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 The slap I intended to give him remained frozen in the air, my fingers trembling as I stared into his intense, stormy eyes. His lips were slightly swollen from the kiss we’d just shared, and the way he was looking at me—desperate, longing, vulnerable—sent a shiver down my spine. I clenched my jaw, willing myself to stay strong, but my body betrayed me. My heart thundered in my chest, my lips still tingling from his touch. For a fleeting moment, I hated how much power he had over me. And yet, I hated myself more for wanting him despite everything he’d done. No. You have a plan, my wolf, Nyra, growled in my mind, her voice firm. Make him fall for you. Make him regret everything. Her words snapped something in me, and I felt a surge of determination course through my veins. This wasn’t about weakness. This wasn’t about my feelings. This was about revenge. So instead of walking away, instead of pushing him again, I stepped forward. His eyes widened slightly as I re
Elowen's POV It was late afternoon when I walked into the academy's common area, the usual sounds of chatter and laughter filling the room. I glanced around, my eyes landing on Ranon and his group of friends. They were seated in a circle, passing around an empty bottle and laughing loudly. They were playing one of those typical games—the kind where everyone takes a turn doing something ridiculous or embarrassing. It was the perfect time for me to make my move. I had to admit, seeing Ranon so carefree, surrounded by his friends, irritated me. He had been one of them—the ones who had humiliated me, tormented me without a second thought. But now, he was acting like nothing ever happened. The audacity of him. I could feel the sharp pang of anger rising within me. I was done standing on the sidelines. Today, I would make my presence known. Without hesitation, I walked toward them, a confident stride in my step. I didn’t even flinch as they all turned to stare at me, their surprised fac
Elowen’s POV The game continued, but the atmosphere had shifted dramatically. What started out as a simple bottle-spinning challenge had turned into something much more intense. Every time the bottle spun, the tension between us grew thicker, and with it, the dare escalating. We were no longer just playing for fun. This had turned into a battle of egos, of pride, and of revenge. I could feel all eyes on me, especially Ranon’s. His gaze was intense, but his lips were pressed tightly together as if holding back something—something dangerous. I could see the flicker of frustration in his eyes, and it fueled me further. This was my moment. I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand, and let the game continue. But I wasn’t going to let things go on without taking control. The bottle spun again, slower this time, and it finally stopped. I was expecting it to land on one of the guys, but instead, the bottle pointed directly at me. I could hear a few chuckles, and Alisa’s voice broke t
Ranon's POV I stood there like a complete idiot, my chest heaving, her taste still lingering on my lips. She had walked away, and I just let her. My fists clenched at my sides as I tried to process what had just happened. The room was buzzing with whispers, but I didn’t hear a word. All I could focus on was her—Elowen. What the hell was she doing to me? The second she kissed me, I lost all control. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a slap to my pride, a dare, a game she thought she could win. And maybe she was right. Because as much as I hated to admit it, she owned me in that moment. “Damn, Ranon,” one of my friends finally broke the silence, chuckling nervously. “Didn’t think you had it in you to go for it like that.” I shot him a glare so sharp that it silenced him immediately. “Shut up,” I snapped, my voice low but venomous. Across the room, Alisa stood frozen, her face pale with shock. She opened her mouth to speak, but for the first time, she didn’t know what to say. Good. I d
Elowen’s POV The halls of the academy felt like they were closing in on me as I walked through them, whispers following in my wake. Eyes burned into my back, and the murmurs were almost deafening. My every step felt heavy, like I was walking under the weight of everyone’s expectations, their judgments. “Did you see what happened last night?” “Ranon kissed her. In front of everyone.” “I can’t believe she kissed him back.” “Alisa must be fuming.” I fought back the smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Let them talk. Let them assume whatever they wanted. The game was unfolding exactly how I wanted it. The pieces were in motion, and I was pulling the strings. When I reached my locker, Kael was leaning against it, his posture casual but his eyes sharp. As soon as he saw me, his lips curled into a knowing smile. “Making waves, Elowen?” he teased, voice dripping with amusement. “Am I?” I responded, feigning innocence, though my fingers expertly worked the lock on my locker.
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
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