Elowen’s POV The morning came, but it didn’t feel like the start of a new day. It felt like the beginning of something darker, something powerful, something that would change everything. I stood in front of the mirror, taking in the reflection staring back at me. I had chosen my clothes carefully today. A tight, black leather jacket clung to my body, showing off my curves. My shirt underneath was dark and fitted, and the jeans hugged my legs just right. I wanted to show them—show all of them—that I wasn’t the fragile, broken girl they thought I was. My makeup was bold, my lips a deep shade of crimson, my eyes smoky and intense. I wanted to make an impression, leave a mark. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but smirk. This wasn’t just a new outfit. This was a declaration. "Let them look," I muttered to my reflection. "Let them all stare." I left my room and made my way to the academy, the sound of my boots echoing in the empty halls. My heart raced in ant
Elowen's POV The tension in the air was thick as I made my way through the halls, my heels clicking against the marble floor. The whispers continued behind me, but I paid them no mind. My focus was on one thing only: the game I was playing, the plan I had set in motion, and the power I was slowly reclaiming for myself. Every move I made, every word I spoke—it was all a calculated step toward my ultimate goal. And today, I’d made a significant move. Ranon had been quiet ever since our encounter, his silence telling me everything I needed to know. The way he looked at me, the way his gaze lingered longer than it should have—he was intrigued, and that gave me the upper hand. As I turned the corner toward the courtyard, I saw him again. Ranon. This time, though, he was with his brothers. Alaric, Theron, and Kael were standing in a tight circle, their postures stiff and their conversations muted. But as soon as I entered the space, their heads turned. The moment I laid eyes on th
Elowen’s POV The sun was setting as I walked through the academy grounds, the golden light casting long shadows across the path. My thoughts were racing, but my mind kept returning to one single point: revenge. Everything had led to this moment, to the game I was about to play. No more hesitation. No more fear. It had been a day since I stood before the triplets, made my bold statement, and I could feel the change in the air. The tension was palpable, swirling around me like a storm ready to burst. The whispers had intensified, and I knew they were watching. But the look in their eyes now wasn’t one of control or superiority—it was uncertainty. And that... that felt damn good. As I made my way to the training grounds, I could hear their voices before I saw them. Ranon’s deep tone, Alaric’s mocking laughter, and Theron’s quiet words that I couldn’t quite make out. I didn’t need to know exactly what they were saying. I could feel their eyes on me, following my every move as I approa
Elowen’s POV I stormed out of the academy, my thoughts a swirl of anger and determination. I couldn’t stand it anymore—the triplets, their arrogance, their smug faces. They didn’t understand what I was capable of. But I was about to make them. The path through the woods was familiar, almost comforting in a way. The thick trees shielded me from the world, and I welcomed the solitude. I needed to think, to plan my next move. I was done being the victim. It was time to take control of my own fate. As I approached the secluded cabin where my mother had stayed in hiding all these years, I felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. The resentment toward my father, the betrayal, the isolation—I felt it all. But I couldn’t afford to let those feelings overwhelm me now. I had a bigger purpose. I knocked three times on the heavy wooden door before it creaked open, and there she was—my mother. Her eyes, the same as mine, held a depth of wisdom and sorrow, but there was a quiet strength in them
Elowen’s POV The next morning, I walked into the academy with my head held high, my mother’s words echoing in my mind. They fear you because they know your potential. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like the weak, humiliated girl they wanted me to be. Today, I wasn’t going to let anyone step on me. Not anymore. The hallway buzzed with students, the usual murmurs and whispers filling the air. As I strode down the corridor, all eyes turned toward me, some lingering longer than usual. I ignored them, focusing on my newfound determination. And then she appeared—Lisa. Her sickly sweet voice rang out as she stepped into my path, her perfectly manicured nails clutching a notebook she held as though it were a weapon. “Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Lisa sneered, her lips curling in that familiar condescending smirk. “The academy’s favorite little charity case.” I stopped, my eyes locking onto hers. “Move, Lisa.” My voice was calm, steady, but
Elowen’s POV The tension from the hallway still buzzed under my skin as I walked briskly toward the nearest exit. The cool air from the rain earlier seemed like the only thing that could calm me. My fingers trembled, but not from fear—it was the adrenaline, the fire still coursing through me after everything that had just unfolded. "Elowen!" I ignored the voice calling my name, the sharp tone unmistakably his. I quickened my pace, my boots clicking against the polished floor. “Don’t walk away from me,” Alaric growled behind me, the commanding power in his voice making my steps falter. I stopped but didn’t turn around. “What do you want, Alaric?” I asked, my voice cold, trying to mask the storm of emotions threatening to break loose. Suddenly, I felt his hand on my wrist, firm yet not painful. He spun me around to face him, his towering frame inches away from mine. His dark eyes burned with something I couldn’t quite place—anger, frustration, and something deeper, more dange
