Elowen's POV My heart pounding in my ears, a mixture of excitement and trepidation coursing through my veins. Ranon's intense gaze sent shivers down my spine, and I knew in that moment, I was his for the taking. This wasn't about love or commitment; it was about desire, raw and untamed. "You're stunning," he breathed, his eyes roaming over my body, making me feel exposed yet empowered. I bit my lip, a nervous habit, as I reached for the zipper of my dress, my fingers trembling slightly. "Let me," he said, his voice a low growl as he stepped closer. I nodded, my breath catching as his fingers brushed against my skin, sending sparks of anticipation down my neck. With a swift motion, he slid the zipper down, the fabric of my dress pooling at my feet, leaving me clad in nothing but a delicate lace bra and panties. His fingers traced my spine as he whispered against my lips, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” “Then burn me,” I breathed, daring him. A low growl rumbled in
Elowen’s POV The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the trees. The sound of the river, gentle and steady, filled the silence between my uneven breaths. I was still here. Still tangled in Ranon. The weight of his arm draped over my waist, his warmth pressed against my back, his steady breathing fanning against my neck. His scent—smoky, wild, undeniably him—wrapped around me like an inescapable trap. Panic surged in my chest. I needed to leave. Carefully, I shifted, trying to slide out from beneath his grip, but the moment I moved, his arm tightened, pulling me flush against him. “Running?” His voice was thick with sleep, rough and lazy, but there was amusement in it too. “I thought you were tougher than that, sweetheart.” I clenched my jaw. “I’m not running.” “Liar,” he murmured, lips brushing my bare shoulder. My body betrayed me, a shiver running down my spine at his touch. Damn mate bond.
Elowen's POV The day passed in a haze, but every step, every glance felt like it had been dragged through the mud. I couldn’t stop thinking about last night, about Ranon’s touch, and the storm of emotions swirling in me. As much as I tried to push it away, the bond was there, undeniable and sharp, digging into me every moment. I found myself outside by the academy grounds, needing to be alone, away from the whispers and the weight of everyone’s gaze. My heart was still a mess, tangled with guilt, anger, and an overwhelming desire to run. But the bond wasn’t something I could outrun, not anymore. As I walked, I didn’t hear him approach until it was too late. Alaric. “You look like you’re about to self-destruct,” he said, his voice dripping with that familiar mix of condescension and false concern. I didn’t bother turning to face him. “I’m not in the mood, Alaric,” I said sharply. Alaric’s laugh was dark, mocking. “What? Not in the mood for what? For someone to remind you that you
Alaric's POV The night was quiet, too quiet. The usual noise of the academy felt miles away, drowned out by the pounding of my heart. It wasn’t just the silence that had me on edge—it was the overwhelming need to see her again, to feel that pull I couldn’t shake. The mate bond had become a storm inside me, relentless, and tonight, it felt as if I could no longer fight it. I paced back and forth in my dorm room, my thoughts scattered, my body burning with a hunger that was unfamiliar and terrifying. I’d tried to go out with the intention of distracting myself—training, even trying to get some rest—but it was all in vain. The thought of her consumed me. Her scent, the way her eyes burned with defiance, how she stood there, unaffected by my insults, yet I knew she was far from indifferent. Her resistance only made her more intoxicating. The doors to the academy creaked open in the distance, and I could feel her presence before I saw her. My breath hitched. Every instinct inside me s
Alaric's POV My mouth found hers again, our kiss desperate, hungry. We moved together, our bodies pressed against each other, her skin soft and hot against mine. I felt her hands move lower, her fingers brushing against the growing length of my cock. She was teasing me, testing me. And I was about to lose my fucking mind. I pushed her against the wall, pinning her wrists above her head. Her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed. The way she looked at me—it was like she was daring me to go further, to claim her. She was a siren, calling out to the darkness inside me, drawing me deeper into her web. And I couldn't deny her any longer. I took her by the hips, lifting her up and sliding her body against mine. She gasped, wrapping her legs around me, her arms around my neck. Our lips found each other again, kissing hard and deep, a battle between two forces that could no longer be denied. I carried her to the bed, laying her down, my body hovering over hers. Her skin was warm aga
Elowen’s POVThe door clicked shut behind me, and I leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. My heart was still pounding, but it wasn’t from fear or nerves—it was exhilaration. I had him exactly where I wanted him, and it felt damn good.I had expected some part of me to regret what had happened between us, to feel guilt or shame for how I’d let the night unfold. But instead, I felt satisfaction, a quiet sense of triumph. Alaric, with all his strength, his arrogance, his ruthless nature, was falling into my trap. He wasn’t as untouchable as he thought. He wasn’t the perfect, cold-hearted asshole he tried to project. No, beneath that veneer was a man who couldn’t control the pull between us, a man who was already starting to care. The thought made me smile to myself as I walked down the hallway, my steps light, almost playful. He was fighting it, I could tell. He was trying to resist the bond between us, trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter, that he didn’t need me.
Theron’s POV The first time I laid eyes on Elowen, I knew she was trouble. Not in the careless, reckless way most women were—but the kind of trouble that could unravel a man, strip him of his defenses, and leave him begging for more. And that was exactly why I should have stayed away. But I never was good at making the right choices. Tonight, she was different. She wasn’t just the cold, untouchable girl I had always watched from the shadows. There was something darker in her, something more dangerous. And gods help me, I wanted to know what had put that fire in her eyes. I found her alone, standing on the academy balcony, staring at the moon as if it had personally betrayed her. The glow cast silver streaks across her hair, highlighting the sharp angles of her face, the delicate curve of her lips. I leaned against the railing, just close enough to catch her scent—wild and intoxicating, like midnight storms and forbidden things. "You look like someone who just won a war,"
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
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
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