Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 45

Beta Ash's POV

Steam clouded the mirror in front of me, fogging my reflection as I ran a towel through my hair. The water still clung to my skin, cooling rapidly in the room’s natural air. It should’ve been just another quick shower, something to wash off the day. But the moment I stepped out, her scent hit me like a damn freight train.

I froze.

That scent.

Sweet. Warm. Subtle vanilla with a hint of earth—like wildflowers and fresh wind after rain.

My wolf stirred beneath my skin instantly.

She’s here.

Lisa.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me that.

I had memorized every note of her scent that night in the club. The night she touched me—kissed me—like her lips had nowhere else to belong. She hadn’t recognized me since then, which I found ironic considering how unforgettable that night was for me.

But she hadn't remembered. Or maybe she did and chose silence.

I didn’t know which would piss me off more.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tightness in them. My hand reached for a fresh towel as I stepped out of the bathroom, water dripping off my hair and trailing down my chest.

The second I entered the room, I found her there.

Lisa.

She was standing near my desk, hovering around a photo frame. Her back was to me, body tense like she was trying to keep her presence minimal—which she was failing at. My jaw ticked.

Curious little omega.

She hadn’t noticed me yet. My scent wasn’t subtle, so she must’ve been too deep in snooping mode to pick up on it. I watched her tilt her head slightly, scanning my belongings like she could read who I was from the items I kept.

Then she turned.

Saw me.

Froze.

The way her eyes widened with panic, realization, and embarrassment all at once—it almost made me laugh. Almost. If my wolf wasn’t threatening to claw his way out and pin her to the wall.

I wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her gaze flicked lower, locked for a heartbeat, and I caught it. That little flicker of desire before she masked it behind panic.

“I—I came to bring tea!” she stammered, clutching a tray like it was a shield.

I arched a brow. “Peace offering?”

Her face heated so fast I thought she’d combust. “Yes. Well—truce. For earlier. In the kitchen.”

My lips twitched, amused. “No one’s ever tried to drown me before. You’re creative.”

She gave an awkward smile, the kind someone wore when they were mentally planning to run out the window. She set the tray down and tried to excuse herself, but didn’t move. Her eyes danced around the room, back to my chest, then quickly to the desk again.

And then…

She stepped forward.

I didn’t move.

Her fingers grazed my chest, feather-light, and my entire body locked.

What the hell is she doing?

Don’t let her touch you again. Don’t—

But I didn’t stop her.

She tilted her face up, eyes asking questions her lips didn’t dare voice.

And then she kissed me.

Soft.

Testing.

Dangerous.

Every instinct in me screamed to respond. To devour her right then and there. My wolf snapped forward, growling just beneath the surface, clawing at my control like it had been caged too long.

Touch her. Pull her close. Show her who you are.

No.

Not like this.

I gripped her shoulders and gently, but firmly, pushed her back.

“Lisa,” I said, my voice low, tighter than I liked, “No.”

She blinked at me like she just woke from a trance. Horror spread over her features like wildfire.

And then she screamed.

Like I’d set her on fire.

Before I could say a word, she bolted out of the room, nearly knocking over the tea tray in the process.

I stood there for a second, blinking.

Then let out a long, slow breath.

Well, that escalated.

I grabbed the towel from my neck, wiped the remaining water from my face, and muttered under my breath, “What the hell just happened?”

My wolf sulked somewhere in my chest, growling about missed opportunities and stupid boundaries.

I ignored him.

Barely a minute later, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said, sighing, expecting one of the maids with an urgent excuse or some poor soul sent by Enzo.

Atlas stepped in, casual as ever, holding a rolled scroll in one hand.

“Tell me I didn’t just see Lisa race past my room like she’d been chased by an angry goose,” he said without preamble.

I gave him a look. “Long story.”

His eyes narrowed, amused. “Do I want to know?”

“No.”

He laughed and tossed the scroll onto the edge of the desk. “Well, if you’re done with your private show, Enzo asked me to finalize patrol rotation for the west wing. We need to adjust timing now that Kael’s out of commission for a few days.”

I ran a hand through my still-damp hair. “Right. Got it.”

He paused, studying me. “You alright?”

“Do I not look alright?” I deflected.

“You look like someone whose boundary got overstepped by a confused omega and then was left high and dry,” he said bluntly.

I didn’t reply. Mostly because it was almost accurate.

“Let me guess…” he grinned. “Lisa?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s not a denial.”

I turned toward the table and opened the scroll, trying to shift the focus.

Atlas, thankfully, didn’t push.

We went over the new patrol routes in silence for a few minutes. Atlas marked the corners of our weak points, and we allocated two guards per sector. We’d switch night patrols to more aggressive rotations and have the younger deltas train under supervision.

“Enzo wants to double the wall scans after the rogue incident,” Atlas said, tapping the side of the map. “He doesn’t trust that breach was random.”

“It wasn’t,” I said. “That was planned. Coordinated. And someone on the inside helped.”

“Still think it’s one of the elders?”

“Not sure yet. But when I find out, I’m snapping their neck.”

Atlas didn’t blink at the threat. We’d seen enough blood together to know I wasn’t joking.

“Alright,” he folded the map, “I’ll get this to Enzo.”

He turned to leave but paused at the door, looking over his shoulder.

“Just… whatever you’re doing with Lisa—make sure you’re not confusing her. She’s not ready for mixed signals, Ash.”

I clenched my jaw. “There’s nothing going on.”

He smirked. “Sure.”

Then he left.

I stood alone in the room again, suddenly aware of how quiet it felt.

Too quiet.

I looked at the tea on the tray. Cold now. Forgotten.

Just like that night at the club.

Just like the girl who kissed me with the same lips she had the first time.

And still didn’t remember.

I didn’t know if that made me want to scream or laugh.