All Chapters of Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Alpha Enzo's POV I sat behind my desk, my eyes fixed on the endless streams of data glowing across the monitors in front of me. The headquarters was quieter than usual, but I had long since trained myself to live within silence. I thrived in it. Silence never betrayed. Silence never plotted behind one’s back. Silence was loyal, unlike wolves who spoke with smiling mouths but bore daggers behind their teeth.The security updates had just come in from the border patrols. I scrolled through them with a meticulous eye. No rogue activity had been spotted within the last forty-eight hours, but I didn’t trust it. The absence of noise in this world didn’t mean peace—it meant that danger was plotting, waiting for the right opening. I knew that lesson far too well. The reports from the eastern boundary showed some irregular shifts in scent trails. Whoever thought they could slither unnoticed near my land clearly underestimated me.I leaned back in my chair, letting

Enzo's POVHer breathing was soft against my chest, slow and heavy, the kind of rhythm that told me she had fallen into the depths of sleep after exhaustion had stolen every ounce of strength from her. Her lashes rested like shadows against her cheeks, her lips parted slightly, still swollen from the hunger of my mouth earlier.I lay there for a while just staring at her, my arm heavy around her waist, the warmth of her body pressed against mine. There was a time I never thought I’d be capable of this kind of silence, of this kind of stillness. I was a man born for war, bred to carry blood on my hands, to make decisions that could snap necks or save packs. But with her here, draped over me like I was something worth clinging to, it was different.The urge rose in me like it always did—to protect, to claim, to mark her soul as something belonging to me.I bent forward, brushing my lips against her temple first, then her soft hair, inhaling her fain

Third person POV The grand day of the coronation dawned with a sky so bright and clear it seemed as though nature itself wished to bless the new beginning of the Bloodfang pack under Alpha Baron’s chosen successor. The grounds of the pack estate bustled with activity long before the sun had fully risen. Servants moved quickly, setting out long lines of chairs, preparing banners bearing the family crest, and decorating every visible corner with colors that symbolized strength, loyalty, and rebirth. The air was filled with the scent of roasted meat and wildflowers, drifting across the open courtyard where the ceremony would take place. It was the kind of morning that would be remembered in the history of the pack—the day of transition, the day of reconciliation, and the day of unity.By midday, guests had begun to arrive. Delegations from allied packs came in with their alphas and betas, dressed in ceremonial attire. Some came in horse-drawn carriages, others on foo

Third person POVLisa had woken up earlier than usual, stirred by the echoes of laughter and footsteps still roaming in the hallways after the grand celebration of the previous night. Though the pack house had finally quieted, the remnants of festivity lingered everywhere—empty goblets left half-filled with wine, scattered petals from the flower bearers, and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion that clung to the servants who still tidied up what they could before sunrise.She moved slowly down the wide corridor, the coolness of the marble floor biting her feet even through her slippers. Her body felt slightly heavy, though she told herself it was only the lack of sleep. She had insisted on staying until the end of the ceremony, watching Irene take her place beside Bryan with the dignity of a Luna, watching Baron step down with the grace of an alpha who had seen his years. The sight had been emotional, even overwhelming, but what struck her more deeply had been the w

Kael's POV The morning air bit at my skin the moment I stepped out of my chamber. Cold, sharp, crisp—like the world was trying to wake me up by force. But I was already awake long before the first crack of dawn split the sky. Sleep had abandoned me, tugged away by the restless heaviness in my chest, so I did what I always do when thoughts refused to let me rest. I went to the training ground.The gravel crunched under my boots as I walked across the open yard. Torches still flickered around the perimeter, their flames fighting against the dying night. I rolled my shoulders, stretched my neck, let the tension bleed from my body. There was something about the solitude of mornings like this—just me, the cold, and the possibility of bruises—that grounded me.Except this time, I wasn’t alone.Atlas was already there. His silhouette moved like a shadow against the faint glow of dawn, his fists slamming into the padded post with a rhythm too controlled