A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Maria.

I slipped away quietly, my steps unsteady as I searched for a place where no one would see me break. The laughter and music from the hall faded with every step until I found a narrow, hidden corner tucked between cold stone walls. The moment I was alone, the strength I’d been forcing myself to hold onto shattered.

I slid down slowly, my back pressing against the wall as silent sobs tore out of my chest. I covered my mouth with my hand, but it didn’t stop the pain from spilling over. Tears streamed freely, hot and relentless, soaking into my palms as my shoulders shook. I cried until my chest burned, until my throat ached, until there was nothing left to hold back.

I didn’t even know why I was crying.

That was the worst part.

There was no single wound I could point to, no clear reason I could name. Yet the pain inside me was real, heavy, crushing, as if something vital had been torn loose in my chest. It throbbed with every breath I took, reminding me that no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, it existed.

My life felt unbearably miserable at that moment, trapped and suffocating.

All I wanted was to escape, to run far away from the pack, from the Alphas, from the invisible chains wrapped tightly around my fate. I had tried before. God knew I had tried. But no matter how hard I fought, I always ended up back in the same place, staring at the same walls.

Five more years.

The thought alone made my stomach twist painfully. Five more years of serving the Alphas to repay a debt I never asked for, a debt that was forced onto me like a curse. A debt that stole my freedom, my choices, my future. No matter how unfair it was, no matter how deeply it broke me, it was a reality I couldn’t escape.

Not yet.

Eventually, the tears slowed, turning into broken sniffles. My chest still felt tight, my heart sore and exhausted, but I forced myself to breathe. Slowly, I lifted my hands and wiped my face, brushing away the wetness with the back of my sleeve. My eyes burned and felt swollen, but I didn’t bother checking my reflection. I already knew how wrecked I must look.

I sniffed again, swallowing hard as I gathered what little strength I had left.

I needed to leave the venue.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the air too thick to breathe properly. Without looking back, I pushed myself up and walked away, my feet carrying me automatically toward the only place that felt remotely safe, my room.

Each step felt heavy, but familiar. I kept my head down, avoiding anyone who might stop me, my mind fixed on one thing only: distance. Distance from the celebration. Distance from the pain.

I was just a short distance from my room when I collided with someone.

The impact was gentle but unexpected, forcing me to stagger back slightly. I looked up, and froze.

"Noah."

His brows knitted together instantly as his eyes scanned my face. "Maria," he said softly, concern filling his voice. "Are you okay?"

I didn’t answer.

He stepped closer, his expression darkening when he took in my swollen eyes, my flushed cheeks, the way I was trembling despite trying to stand still. "Your eyes are swollen," he said quietly. "What’s going on?"

I stared at him.

The words were right there, pressing against my lips, begging to be released. But I didn’t trust myself. If I spoke, if I made even the smallest sound, I knew I would break all over again. Another dam would burst, and I didn’t think I could survive another wave of tears.

So I stayed silent.

Noah studied me for a moment longer, his gaze searching, almost desperate, as if he was trying to read answers I couldn’t give. Then he spoke again, his voice lowered this time.

"Maria... why don’t you take my offer and leave with me?"

My heart skipped painfully.

He searched my eyes, his sincerity unmistakable, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I knew the truth even without saying it out loud. I couldn’t follow him. Even if I wanted to, especially if I wanted to, Anabel would never allow it.

Silence stretched between us.

Noah’s jaw tightened. Frustration flickered across his face before settling into something firmer, more resolved. "Fine," he said sharply, a trace of anger slipping into his voice. "I’ve made my decision."

He took a step back, his eyes still locked onto mine. "I will definitely find a way to make you leave with me."

Before I could react, before I could stop him, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the corridor, my heart pounding harder than before.

And somehow, the emptiness inside me grew even deeper.

I let out a slow, shaky breath the moment his footsteps faded down the corridor. Relief washed over me first, thin, fragile, but real. At least Noah hadn’t forced me to speak. At least he hadn’t pressed harder when he must have seen how close I was to breaking. For that, I was grateful.

