A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Maria.

My mind was in complete chaos.

Noise surrounded me, cheers, whispers, the restless snorts of horses, but none of it truly registered. All I could focus on was one thing.

Noah.

My eyes kept scanning the venue again and again, moving from one Alpha to another, from the stands to the entrance, from the entrance back to the throne area.

He was nowhere.

Each second that passed made the hollow feeling in my chest grow heavier.

A dull ache spread slowly, settling deep beneath my ribs. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to see him here until he wasn’t.

And in that painful clarity, I admitted something to myself.

I wanted Noah to win.

Not anyone else.

But my choice didn’t matter.

This wasn’t about what I wanted. It was about strength, victory and dominance.

And he wasn’t even present.

My shoulders slumped slightly as I lowered my face, staring at the ground beneath my feet. What was the point of watching this competition when the one I silently chose wasn’t in it?

Why stand here and pretend I was neutral?

Why sit through eight rounds when my heart had already picked someone who wasn’t fighting?

The cheers around me felt distant now.

Unimportant.

"A countdown to three and the game starts," Beta Torin’s voice rang out clearly, snapping through the air.

The crowd quieted instantly.

My pulse thudded painfully in my ears.

"1..."

I closed my eyes briefly.

"2..."

"Wait!"

The voice cut through everything, sharp, commanding, urgent. It didn’t simply rise above the noise; it sliced through it, clean and undeniable, forcing the air itself to still.

My eyes flew open.

The low murmur of conversation faltered. The faint clinking of glasses ceased. Even the soft rustling of leaves in the garden seemed to pause in obedience to that single word. Every head turned in unison toward the far end of the venue, drawn by the authority threaded through that voice.

My heart stumbled.

Slowly—too slowly—my gaze followed.

And the moment my eyes locked onto the figure standing there....My breath caught.

It wasn’t a gentle pause. It was a sharp, painful halt, as if the air had been stolen straight from my lungs. The world around me blurred at the edges, faces fading into nothing, colors dissolving into background noise. There was only him.

Noah.

Tears welled instantly, rising so fast it startled me. They spilled over before I could blink them back, sliding down my cheeks in warm, unchecked trails. I didn’t bother to wipe them away. I couldn’t.

They weren’t tears of sorrow.

They weren’t born of fear.

They were something else entirely, something bright and overwhelming. Joy. Relief so fierce it felt like it might split my chest open. The kind of relief that floods you when you’ve been bracing for the worst, when you’ve already started mourning something that hasn’t even fully ended.

Because standing there....Was Noah.

He had come.

The truth of it echoed through me, louder than the gasp that trembled past my lips. He was here. Not absent. Not distant. Not gone.

He hadn’t backed out.

He hadn’t chosen to disappear quietly into pride or pain.

He hadn’t given up.

Not on the competition.

Not on... this.

My fingers trembled slightly at my sides as I took him in, as if I needed to confirm he was real and not something my desperate heart had conjured. He stood at the edge of the garden, just beyond the rows of neatly arranged chairs and trimmed hedges, where the late light cast soft shadows along the grass.

His chest rose and fell, a little heavier than usual, each breath visible in the steady lift of his shoulders.

But something tightened in my chest.

Something wasn’t right.

Even from this distance, I could see it.

He looked pale.

Not just tired. Not simply serious.

Pale.

The color that usually warmed his skin seemed drained, leaving him almost ashen beneath the light. His jaw was set, but there was a strain there I didn’t recognize. His eyes, still fixed forward, held a sharpness, but beneath it flickered something faint, something fragile.

My joy didn’t disappear, but it shifted, edged now with unease.

He had come.

He was here.

But as I stood there with tears still slipping down my face, my heart swelling and tightening all at once, I couldn’t ignore the quiet, persistent whisper inside me.

He looked too pale.

His usual steady presence seemed slightly strained, like he was pushing himself beyond something.

