Alaric’s POV I should have walked away. I should have let her go, let her drown in whatever twisted game she was playing. But I couldn’t. Not when her scent wrapped around me like a vice, not when her voice slithered into my veins, poisoning every rational thought I had left. She was my mate. And she was ruining me. Her fingers skimmed over my collar, teasing, taunting. Her lips hovered just inches from mine, and my wolf howled in frustration, demanding that I close the distance. "Maybe you should stop resisting, then," she whispered. Fuck. I clenched my jaw, every muscle in my body screaming for restraint. But there was nothing left. She had stripped me bare, torn through every wall I’d built between us. "You think this is a game, don’t you?" I growled, my grip tightening around her arms. She only smiled, slow and dangerous. "Isn’t it?" That was it. That was my breaking point. I yanked her flush against me, crushing my lips to hers in a brutal, punishing ki
Alaric’s POV The moment Elowen walked out of the room, it felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I stood frozen, fists clenched so tightly my knuckles turned white. My heart pounded against my ribs like a war drum, and my wolf—restless, raging—snarled inside me. Go after her. Bring her back. Take what’s ours. “No,” I gritted out, shaking my head. But it wasn’t enough to drown out the undeniable truth pressing into me like a blade. I wanted her. I wanted her in a way that was dangerous, in a way that made me feel powerless. And I hated it. I hated the way her scent still clung to me, the way my skin burned where she had touched me. I hated the way her voice replayed in my mind, taunting me. "You’re falling for me." She had said it so confidently, as if she had already won. As if she had wrapped me around her little finger. And maybe she had. I cursed under my breath and slammed my palm against the desk. The sharp pain barely registered. I felt like
Elowen’s POV Days passed, and with each moment, I felt Alaric slipping deeper into my web. It was almost laughable how easy it was. The mighty, ruthless Alaric—the one who once looked down on me, who rejected and humiliated me—was now utterly consumed by me. And I was loving every second of it.I saw it in the way his eyes darkened every time I walked into a room. The way his wolf prowled beneath the surface, possessive, restless, desperate. He tried to hide it, tried to act unaffected, but I could feel his restraint cracking. I made sure of it. Every touch. Every lingering glance. Every teasing smirk. I was breaking him.And tonight, I would push him over the edge. ---The academy ballroom was filled with students, the chandeliers casting golden light over the swirling crowd. Music played softly in the background, but I barely heard it. My focus was on one thing. Or rather, one person. Alaric stood near the balcony, his broad shoulders tense, his sharp jaw clenched.
Elowen's POV I hesitated. Not because I was afraid, but because I hadn’t expected him to make a move. Theron wasn’t like Alaric. He wasn’t impulsive, didn’t let his emotions slip so easily. Yet here he was, standing before me, his hand extended, his expression unreadable. The tension in the ballroom was suffocating. Alaric was seething, his body practically vibrating with fury. His wolf was barely contained, his golden eyes glowing with raw possessiveness. Ranon, on the other hand, looked amused. As if he had expected this. As if he knew what kind of chaos I was about to step into. And Theron? He was waiting. Patient. Calculating. But the way his fingers flexed ever so slightly told me he wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed. Interesting. I exhaled slowly, then placed my hand in his. His fingers wrapped around mine—firm, controlled, possessive in a way that sent a strange thrill through me. Without another word, he pulled me onto the dance floor. The music started again, sof
Elowen’s POV Alaric’s grip on my wrist was unrelenting, his body radiating fury as he dragged me through the ballroom. His wolf was raging, clawing at his control, barely restrained. But before we could take another step— Theron moved.One second, he was standing behind us, watching with his usual detached amusement. The next— He had me in his arms. Alaric barely had time to react before Theron’s hand slid behind my neck, his grip firm, dominant, undeniable.And then— He kissed me.In front of everyone.The world stopped the moment Theron’s lips crashed against mine.The heat of his body, the firm grip of his hand behind my neck—it was commanding, possessive, undeniable. He kissed me not like a lover but like a conqueror, like a king taking what he already considered his.Gasps rippled through the ballroom, the soft hum of music forgotten beneath the weight of shock.I barely registered them.Because all I could feel was Alaric.His rage.His wolf snapping at the edges of