But guilt followed almost immediately, heavy and uncomfortable in my chest.

I had said nothing. Not a single word. I had stood there and allowed his concern to hang uselessly in the air, unanswered and unacknowledged. In my silence, I had reduced his worry to nothing, as though it didn’t matter, almost as if I had made him look foolish for caring in the first place. The thought stung. Noah didn’t deserve that. He never did.

Yet no matter how guilty I felt, I couldn’t deny one truth, Noah was damn persistent. Even when I gave him nothing, he still vowed to find a way. That alone scared me more than it comforted me.

I pushed the thought aside and entered my room, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. The familiar space wrapped around me like a cocoon, quiet and dim, and the tension I’d been carrying all day finally caught up to me. My legs felt weak as I crossed the room, and the moment my back touched the mattress, it was as if my body surrendered completely.

I didn’t even remember closing my eyes.

Sleep dragged me under instantly, deep and heavy. My mind blurred, my thoughts dissolving into nothingness as exhaustion claimed me. I sank into my dreams without resistance, my breathing evening out, a soft snore escaping me as the world slipped away.

I couldn’t tell how long I’d been gone.

Minutes. Hours. Time lost all meaning.

A sharp knock shattered the darkness.

I jerked awake with a gasp, my heart slamming violently against my ribs. Pain shot through my head as I sat up too fast, a dull ache spreading across my skull. My body felt stiff and sore, like I had just fought a brutal war and lost. Every muscle protested as I swung my legs over the bed, groaning softly.

Another knock followed, firmer this time.

I rubbed my eyes, blinking through the lingering haze of sleep as I staggered toward the door. My head throbbed, my limbs heavy, my mind struggling to catch up with reality. When I pulled the door open, a man stood before me, his posture rigid, his expression blank.

A rogue.

The tag pinned to his chest read 245.

"Rogue 456," he said formally, his voice flat and emotionless. "You are being summoned by Alpha Adrien. He asked for you to come to his chamber now."

For a second, I simply stared at him, my mind slow and foggy.

Then I nodded. "Okay," I answered quietly.

He didn’t linger. The moment the message was delivered, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing faintly down the hall.

I closed the door slowly and leaned against it, suddenly very aware of the silence around me. That was when it hit me, I had slept for hours. The light outside had dimmed, the air heavier, signaling how late it had become.

And that realization made my stomach drop.

Why would Adrien send for me at this hour?

The question barely finished forming when a sudden memory slammed into me like an electric wave. My breath caught, and I gasped sharply, my hand flying to my chest.

"No... no, no, no way," I whispered, shaking my head as panic crept in. "I won’t be going there. He’s already engaged."

The words tumbled out in a rush, desperate and shaky. It was late, far too late. Being seen with him now would only invite trouble, whispers, assumptions I couldn’t afford. I glanced around the room instinctively, half-expecting Galen to be there, to have overheard my outburst.

But she wasn’t.

The room was empty.

Where could she be at this time?

The thought lingered briefly before I forced it away. I didn’t have the luxury to worry about that now. My mind was already spiraling, caught in a battle I couldn’t seem to escape.

Go.

Don’t go.

The words echoed relentlessly in my head, clashing over and over again. If I went, I risked everything, my safety, my peace, my fragile sense of control. If I didn’t, the consequences could be just as severe. Refusing an Alpha’s summons was not something a rogue like me could do lightly.

I paced the room, my steps uneven, my heart pounding louder with every second that passed. Fear tugged at me from one side, duty from the other, each pulling hard enough to tear me apart.

Finally, I stopped.

I straightened slowly, drawing in a deep breath as I made my decision.

I would go.

Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. And this time, I would make it clear. Whatever Adrien intended, whatever he thought he could demand of me, I would tell him plainly.

I wouldn’t be able to do it.

With that resolve burning quietly inside me, I stepped forward, opened the door, and walked out to face whatever awaited me next.