Rejected By My Mate; Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets Chapter 90

Alpha Enzo's POV

I rubbed my temples as I dropped the last stack of papers into the tray. My eyes burned from staring at contracts, financial logs, border patrol reports, and the endless stream of signatures that never seemed to end. Being Alpha wasn’t just about authority or strength—it was about paperwork. And tonight, I felt buried under it.

I leaned back against my chair and stretched, feeling my bones crack. A long sigh escaped me. Finally, I was done—at least for now. The room was quiet except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. My wolf stirred faintly in the back of my mind, restless.

“Fresh air,” I muttered under my breath, pushing myself off the chair.

I needed it. Maybe even a quick shower before the night swallowed me whole. My body craved movement after hours of being bent over reports. The corridors of the pack house were dimly lit, silent except for my own footsteps echoing lightly against the polished wooden floor.

That was when I found myself passing by her door.

Lisa’s.

I froze without meaning to. My head turned automatically, as though my body had a will separate from mine. Her scent drifted from behind that door—sweet, intoxicating, warm in a way that made my chest tighten. My wolf surged instantly, snapping at me, restless.

“Mate.”

The word pulsed through my mind, hot and demanding.

I clenched my jaw, fists tightening. I knew it already. I had known from the first day. But unlike most wolves who treasured the mate bond, who built their whole life around it, I had shoved it aside. I didn’t want that tie to control me. I didn’t want anyone to dictate my strength, my choices, my future.

Still, here I was. Stuck outside her door, breathing in her scent like a fool, unable to keep walking.

I should have walked past. But instead, I stepped closer.

The closer I got, the more her scent wrapped around me, burning my veins, teasing my wolf. He growled inside me, urging me to claim her, to take what was ours. I pressed my hand briefly against the wall, grounding myself. My mind warred with my instincts.

Just as I lifted my hand, torn between knocking or retreating, the door swung open.

Something hard slammed against my forehead.

The world tilted instantly. White-hot pain seared my skull, and my vision blurred at the edges. Warm liquid trickled down my temple, and it didn’t take a genius to know it was blood.

“Enzo!”

Lisa’s voice rang out, panicked and sharp, followed by a horrified gasp. She dropped what looked like a heavy book—or maybe a tray, I couldn’t tell in my dizzy haze—and scrambled toward me.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were there—” Her hands were on me instantly, trembling, trying to hold me steady. “I thought—oh God, you’re bleeding!”

I grunted, trying to wave it off. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

“Fine?” Her eyes widened as she pressed her palm against my forehead. Blood smeared across her delicate fingers. “You’re bleeding because of me! I—oh God, I should’ve looked before opening the door.”

“It’s nothing, Lisa,” I murmured, but my wolf purred at her touch, at the way her body pressed so close to mine as she tried to steady me.

“No,” she shook her head stubbornly. “You need first aid. Come inside. Now.”

Before I could argue, she tugged at my arm. For someone so small compared to me, she was strong when determined. My wolf growled low in approval, amused even.

I let her drag me inside.

Her room smelled like her—soft, warm, with a faint trace of flowers that made my head spin worse than the wound. She sat me down on a chair, muttering under her breath, grabbing a small first aid kit from the dresser. Her hands shook slightly as she pulled out antiseptic and bandages.

I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve insisted I didn’t need it. My body healed faster than a human’s anyway, the wound already starting to close. But I didn’t stop her. I couldn’t. Not when her hands touched me so carefully, so nervously, not when her eyes focused entirely on me as though nothing else existed.

Her fingers brushed against my skin as she dabbed at the blood, whispering apologies under her breath. My wolf prowled inside me, restless, claws scraping at the surface of my control.

“Hold still,” she said softly, concentrating.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. But then she leaned closer, so close that her breath fanned against my cheek, so close that I could see the quick flutter of her lashes.

My control snapped.

Before I could think, before I could stop myself, I grabbed her waist and pulled her against me. My lips crashed onto hers, desperate, hungry, claiming.

Her gasp melted against my mouth, her body stiffening in shock. For a fleeting moment, she didn’t move. And then reality struck me like a blade to the chest.

She pulled away abruptly, stumbling back, eyes wide.

I froze, chest heaving, guilt and fire battling inside me.

“I—” My voice was hoarse. “I didn’t mean—Lisa, I…”

She looked at me, flustered, cheeks burning. She didn’t say anything at first, only shook her head and stepped further away, hugging her arms around herself.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, bowing my head. My wolf howled in protest, furious at the apology, but I silenced him. “I shouldn’t have done that. I… came here to check on you. That’s all.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. Her eyes darted anywhere but me.

I couldn’t stay another second. The walls felt too close, her scent too thick, my control too frayed.

So I turned and rushed out.

The corridor felt colder than before, my head still spinning but not from the wound. My wolf raged inside me, cursing, demanding I turn back, take her, claim her.

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I threw myself back into my office, into the only thing that had ever kept me sane—work.

I slammed the door shut, chest heaving, and dropped into my chair. My head throbbed, but I shoved the pain aside, pulling the next stack of reports toward me. Paperwork. Numbers. Patrol schedules. Anything but her lips, her scent, the fire that still burned where I had touched her.

My wolf snarled. “Coward.”

Maybe I was.

But burying myself in work was the only way to silence him. The only way to keep myself from going back to her room, knocking on her door, and repeating what I knew I shouldn’t have done.

So I drowned myself in ink and paper until the night swallowed me whole.