Elowen’s POV The classroom was silent except for the monotonous droning of the professor’s lecture. I wasn’t listening. My mind was elsewhere—on Alaric, Ranon, and Theron.A week had passed since the dance, since Theron had kissed me in front of everyone and set the world on fire. A week since Alaric and Ranon had lost their minds over it.They had been watching me ever since.Alaric had grown possessive. Ranon had grown volatile. And Theron? He was still taunting them both, his amusement never fading.It was a game. And I was winning.Until—"Elowen Callister, report to the principal’s office immediately."The room froze.Heads turned. Whispers spread. My heart skipped a beat."What the hell?"The professor gave me a sharp look. "You’re excused."I swallowed my annoyance and stood, every pair of eyes in the room following me as I left.I had a bad feeling about this.The Principal’s OfficeThe moment I stepped inside, I was met with cold, judgmental eyes.Principal sat behind his g
Elowen’s POV "You are a disgrace, Miss Stormwood." His words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. I narrowed my eyes, refusing to flinch. "Care to explain what exactly I’ve done?" The principal leaned forward, his elbows resting on the polished wooden desk. His gaze burned with contempt. "You know exactly what you’ve done," he spat. "Seducing my sons—all three of them?" His nostrils flared. "You’ve been nothing but a temptress, causing chaos and distraction in this academy." His sons. I clenched my jaw. Alaric. Ranon. Theron. The triplets. I almost laughed. Was that what they were telling him? That I had somehow lured them into my web, like some wicked siren? "That’s quite an accusation," I mused, tilting my head. "You’re saying your sons—three powerful, fully grown alphas—are so weak-willed that they fell for a single girl’s charms?" His fist slammed against the desk. "Watch your tongue!" he snapped. "I will not tolerate your disrespect." Disrespect? He was t
Elowen’s POV Alaric walked away without another word, but I saw the way his shoulders tensed, how his fists stayed clenched at his sides like he was barely holding himself together. It thrilled me. He was falling—and the best part? He didn’t even realize it. I let out a soft chuckle, running a hand through my hair before turning toward the classroom. I knew the second I walked in, whispers would start. The rumors were already spreading. "The principal called her in." "Did she really seduce all three Blackwood brothers?" "She’s playing them." "What kind of spell does she have on them?" I could hear them before I even entered. Perfect. I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and walked in like I owned the place. Every pair of eyes snapped to me. Lisa was the first to sneer. "Finally finished playing the victim?" she mocked, twirling a strand of her blonde hair. "Or did you cry to Alaric until he saved you?" I smirked, tilting my head. "Jealous?" Her face flushed with an
Elowen's POVThe sun was a pale, watery smudge behind a thick blanket of heavy, bruised clouds as I stepped into the Academy’s main courtyard the next morning. The cool wind, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and distant rain, stirred the loose strands of my hair around my shoulders, a fleeting caress that did little to dispel the deeper chill that snaked its way down my spine.It wasn’t the bite of the autumn air that made my skin prickle with unease.It was the way they watched me.Alaric.Theron.Ranon.My mates.Their gazes, sharp and possessive, followed my every movement across the bustling courtyard with such focused, unwavering intensity that it felt like a tangible pressure against my skin, a silent, invisible touch that both reassured and unnerved me. Protective. Possessive. Fierce. Their united front was a comforting shield, yet sometimes, the sheer weight of their attention felt like a gilded cage.And now, adding another layer to the already charged atmosphere, Caelu
Theron’s POVThe silence in the grand hall was thick enough to cut with a knife. Every fork clinked a little too loudly, every hushed conversation seemed to die in its tracks. All eyes were on us. On Elowen.I kept my arm possessively around her shoulders, my fingers lightly tracing the curve of her neck beneath the collar of Alaric’s jacket she still wore. A silent warning to anyone who dared to look too long.Ranon’s presence behind us was a palpable weight, a silent promise of retribution to anyone who might consider challenging our claim. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the barely leashed possessiveness that mirrored my own.Alaric, ever the pragmatist, continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening, but his silver eyes flicked around the hall, assessing the reactions, cataloging the threats. His hand, resting casually on the table, was close enough to Elowen’s to reach her instantly.Elowen, bless her oblivious heart, seemed more concerned with the plate of fruit i
Theron’s POVThe rain, a persistent veil earlier, now clung to us like a second skin, the soft, cool mist of it still swirling in the night air, clinging to our eyelashes and dampening the strands of Elowen’s hair that escaped Alaric’s too-large jacket. Her hand, small and trusting, was tucked securely within the warm, calloused grip of mine, her steps slow and heavy with a delicious exhaustion as we guided her back toward the imposing stone walls of the academy.Alaric’s dark leather jacket, usually molded perfectly to his broad shoulders, now swallowed her petite frame, the collar pulled high around her neck, a silent, possessive claim. Ranon’s large hand hovered protectively near the small of her back, a constant, reassuring presence, ready to steady her if her tired limbs faltered.She was quiet, her body radiating a boneless weariness, the sweet aftermath of being so thoroughly, so completely adored by all three of us weighing her down like a comforting blanket. But her eyes – go