Concern stabbed through my relief. I wanted to run to him, to ask if he was okay, to touch his face, his hands, to see if he was hurt or unwell.

But I couldn’t.

Not here.

Not in front of everyone.

Our status stood like an invisible wall between us.

So I stayed where I was.

Frozen.

Watching.

Noah didn’t hesitate. He moved swiftly, purposefully, heading straight toward the remaining stand. His movements were controlled, though I could see a faint stiffness in the way he walked.

He grabbed the reins of the last horse without ceremony, mounting it in one fluid motion that silenced any doubts about his capability.

The crowd began murmuring again, surprise, approval, curiosity.

"For this round, all Alphas are present," Beta Torin announced firmly.

A wave of anticipation swept across the garden. The energy shifted again, sharper now, electric.

"The game starts at the count of three."

My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Beta Torin raised his hand.

"1..."

The horses pawed at the ground.

"2..."

I held my breath.

"3..."

"Start!"

The word exploded into the air, and instantly, the horses shot forward the instant the signal was given, hooves pounding violently against the earth as dust rose into the air in thick clouds. The sound alone made my heart race, thunderous, powerful, relentless. The riders leaned low over their horses, bodies moving in perfect rhythm with the animals beneath them.

Daniel took the lead almost immediately.

A wave of cheers erupted from the side where his supporters stood, voices rising in excitement and pride.

I swallowed hard.

Daniel was a genuinely nice person, kind and steady. He had treated me like a friend from the beginning, never forcing, never demanding. In these past few days, when everything felt uncertain and strained, he had been the only consistent presence beside me.

And yet...As I watched him ride ahead, my chest felt heavy.

I appreciated him deeply.

But appreciation was not the same thing as choice.

If I were to be honest with myself, if everything were stripped away and I was allowed to decide freely, I would prefer to follow Noah home. Even if our relationship was complicated. Even if he confused me. Even if he made my heart ache.

I knew him more.

Or at least, I felt like I did.

He was familiar in a way Daniel wasn’t.

Three minutes into the race, the positions began to shift.

The dust settled just enough for me to see more clearly, and that was when Damien surged forward, overtaking Daniel with impressive control and strength.

The crowd exploded.

"Alpha Damien! Alpha Damien!"

The chanting grew louder, rhythmic, almost overwhelming.

My stomach sank.

If Damien won....There would be no escaping this pack, no shifting paths, no uncertain future.

Everything would be sealed.

Two more minutes passed in a blur of hooves and shouting when suddenly....Daniel’s posture faltered.

I saw it before I fully processed it, his body jerked slightly, and then...he fell.

He tumbled off his horse, hitting the ground hard and clutching his stomach tightly.

A collective gasp tore through the crowd like a ripple of shock.

My breath caught painfully in my throat.

"Alpha Daniel!" someone shouted.

But no one could interfere.

A game was a game.

Rules were rules.

Officials quickly rushed onto the track, pulling him away before another horse could trample him. He was still clutching his stomach, face twisted in pain.

I stood frozen.

Helpless.

The race continued.

And then...Noah surged forward.

He closed the gap between himself and Damien with surprising speed, urging his horse onward with fierce determination.

The crowd’s energy shifted instantly.

"Alpha Damien!"

"Alpha Noah!"

The chants clashed against each other, supporters screaming for their chosen Alpha.

My pulse pounded violently in my ears as my eyes remained locked on the track.

I couldn’t blink.

I couldn’t breathe properly.

It was just the two of them now, neck and neck.

And then...I saw it.

It happened in a split second.

Darren’s horse moved slightly closer to Noah’s, too close. At first, it looked accidental, but it wasn’t.

I saw Darren’s foot shift, his shoe has spikes which extended just enough, just enough to clip, just enough to interfere. It was subtle, careful, something no one else would likely notice.

But I did.

My eyes widened.

A sharp gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Oh shit.

Damn you, Darren.

Rage flared inside me, hot and immediate.

He was cheating.