Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 30

Bryan's POV

I knew something ridiculous was coming the moment I smelled my father's cologne before I even heard his knock.

It was too early. The sun hadn't fully claimed the sky yet. I was still shirtless, my head buried in a pillow that had just started to feel like peace, when the door creaked open like a death sentence.

"Get up," came the command I'd grown up resenting.

I groaned, dragging my arm over my eyes. "It's barely even—"

"We're riding today," he cut in flatly. "Alpha Knox and his son are coming over. It's a show of strength and bonding."

I rolled to the side and peeked one eye open. "You want me to go out and bond on a horse?"

He didn't answer. He didn't have to. I could already hear his footsteps fading down the corridor like a ticking time bomb.

Horse riding. With a rival alpha. At dawn.

Fantastic.

By the time I got myself together, the packhouse was already in motion. I threw on some riding gear, boots that still pinched at the heel, and a leather jacket that was more for looks than utility. I barely even had time to grab breakfast before being herded toward the stables.

There they were. Alpha Knox, all muscle and pomp, the kind of man who spoke like the world owed him something. His son, Riven, was younger than me, probably eighteen, but already had that annoying overachiever glow that screamed "perfect offspring."

Riven looked like he was carved out of expectations and raw talent. His hair was neatly brushed back, his posture military straight, and his damn horse—jet black, probably imported—looked like it'd been trained by a god.

"Bryan!" Knox barked, clapping my father on the back and eyeing me like I was some artifact dug up from beneath the packhouse. "He's looking good. A little thin, but good."

Baron barely managed a stiff smile. "He's been training."

"Hope he's not just training his jaw," Knox laughed, throwing a wink to his son. "Riven's been riding since he was a pup. Can do it blindfolded."

Of course he can, I thought bitterly.

I nodded curtly, trying not to roll my eyes as I approached the stable to pick my horse.

The first one looked at me with something bordering pity.

By the time we were all mounted, Knox had already started his long-winded speech about strength, honor, and how bonding through riding forged understanding between packs.

I zoned out about two sentences in.

The ride started off okay. I kept pace with the group, riding alongside Riven, who, of course, looked like he was born in the saddle. My horse, meanwhile, seemed to have an agenda against me.

Every time I tried to steer it confidently, it decided now was the time to itch its flank or slow down for no damn reason.

We reached the open field where the pack sometimes trained and decided, of course, to have a little "friendly competition."

"We'll ride around the perimeter. A full lap," Knox announced. "See who leads the pack."

Father turned to me, his eyes warning. "Don't make me regret this."

You'd think I was heading into war, not a glorified canter.

Riven smirked. "Try to keep up," he whispered as he kicked off.

Show-off.

I followed suit, heels to my horse's side. For the first few seconds, things went well. The wind hit my face, the hooves thundered across the ground, and it almost felt... thrilling.

Then the horse started speeding up.

Then it started veering off course.

And then, because the universe hates me, it bucked.

Not a little bounce. A full-on, spine-snapping, pride-snatching launch.

I hit the ground with a thud that jarred my bones. Grass filled my mouth, and my pride cracked in half. I heard hooves slowing and laughter—one of those sharp, patronizing chuckles that crawled under your skin.

"Well," Knox said, reining in his stallion beside me. "I suppose we can't all be riders."

Alpha Baron was silent. And that silence? It was deadly.

I stood, brushing dirt from my clothes, jaw tight, fists clenched.

"I'm fine," I muttered, though my back screamed otherwise.

We continued. I remounted. This time I stayed on, but I was stiff, awkward, and too focused on not falling again to care about speed.

Riven finished first. Obviously.

When we returned to the stable, the sun was now high above us, glaring down like it, too, had something to say about my performance.

Knox was still chuckling, patting his son's back. "Your boy's got enthusiasm, Baron. Not much else, but enthusiasm."

Baron gave a tight smile. "He'll improve."

"Maybe let him start with ponies," Knox added with a sneer.

Baron didn't reply. His silence this time wasn't just deadly—it was boiling.

I knew I'd hear it later.

The moment we got back to the packhouse, I tried to sneak off. Maybe find a drink. Maybe vanish for a week.

I barely got past the front door when he caught up with me.

"Bryan," his voice snapped like a whip.

I turned, face blank.

"You embarrassed me out there."

"I fell off a horse, not declared war on the council."

He stepped closer, eyes burning. "Do you know what it means when an alpha looks weak?"

"I'm not you."

Wrong answer.

His fist came faster than I expected.

It wasn't the first time he'd hit me. But it still caught me off guard. A sharp jab to the cheekbone, enough to sting but not enough to drop me.

I staggered, blinking.

"I've bled for this pack," he growled, his voice shaking with rage. "I've sacrificed. Built it with fire and bones. You think you get to sulk around because you're heartbroken over some cursed omega?"

I straightened slowly, jaw tightening. "You think this is about her?"

"Everything about you is about her!" he snapped. "You were never weak before she came. Now you're falling off horses and giving the enemy something to laugh at."

I didn't answer.

There was nothing I could say that would make him listen. Nothing that would matter.

He turned sharply, walking away without another word, fists clenched at his side.

I stood there for a long moment, the sting on my face spreading into my jaw, my spine, and my gut.

Maybe I deserved it.

Or maybe... I just didn't care anymore.

The worst part wasn't that I fell.

It was that no one helped me up.