest. We need to go back to the pack before the weight of this battle crushes them.” His voice was softer than usual, but steady with conviction.

Enzo’s gaze lingered on Lisa’s pale face, then he gave the final order. “Light it.”

The soldiers obeyed without hesitation. Flames leapt hungrily onto the hideout’s wooden supports, spreading across the walls with terrifying speed. Smoke plumed into the sky, thick and black, a symbol of the end of Malrik’s reign. The fire roared, consuming the cursed grounds until it was nothing but ruin. Warriors watched in grim silence, the crackle of destruction echoing across the clearing.

Enzo turned away first. “Back to the pack. Our people await.”

The journey home was heavy with silence. Warriors marched behind in solemn formation, carrying the scent of smoke on their skins, while the brothers flanked Enzo and Kael as they shielded Lisa and the children. Every step was weighted with exhaustion, but beneath it all was a current of relief, a sense that they had crossed the impossible and lived.

When they finally reached the pack grounds, the gates were thrown wide open. Wolves and kin poured out, their eyes widening at the sight of their leaders returning. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd at the bruises, the torn clothes, and the limp way Lisa’s head rested against Enzo’s chest. Mothers pulled children close, warriors bowed their heads, and healers rushed forward.

Calla, the head healer, broke through the throng first. Her silver hair shimmered under the sunlight, her eyes already scanning every wound before words left her lips. “Bring her to the healing chambers now!” she ordered, her voice sharp but filled with urgency.

Mira, younger but no less skilled, followed close behind, carrying her satchel of herbs and supplies. “The children too,” she said firmly. “They’ve channeled too much power for their age. They need grounding before their energy burns out.”

Enzo didn’t wait for ceremony. He strode forward, his arms cradling Lisa tightly, his aura a warning for anyone who dared approach recklessly. The crowd parted as if the winds themselves had commanded them. Ash, Atlas, and Kael followed, guiding the children gently, while Mira ushered them all into the infirmary wing of the pack house.

Inside, the rooms smelled of lavender and pine, the walls lined with shelves of herbs, potions, and enchanted stones glowing faintly. Calla directed them to a special chamber set apart from the rest, one reserved for those of Alpha blood.

“Lay her here,” Calla instructed, motioning to a bed covered in woven furs and crystals embedded into the headboard. Enzo lowered Lisa onto it carefully, his hands lingering on her arms as though unwilling to let go. Her breaths were shallow but steady, her body glowing faintly with residual energy.

Mira was already at the children’s side, guiding them each to smaller beds. “Close your eyes,” she whispered gently to them, “let me take the weight. You’ve done enough.” She pressed her palms over Elias’s chest, her aura seeping in to calm the storm raging within his tiny body. Lyra whimpered softly, and Mira soothed her, whispering incantations that slowed her pulse. Aria and Kael’s son were next, their eyelids fluttering closed under Mira’s care.

Ash exhaled, slumping against the wall as if his legs might give out. Atlas sank onto a chair, clutching his arm where blood still seeped. Kael paced restlessly, his eyes darting from Lisa to the children and back again.

Calla turned toward the brothers at last. “You three are a mess. Sit.”

“I’m fine,” Ash muttered, but Calla’s sharp glare cut him down instantly.

“Fine? You’ve got a wound on your side deep enough to spill your insides if you sneeze too hard. Sit.”

Atlas chuckled weakly despite his pain. “You’ll never win against her, Ash. Might as well obey.”

Ash grumbled but obeyed, lowering himself onto another bed. Atlas joined him, wincing as Calla inspected his arm. Kael resisted until Mira shot him the same look she gave unruly pups in the infirmary. Reluctantly, he sank onto a bench, though his eyes never strayed far from the children.

The healers worked in silence, the only sounds the soft murmurs of incantations, the hiss of herbs being ground, and the faint hum of healing stones. Enzo stood near Lisa’s bed, silent and unmoving, his massive frame casting a protective shadow over her. His hand gripped hers, thumb brushing against her knuckles as though anchoring her to him.

Calla moved between them all with grace, her hands glowing as she mended torn flesh and knitted bone. Mira continued to work on the children, sprinkling powdered moonstone over them and weaving protective wards into the air.

Hours seemed to stretch endlessly. Outside, the pack remained gathered, unwilling to disperse until word came of their saviors’ condition. Inside, time slowed to the rhythm of Lisa’s breathing, to the weight of waiting.

At last, Calla straightened, wiping sweat from her brow. “They’ll live. All of them. They just need rest.”

Relief swept the room like a tide. Ash let out a groan that was half a laugh, half a sob. Atlas leaned back, eyes closing in exhaustion. Kael dropped his head into his hands, shoulders shaking.

Enzo bent low over Lisa, pressing his forehead gently against hers. For the first time since the battle, his hard exterior cracked, his lips trembling as he whispered so low only she could hear. “You’re safe. You did it. Rest now, my heart.”

Lisa stirred faintly, her lips parting in a soft exhale, and her fingers twitched against his. Enzo’s chest rose sharply, and his eyes burned with unshed tears. He kissed her hand, holding it as though letting go would shatter him entirely.

The healers began to clear their tools, the room filling with the quiet calm of recovery. The brothers, though battered, remained together, silent sentinels around Lisa and the children. Outside, the flames that had devoured Malrik’s hideout still smoldered in the distance, smoke trailing across the horizon like a reminder that darkness had been purged.

But inside the pack house, surrounded by warmth, healing, and family, a different kind of fire burned—one that promised survival, strength, and the beginning of something new.