Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 71

Alpha Rowland's POV

When I arrived at the pack house, the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. I could still hear whispers from the corridors—servants pretending to busy themselves while their eyes followed me. They thought I didn’t notice, but I did. I always did.

I strode past them without a word, my boots echoing on the polished floor. My Beta, Kumar, trailed close behind, though I could feel his disapproval radiating from every step. I didn’t care. Not today.

“Irene,” I barked, my voice carrying through the hall. The nearest servants froze, staring at me as though unsure whether to move.

“Yes, Alpha?” one of them stammered.

“Drag her to her room,” I ordered coldly. “Lock her in. No food, no water.”

The gasp from the servant was audible, but I didn’t repeat myself. I didn’t need to. My words were law. “Since she enjoys making a fool out of me in public, she can take pride in starving.”

“Alpha…” Kumar’s voice was low, almost cautious, as if he knew he was walking on dangerous ground. “Perhaps—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off, my eyes snapping toward him. “Do not attempt to reason with me right now, Kumar.”

“She’s still your—”

“She’s a disgrace,” I interrupted sharply, my tone final. “And I will not discuss this further.”

Kumar’s mouth tightened into a thin line, but he stepped back. He was old, wiser in years than me, but he had served me long enough to know when I was in no mood for counsel.

The servants hesitated for a moment longer before moving quickly. I could hear Irene’s muffled protests from down the hall as they pulled her along. She called my name once—half desperation, half defiance—but I didn’t even glance her way. I kept walking, straight into my study.

Once inside, I slammed the door shut and crossed the room in long strides. The familiar scent of leather-bound books and aged whiskey greeted me, but even the sanctuary of my study felt smaller today. I poured myself a drink, though I knew it would do nothing to dull the storm raging in me.

She had humiliated me. In front of others. That was the one line she should never have crossed.

I had barely settled into my chair when the door creaked open. A young servant stepped in, her eyes downcast.

“Alpha…” she murmured. “A messenger has just arrived. He says these are gifts for Lady Irene, from Alpha Bryan.”

I frowned, my temper cooling just enough to take interest. “From Bryan?”

“Yes, Alpha.” She set a large, ornate box on my desk, bowing slightly before retreating.

I stared at it for a moment. The box was expensive—black lacquered wood with gold trim, the kind of presentation that screamed both arrogance and wealth. Slowly, I opened it.

Inside, folded with precision, was a wedding gown. The fabric shimmered in the lamplight, pure white with intricate embroidery along the hem. Beside it lay a set of jewelry—diamonds and sapphires that caught the light like shards of ice.

A small envelope sat on top. I opened it and scanned the note.

*“For Lady Irene. The wedding will be held next weekend. Preparations are already in motion.”*

No signature, but none was needed. Bryan’s arrogance was in every stroke of the pen.

I set the note down slowly, my jaw tightening. Bryan. That snake. He’d always been ambitious, but this… this was bold even for him. Sending her a wedding gown without my consent? Making it clear to everyone that she was to be his?

I leaned back in my chair, my fingers drumming against the desk. The implication was obvious—this wasn’t just about Irene. This was a move against me. Against my control. Against my authority.

Before I could think further, my phone rang. The name flashing across the screen made my eyes narrow. Alpha Baron.

I answered. “Baron.”

“Rowland,” he said, his tone brisk. “I assume you’ve received Bryan’s little ‘gift’?”

“I have,” I replied. My voice was calm, but it took effort to keep it that way.

“He’s making his move. The boy’s gaining influence fast, and if we’re not careful, he’ll have enough power to challenge the council itself.”

“And you think marrying Irene is part of his plan?”

“I don’t think, Rowland—I know. You and I both understand what this means. If he gets a public union with someone from your pack, it’s not just a marriage—it’s an alliance. One that tips the balance in his favor.”

I glanced at the gown again, my teeth grinding together. “He won’t get it.”

“Not unless we let him. Which is why I’m calling. I want you to make a trip to my pack. We need to discuss the other arrangements in person. This… situation is moving faster than I anticipated, and the longer we wait, the harder it will be to control him.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “You think we can stop him?”

“I think,” Baron said slowly, “that we can slow him down. But only if we act now. Bryan’s standing is growing. The whispers are getting louder. If we don’t tighten our hold, we’ll wake up one day to find the boy dictating terms to us.”

I exhaled through my nose, weighing my options. Baron was no saint, but he understood power plays better than most. And he was right—Bryan’s stunt today was more than arrogance. It was a declaration.

“I’ll come,” I said finally.

“Good. Leave soon,” he replied. “The sooner we have a plan, the better.”

When the call ended, I set my phone down and sat in silence for a moment. My gaze drifted back to the gown, its perfect folds mocking me. Irene might think she had some choice in this, but she didn’t. She was part of my pack, under my roof, and by my rules.

Bryan wanted to use her? Fine. He could try. But he’d find out soon enough that taking something from me was not so simple.

There was a knock at the door.

“What is it?” I snapped.

Kumar stepped inside, his expression guarded. “I hear Baron called you.”

“He did.”

“And?”

“I’m going to his pack,” I said simply.

Kumar’s eyes flickered toward the open box on my desk. “Bryan’s getting bolder.”

“I noticed.”

“Rowland,” Kumar said quietly, “be careful. Bryan’s not the type to make a move without a trap waiting. If he’s sending gifts openly, it means he’s confident. Overconfident men can be dangerous, but they can also be unpredictable.”

I studied my Beta for a moment. For all our disagreements earlier, I valued his insight. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He hesitated, then added, “And Irene?”

“She stays locked up until I return,” I said without hesitation. “No exceptions.”

Kumar gave a slight nod but didn’t hide the disapproval in his eyes. “Understood.”

When he left, I sat back once more, staring at the gown, the jewelry, and the note. My mind was already moving ahead, calculating possibilities, imagining conversations with Baron, considering what Bryan’s next move might be.

He thought he could play this game. He thought he could take something from me without consequence.

He was wrong.