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
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 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