Theron’s POVLater that night the academy gardens, usually bustling with the hushed conversations of students seeking solace or clandestine meetings, were deserted. The towering hedges of sculpted yew stood like silent sentinels, their dark forms absorbing the ambient sounds, leaving only the soft, intimate rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle night breeze and the sporadic, rhythmic chirp of crickets hidden amongst the flowerbeds. Above us, the moon hung full and luminous, a perfect orb of silver suspended in the inky expanse, bathing the meticulously manicured lawns and stone pathways in an ethereal, otherworldly glow.Elowen stood just a few feet ahead of me on the winding stone path, her slender back to us, her silhouette delicate against the stark white of a marble bench. The faint, almost imperceptible breeze caught the loose ends of her golden-streaked hair, lifting them in wispy tendrils that danced gently around her bare shoulders, a halo of moonlight framing her.She didn’t k
Theron’s POVThe dawn arrived with a languid grace, its golden tendrils unfurling across the vast expanse of the Academy’s massive windows, slicing sharp, luminous beams across the polished stone floor of the common lounge. The light illuminated the tableau of our intertwined bodies, where Elowen still lay nestled between Ranon and Alaric, a vision of peaceful vulnerability.I remained where I had been throughout the restless night, my long legs stretched out before me, my back pressed against the cool, unyielding stone of the wall, my arms folded tightly across my chest. But my stillness was a deceptive facade. Beneath the outward calm, every nerve ending was acutely aware, every muscle coiled with a possessive tension. I wasn’t resting; I was watching her, my gaze an invisible tether connecting us.She stirred in the depths of her sleep, a soft, almost childlike movement, murmuring something incoherent, her cheek nuzzling against the solid warmth of Ranon’s chest. A low growl, prima
Theron’s POVTraining resumed, a strained imitation of its usual rigorous pace. The air, once crisp with the promise of a new day, now felt thick with unspoken threats and simmering resentment. Every time Elowen’s melodic laughter echoed across the training grounds, every time her golden-streaked hair shimmered like spun sunlight as she executed a sharp spin, my gaze, against my will, snagged on Caelum. He stood like a silent predator at the edge of the grounds, a shadow lurking just beyond the perimeter of our tightly knit group. His golden eyes, intense and unwavering, burned into her back, branding her with his unwelcome attention as if he possessed some inherent right.The sight made my blood simmer, a slow, dangerous heat that threatened to boil over into outright violence. My grip on my practice sword tightened until my knuckles ached, the smooth wood digging into my palm.“Theron,” Alaric’s voice, sharp and urgent, barked under his breath, yanking me back from the precipice of
Theron’s POVThe grand mansion, usually alive with the soft murmur of conversations and the rhythmic footsteps of its inhabitants, was now cloaked in an unnerving silence. It was the kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, a heavy, suffocating stillness that made every deliberate breath feel like a jarring intrusion into the hushed sanctity of the night. Moonlight, sharp and silver, sliced through the towering, arched windows, casting elongated, dancing shadows that writhed across the age-old, polished stone floors, turning familiar hallways into corridors of spectral mystery. Yet, despite the pervasive stillness that gripped the very bones of the building, a violent storm of emotion, a tempest of possessive fury and simmering jealousy, brewed within the confines of my own being, mirrored in the tense silence of my brothers.I stood just outside Elowen’s bedroom door, the heavy oak panel left slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light escaping into the cool hallway. Her soft,
Elowen’s POVSleep came easily, a deep, restful slumber cradled in Alaric’s arms. The quiet intimacy of our night lingered in the air, a peaceful warmth that chased away the lingering shadows of the day. When I finally stirred, the first rays of dawn were painting the sky in soft hues of rose and gold, casting a gentle light across Alaric’s sleeping face.He lay on his side, his dark hair tousled, his silver eyes closed in peaceful repose. There was a vulnerability in his relaxed features, a softness that was rarely on display in the waking hours. A wave of affection washed over me, a deep appreciation for the quiet strength and unwavering tenderness he offered.I traced the sharp line of his jaw with a gentle fingertip, the stubble rough beneath my touch. His brow furrowed slightly in his sleep, and I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. His eyelids fluttered, and his silver eyes slowly opened, focusing on me with a sleepy warmth.“Morning,” he murmured, his voice still t
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