A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Damien.

I wasn’t happy saving Noah either, but I just couldn’t let my conscience eat me up. The decision still sat heavy in my chest, twisting uncomfortably, like something I had forced myself to swallow without choice. It wasn’t clean, it wasn’t simple, and it certainly wasn’t something I was proud of—but ignoring it would have been worse.

I would not even be able to face Maria once she finds out about this. The thought alone made my stomach tighten. She would definitely hate me more, and honestly, I wouldn’t even blame her. There were some things that, once revealed, changed everything.

"Davian, remember Maria saved you!" I said, as I finally reached them, my steps slightly unsteady as I closed the distance. They were all already seated on their horses, towering above me in their elevated positions like they were ready to leave everything behind. "So you of all people shouldn’t choose who and who not to save!" I yelled, my voice carrying more desperation than I intended, but I didn’t bother correcting it.

"And how did Maria saving me get into this?" Davian asked as he raised his brows in irritation, his tone sharp and immediately dismissive, as though the connection I was making was completely absurd.

Adrein and Aidan also exchanged looks, slow and deliberate, as they stared at me like I had suddenly lost my sense of reasoning, like I was speaking from somewhere far removed from reality.

"Well, that’s because you should know better how she would feel if she finds out about this or Noah dies!" I shot back quickly, my voice tightening as I tried to hold my ground. "You all know her. You know exactly how she is. This isn’t just about Noah—it never was."

Still, none of them said anything.

The silence that followed felt heavier than words. They simply exchanged looks with each other again, silent communication passing between them that I couldn’t fully read but could easily feel.

"I don’t want to imagine, nor see Maria looking hurt in any way," I said again, more firmly this time, as if repeating it would make it more real, more convincing. "And I am sure you all don’t want that either. None of us do."

For a moment, only the sound of shifting horses and distant wind filled the space between us.

"Damn you, Damien!" Davian declared suddenly.

Before I could react, he came down from his horse in a swift, aggressive motion and strode straight toward me. His hand shot out and grabbed my shirt tightly, pulling me forward with enough force that my balance shifted instantly.

"You are an asshole," he said through clenched teeth, shaking me once as if to emphasize every word, his anger burning close enough to feel.

Then, just as abruptly, he released me, letting me stumble slightly back into myself, before turning away without another word and walking toward Noah.

Adrein and Aidan also came down from their horses almost at the same time, their boots hitting the ground with a dull thud before they began heading straight toward me.

Their movements were unhurried, but there was a heaviness in the way they approached, like the decision they were about to make still carried weight even if they had already started accepting it.

"Mr. Too good, how do we save him now?" Adrein asked as he reached me, his voice low and edged with cold sarcasm. His eyes stayed fixed on me with an intensity that made it clear he wasn’t impressed by my earlier insistence. "It’s not like we are healers, even though you want us to pose like heroes," he added, the words rolling off his tongue with deliberate irritation before he broke eye contact and turned away, already walking past me toward Noah as if the conversation no longer deserved his attention.

I breathed a slow sigh of relief at his words, despite the sting in them, because deep down I had been so certain they would eventually come around and think of ways to help him. That was always how it worked with us. No matter how harsh it looked at first, we always found a way.

Together we were strong. Together we were undefeated.

"Don’t look too relaxed yet, Damien," Aidan said suddenly as he stepped closer, his voice quieter but far more deliberate. He reached out and tapped my shoulder lightly at first, almost casually, before his grip tightened just enough to make his point clearer. "We might want to save him, but only the Moon Goddess determines his fate!" he added firmly, his gaze briefly locking with mine as if to remind me of a truth I was trying to ignore.

Then, just as quickly, he released my shoulder and turned away, walking toward Noah as well without waiting for a response.

My shoulders eased a little once his hand left me, and I couldn’t help but let out a small, almost helpless chuckle under my breath. Even if they tried to act all tough and detached, I knew my brothers well. I had seen them long enough to recognize when they were pretending not to care. And deep down, I was certain they were glad I had pushed this, glad I had managed to make them stop and think instead of just walking away.

But one thing was still undeniably true—Noah’s fate was definitely not in our hands.

No matter how much we argued, no matter how much we tried, there were limits we couldn’t cross.

Still, if nothing else, at least it could be said that we tried.

"This is going to be a very long journey," I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else, before finally turning toward them again and shaking my head slightly as I followed after them

I reached them, and I instantly paused the moment my eyes fell on their faces.

There was a shift in the atmosphere that hit me immediately—heavier, more serious. The earlier arguments, the heated exchanges, all of it seemed to have settled into something colder and more practical. It wasn’t just talk anymore. It was reality pressing down on all of us at once.

"This guy is bleeding seriously, Damien," Adrein said as he looked down at Noah, his voice lower now but still firm. There was no exaggeration in his tone—just blunt truth. "Are you sure we can save him? It’s better we save time instead," he added, his jaw tightening slightly as if he already expected the worst outcome.

I raised my brows up slightly, caught off guard by how quickly his stance seemed to shift.

Adrein hadn’t just agreed a minute ago to get to this point only to suddenly start discouraging us now. That wasn’t like him. That wasn’t any of them.

"Can you not start that now, Adrien," I said, letting out a slow, controlled breath as I tried to keep my frustration from spilling over. My fingers flexed slightly at my side as I forced myself to stay composed. "And let’s think."

Davian scoffed immediately at that, the sound sharp, dry, and completely dismissive, like the suggestion itself was insulting.

"Start from where exactly?" he asked, shaking his head slowly as his gaze moved between all of us. There was clear exhaustion in his expression now, as though the situation had already drained him more than he was willing to admit. "Noah has fainted, and we are no real healers." His voice carried a tired finality, heavy with certainty, as if in his mind the argument had already reached its conclusion and there was nothing left to debate.

"Then we move immediately," I replied without hesitation, straightening a little more as I spoke, my tone sharpening with urgency. "To the nearest place we can find someone who can help him. We don’t sit here debating it until it’s too late," I added firmly, letting the weight of my words hang in the air for a moment.

"I am definitely not carrying a dead man on my horse," Aidan said flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

And almost instantly, Adrien and Davian shook their heads in agreement, silently backing him up without even needing to say it out loud.

I took a deep breath and slowly shook my head, forcing myself to calm down. There was no time for this—no time for hesitation, no time for endless back-and-forth. Every second we wasted was another second Noah slipped further away from us.

Without waiting for another argument to rise, I moved.

With whatever strength I had left in me, I bent down and grabbed Noah carefully, pulling his weight toward me. He was heavier than he looked, unresponsive and limp, forcing me to adjust my grip quickly before I lost balance.

Gritting my teeth, I managed to lift him onto my horse, securing him as best as I could. The movement was rushed but controlled, driven more by urgency than anything else.

Then I mounted quickly behind him, steadying myself and tightening my hold.

"Move," I muttered sharply.

And without another word, I followed after my brothers at full speed, the sound of hooves tearing through the ground as we rode forward into the unknown.