Noah.

I cleared my throat the moment the assassins disappeared from sight, their bodies and footsteps fading into the distance until only silence remained.

The sudden battlefield suddenly felt much quieter and the moment I looked up, I realized why.

The quadruplets’ attention was now entirely on me—four pairs of eyes and four unreadable expressions.

Four men who had just stepped into a battle that wasn’t theirs.

I immediately straightened my shoulders, because there was no way I was going to let this become awkward.

"Don’t think saving me would make me feel guilty about having Maria!" I blurted out at once.

The words came out faster than I intended, but I didn’t regret them, not even in the slightest bit.

Because I knew exactly how these things worked.

People did favors, then expected something in return.

And considering the complicated situation surrounding Maria, I wasn’t foolish enough to believe this rescue had come without expectations attached.

At least, that was what I told myself.

For a brief moment, none of them said anything.

Then Adrien scoffed, the sound was sharp and filled with mockery.

"Well, Damien, this is the ingrate you emphasized principles on," he said, his voice dripping with annoyance.

I frowned immediately.

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

Principles?

What principles?

Whatever conversation they had before arriving here clearly had nothing to do with me.

Still, judging from Adrien’s expression, he wasn’t exactly pleased that I was standing here alive.

Not that I cared.

Honestly, I didn’t mind at all.

If he regretted helping me, that was his problem.

"Well, our principles are what make us human, Adrien," Damien replied calmly, his voice lacking the irritation his brother displayed, but somehow that made it worse. "Whether it’s someone we like or dislike doesn’t matter. Whether the person is grateful doesn’t matter either."

Then his gaze settled on me and the disgust in his eyes was impossible to miss.

I felt my jaw tighten.

There was something infuriating about being looked at like that, like I was some unpleasant obligation he had been forced to fulfill.

"I would rather not be human than waste my time on someone ungrateful," Davian declared.

Unlike Damien, he made no effort to hide his anger or his irritation.

Every word came out harsher than the last. His eyes flashed with annoyance before he abruptly turned away and started walking toward his horse.

The conversation was clearly over for him.

I stared after him.

What was with all this drama?

Seriously.

Did I ask anyone to save me?

Did I send them a letter begging for help?

Did I somehow force them to ride all the way here?

No.

So why were they acting as though I owed them some grand emotional reaction?

Or was this all part of some elaborate attempt to make me feel guilty?

If so, they were wasting their time.

Because it wasn’t working, not even a little.

"Let’s go," Aidan said, his voice short and emotionless, as if the words carried no weight at all, as if everything that had just happened meant nothing to him.

Then he followed after Davian without another word, his steps steady and unhurried, already pulling away from the tension that still hung thick in the air behind them.

One by one, they began heading toward their horses, their movements almost synchronized in a quiet, practiced rhythm that made it feel like this decision had already been settled long before I was even given the chance to process it.

And for the first time since this conversation started, my confidence faltered slightly.

It wasn’t obvious at first—just a small, almost invisible crack in the wall I had been holding up. But it was there.

My eyes shifted toward my own horse.

The poor animal stood unevenly, clearly injured, its posture unstable and its breathing heavy. There was no way it could carry me anywhere—not in this state, not across anything resembling distance or safety.

Then I became painfully aware of the blood still staining my clothes.

It clung to me in a way I had ignored earlier, but now it felt impossible to overlook. The wounds I had brushed off during the fight suddenly made themselves known again, as though waiting for this exact moment to remind me of their presence. They felt heavier, sharper, and far more real than they had moments ago.

I watched the brothers continue toward their horses.

Their backs were turned, their focus already shifting away from me, as though I had already been mentally removed from their equation.

Were they seriously leaving me here?

In the middle of nowhere?

My horse was injured.

I was bleeding.

And despite everything I had been telling myself just moments ago, the possibility that they might actually ride away without me suddenly didn’t seem impossible at all. It sat in my chest like a slow, cold realization I couldn’t shake off.

Adrien turned to leave as well, clearly done with both the conversation and my existence. There was no hesitation in him, no second thought reflected in the angle of his shoulders or the direction of his gaze.

His boots had barely taken a few steps when Damien’s voice suddenly rang out across the battlefield.

"Come on, brothers. Let’s just finish what we started."

His words echoed loudly through the otherwise quiet surroundings, cutting through the thinning tension like a blade.

Immediately, the other three stopped.

The reaction was instant.

They turned simultaneously, almost as one unit, and fixed Damien with deadly glares that cut through the air like sharpened blades.

The kind of glares that would have made most people reconsider their life choices on the spot, the kind that silently warned of consequences without a single weapon being raised.

"Are you out of your mind?" they all echoed in unison, their voices overlapping with the same disbelief, the same irritation, and the same refusal to even entertain what he had just said.

For a brief moment, the sight almost distracted me from the pain coursing through my body, as ridiculous as it was that this argument was happening here, now, in the middle of everything.

But Damien didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest.

If anything, he appeared even more determined than before, as though their reaction only reinforced his stance. His expression remained firm and unshaken as he faced his brothers without flinching.

"I am not," he said. Then he paused briefly, letting the silence stretch just enough to draw their attention tighter before continuing. "You can’t just do an incomplete job."

His voice carried steady conviction, the kind that suggested he had already made up his mind long before he ever opened his mouth.

Davian immediately scoffed.

The sound was sharp, loud, and full of disbelief, as if the very idea insulted him.

"Were we hired in the first place?" he asked, raising his chin arrogantly, his tone edged with sarcasm and challenge.

His irritation was obvious.

Every word seemed designed to challenge Damien’s argument.

And while they continued debating, I shifted my weight slightly.

The movement turned out to be a mistake, as a sharp wave of pain tore through my body.

I winced immediately, as my vision flickered.

For a second, I thought it would pass but It didn’t. Instead, the dizziness intensified.

The wounds I had stubbornly ignored throughout the confrontation suddenly demanded attention.

My legs felt heavier and my breathing became uneven. Each breath seemed harder to draw than the last.

I blinked several times, trying to focus on the arguing brothers but their voices were becoming strangely distant.

As though they were standing far away instead of only a few feet from me.

"Can you just listen to yourself, Davian?" Damien asked, his voice reaching me faintly. "When did we become so childish?"

I watched him walk slowly toward his brothers.

Or at least, I thought I did.

Everything had started blurring together and their figures seemed less defined now.

The edges of my vision darkened slightly.

"Get your head straight, Damien, and let’s leave here. We still have more important things to do."

Aidan’s voice sounded firmer than the others.

This time, he mounted his horse, and ghe movement caught my attention briefly.

I tried to focus on him and tried to keep myself alert but my body no longer seemed interested in cooperating.

My knees weakened slightly.

I inhaled deeply, attempting to steady myself but It didn’t help.

The voices around me continued growing fainter. Their conversation became little more than fragments of sound.

Then came silence.

Or perhaps they were still talking.

I honestly couldn’t tell anymore.

The darkness creeping into my vision expanded rapidly, swallowing everything piece by piece.

My body felt strangely light, and weightless and then darkness consumed me completely.

Yet even as consciousness slipped away, I wasn’t entirely alone.

Deep within my subconscious, another voice remained persistent and determined, refusing to surrender.

It was my wolf.

"We can’t die now." He echoed repeatedly through the darkness. "Maria still needs us."

Those last four words became the only thing holding me together as the darkness swallowed everything else.