Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By Lycan Quadruplets
The ground became slick with their bodies, the metallic stench of death heavy in the air.
Still, they came. Lines of them, desperate, reckless, charging into the maw of their own deaths. My claws danced, my fangs tore, my body moved like the storm I had become. Some begged for mercy as they stumbled back, but mercy was a luxury I had no intention of offering. Not when Lisa’s screams still echoed in my skull.
And then I heard it—his voice. Malrik.
It slid into my head like oil on water, thick, foul, invading what was mine.