Elowen’s POV The hallway felt like it was closing in around me as I stormed out, the taste of Alaric’s kiss still lingering on my lips. My hand trembled as I pressed it against my mouth, trying to erase the memory of his touch, his intensity, the vulnerability in his voice when he said he couldn’t stay away. I hated him. I had to. He was my enemy, the man who had humiliated and broken me countless times. But that kiss—it wasn’t just heat or passion. It was something deeper, something that scared me more than all the pain he had ever caused. The rain outside had started again, but I didn’t care. I pushed through the heavy doors of the academy and let the cold droplets soak me. The chill grounded me, gave me a focus as my emotions threatened to spiral out of control. "Elowen." His voice followed me, deep and commanding, but this time it wasn’t filled with anger. There was a softness in it that made my chest tighten. I didn’t turn around, refusing to let him see the turmoil he w
Elowen’s POV I stormed down the hallway, my breathing uneven as I tried to shake off the weight of his words. His voice, his touch, his confession—it was too much. He didn’t deserve to have this kind of power over me, and yet he did. “Damn you, Alaric,” I whispered under my breath, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I reached the academy courtyard, where the rain had finally begun to lighten. Students milled around, their eyes darting to me, their whispers following my every step. It didn’t matter. Let them gossip. Let them judge. Nothing they said could hurt me more than he already had. But my steps faltered when I saw him again. Alaric. He was leaning against one of the tall stone pillars, his dark eyes locked onto me the second I stepped outside. His expression was unreadable, a mix of longing, regret, and something else I couldn’t place. "Elowen," he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise of the courtyard like a blade. I froze, my fists clenching at my sides.
Elowen’s POV We sat like that for a long time, our hands clasped across the cool wood of the kitchen table, the silence a comfortable tapestry woven with unspoken affection and shared understanding. The gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway marked the slow passage of the late hour, each tick a quiet affirmation of the peaceful intimacy that enveloped us. The moonlight continued its silent vigil through the arched window, bathing the deserted kitchen in a soft, ethereal glow. Alaric’s thumb continued its slow, soothing strokes across the back of my hand, a simple gesture that spoke volumes of his quiet tenderness. His silver eyes, still softened by the late hour, held a steady gaze, a silent reassurance that transcended the need for words. In that moment, the complexities of our lives, the ever-present awareness of the triplets’ possessiveness, the weight of the Academy’s scrutiny – all of it seemed to recede, leaving only the profound connection between Alaric and m
Elowen’s POV The remainder of the evening passed with a renewed sense of quiet solidarity. The brief intrusion by Lysander had served as a stark reminder of the outside world’s perception of our unconventional bond, but it had also solidified the unwavering unity between the triplets and me. Ranon’s possessive hand never left mine, Alaric’s protective arm remained draped across my shoulders, and Theron’s occasional sardonic remarks were now laced with an extra layer of territoriality. Later, as the common room emptied and the Academy settled into its nightly quiet, we retreated to the triplets’ suite. The familiar comfort of their shared living space, the scent of their combined pheromones a soothing balm to my senses, eased the lingering tension of the day. Ranon had built a roaring fire in the hearth, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Alaric was meticulously cleaning his blades, the rhythmic shick-shick of the whetstone a familiar sound. Theron was
Elowen’s POV The night with Ranon was a whirlwind of raw sensation and possessive tenderness. His touch was demanding, his kisses branding, each caress a silent claim. Yet, beneath the fierce exterior, there was a surprising gentleness, a deep-seated need to connect on a level that transcended mere physicality. We lost ourselves in each other, the cool stone of the gazebo a stark contrast to the burning heat of our bodies entwined under the watchful gaze of the moon. When dawn finally broke, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and gold, I awoke nestled in his arms, the lingering scent of our passion clinging to the air. He was still asleep, his dark hair tousled, his strong arms wrapped protectively around me. A sense of deep contentment settled within me, a quiet understanding of the intricate tapestry of my relationships with the triplets. Each connection was unique, each filled a different part of me, and last night had been a powerful reminder of the intense, undeniable bond
Elowen’s POV The rest of the day at the Academy passed in a blur of lectures and drills, each moment punctuated by the subtle awareness of the triplets’ watchful gazes. Ranon’s hand never strayed far, a possessive warmth against my skin. Alaric’s silver eyes followed me with a quiet intensity, a silent promise of unwavering support. Theron’s sharp observations and sardonic remarks were always directed my way, a constant, teasing reminder of our intertwined lives. The undercurrent of the morning’s events lingered, a subtle shift in the way the other students interacted with me. There was a newfound respect, tinged with a healthy dose of fear, in their eyes. Caelum’s defeat at my hands had clearly sent a ripple through the Academy’s hierarchy. As dusk began to paint the sky in hues of fiery orange and soft violet, we found ourselves in the training gardens, a secluded sanctuary tucked away behind the main buildings. The air was fragrant with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and da
Elowen’s POV The air in the Academy’s combat hall, a vast chamber usually echoing with the clang of steel and the grunts of exertion, crackled with a palpable, almost electric tension even before Professor Lyra’s crisp voice sliced through the anticipatory silence. I sat wedged between Alaric and Theron on the long, polished wooden bench that lined the edge of the expansive sparring floor. Ranon, ever the sentinel, hadn’t allowed me more than a few feet of breathing room since the charged intimacy of the rooftop. His calloused fingers, possessive and reassuring, grazed the back of my hand every few heartbeats, a silent, tactile reminder to both himself and anyone watching that I was still within his orbit—still his. But the moment Caelum stepped onto the gleaming sparring floor, a ripple of altered energy spread through the room, a subtle shift in the students’ collective focus. He moved with a predatory grace, his tall, muscular frame encased in black training leathers that seemed
Elowen's POV Second Round – Alaric. Alaric was already waiting in the center of the mat, rolling his broad shoulders, his dark hair pulled back in a tight knot, his jaw set with a focused determination. His silver eyes were locked on mine – not intense with possessiveness like Ranon’s, not teasingly sharp like Theron’s. Just… intensely focused, a silent promise of a challenging but fair fight. “You okay, sunshine?” he asked softly, his voice a low rumble that only I could hear, even as we began to circle each other, the tension between us a palpable thing. “I’m always okay, Alaric.” The automatic response felt hollow, even to my own ears. “You don’t have to be, you know.” His gaze softened for a fleeting moment, a hint of the gentle soul beneath the stoic exterior. Before I could formulate a response, he struck, his movements fast and powerful, each blow precise and calculated. Alaric fought like a controlled storm – a whirlwind of disciplined chaos. And he always, always pushe
Elowen’s POVThe morning sun, a brazen intruder, spilled through the expansive glass windows of the Academy’s combat arena, painting the polished stone floors in streaks of gold and illuminating the raw tension that already thrummed beneath the surface of the bustling room. The air crackled with a palpable anticipation, a familiar energy that always accompanied combat drills, especially those involving the top-tier Alphas – the triplets.But this morning felt different. The usual undercurrent of excitement was thick with a new layer of scrutiny, a palpable curiosity that had intensified ever since the stolen kisses – Ranon’s desperate claim on the rooftop, Alaric’s gentle solace in the rain-soaked gardens, Theron’s fiery promise in the quiet of his room. Every stolen glance, every shared secret, had seemingly been magnified under the Academy’s ever-watchful eyes.Whispers, sharp and insidious, clung to the edges of the walls like grasping shadows, their hushed tones carrying the weigh
Elowen’s POVThe morning light, sharp and unforgiving, sliced through the tall arched windows of the Academy halls, illuminating the usual early-hour bustle of students shuffling to classes, their hushed whispers and the rhythmic thud of training boots echoing off the ancient stone walls. But this morning, the familiar weight of the Academy’s ever-present scrutiny felt different, amplified by the lingering sensations of the night before.I walked into the classroom, the ghost of Ranon’s calloused hands still imprinted on my skin, the phantom warmth of his possessive grip a constant reminder. The echo of his desperate, hungry kiss still lingered on my lips, a secret fire that threatened to betray the tremor in my hands. It was a different kind of awareness that accompanied me now, a knowledge shared in the darkness, a boundary crossed under the silent watch of the stars.He sat near the back of the spacious classroom, his chair tilted back at that characteristic, precarious angle that
Elowen’s POV “Ranon,” I breathed, my voice a ragged whisper, a plea that echoed the desperate yearning in the depths of my soul. The question in his burning golden eyes needed no verbal answer; the overwhelming need within me was a language all its own. In a single, fluid movement that spoke of his inherent strength and a sudden, fierce urgency, he swept me off the cold stone wall, his powerful arms cradling my weight as if I were no more than a feather. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, a silent, primal claiming, a desperate embrace that mirrored the magnetic pull between us. He carried me with a focused intensity to the center of the rooftop, where a small, timeworn stone bench sat nestled against the crumbling outer wall, a silent witness to countless nights under the watchful gaze of the stars. He lowered me carefully onto the smooth, flat surface, the ancient stone instantly cold against my heated skin, a stark contrast to the inferno raging within me. He stepped