Elowen’s POV The academy’s courtyard was transformed the next evening into a riot of color and light—a celebration of renewal and hope. Ribbons in every hue fluttered from ancient stone arches, lanterns cast a soft, enchanting glow, and laughter mingled with the music that filled the night air. It was as if the darkness of our past had finally been pushed aside by a promise of a brighter future.I stepped into the throng of students with cautious trepidation, my heart still tender from recent battles and fragile reconciliations. In the midst of the celebration, I could almost forget the cruelty of yesterday—the whispered insults, the venomous glares, and the harsh judgments of those who once sought to tear me down. Tonight, it was as if the academy itself was daring us to believe in new beginnings.I spotted Alaric near a cluster of brightly lit trees, his dark eyes scanning the crowd as if searching for me. His presence was magnetic—even amidst the jubilant chaos, he seemed to stand
Elowen’s POV Dawn broke slowly over the academy, its gentle light filtering through the stained-glass windows of my small room. I awoke with the echo of last night’s festival still playing in my ears—the laughter, the whispered promises, the tender, tentative touches that had woven a fragile new tapestry between us. Yet, as I lay there in the early morning hush, a subtle heaviness tugged at me—a mix of hope, uncertainty, and the lingering sting of old wounds.I rose and drew aside the heavy curtains, watching the sunrise paint the courtyard in soft hues of peach and gold. Somewhere among those awakening beams, I wondered if the scars of yesterday could begin to fade. The night had been a celebration of new beginnings, but the next day always brought with it a moment of reckoning.Before I had time to gather my scattered thoughts, there was a soft knock on my door. I opened it to find Alaric standing in the corridor, his eyes a gentle mixture of determination and concern. The cool mor
Ranon’s POV I had spent so many years hiding behind sarcasm and cruelty, convinced it was the only way to survive in this harsh world. But now, as dusk settled over the academy and the chaotic echoes of our past began to fade into a tentative silence, I found myself longing for something different—something genuine.I wandered into the academy gardens alone, seeking solace among the ancient stone statues and blooming night jasmine. The garden, bathed in the soft light of lanterns and the cool caress of the evening breeze, felt like a sanctuary. Here, the whispers of gossip and the biting laughter of yesteryear were replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the murmuring water of a small fountain.I paused at the edge of a winding path, my heart heavy with regret and hope intermingled. I remembered all the times I had taunted Elowen—my words, laced with cruelty, had cut her deeply. I remembered how she had endured our abuse with quiet dignity, the hurt in her eyes that I once thou
Ranon’s POV The night had settled into a thick silence, the kind that carried weight—the kind that came before a storm.Elowen had allowed me a chance, a moment of fragile trust, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not yet.I had spent too many years as the bastard who tormented her, and even if her lips had met mine tonight, I knew that the wounds I had left wouldn’t disappear so easily.She had walked away after that kiss, leaving me standing beneath the moonlit arbor, my chest heavy with something foreign—hope.But as I turned to leave, the sharp scent of wolves in the wind made my body go rigid.I wasn’t alone.A slow clap echoed through the darkness, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.Then, a voice—taunting, laced with amusement.“Well, well, well… look at you, Ranon. The mighty bastard prince reduced to chasing after a woman he once spat on.”I didn’t need to see him to know who it was.Alaric.I turned, my jaw clenching as I faced my brother. He leaned against the s
Ranon’s POV The next few days at the academy were a test of patience. Elowen didn’t make things easy. Not that I expected her to. She wasn’t cold—not exactly. But she didn’t trust me, didn’t let me close the way she did with Theron and Alaric. And I understood why. Of all the things I had done to her, trust was the one thing I had shattered beyond repair. So, I didn’t push. I didn’t try to force my way back into her life with grand gestures or pretty words. Instead, I did something I had never done before—I showed up. I was there. When she walked into class, I had already saved her a seat—not beside me, but near enough that she noticed. When she sparred in training, I partnered with her—not as a challenge, but as a teammate, offering support when she needed it. When Lisa or anyone else dared to whisper about her behind her back, I was there to shut them up before she even had to hear it. I didn’t expect gratitude or recognition. I didn’t expect her to look at me a
Ranon’s POV The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words.Elowen wasn’t the type to trust easily—not after everything she had been through, not after everything I had done to her.But she also wasn’t the type to ignore the truth.And the truth was, I wasn’t leaving.I leaned back against the tree trunk, watching her out of the corner of my eye. She was still guarded, still wary, but she hadn’t walked away. That had to count for something.“Do you always sit out here alone?” I asked, breaking the silence.She shrugged. “It’s quiet.”“Quiet is overrated.”That earned me a small smirk. “Says the guy who used to make my life a living hell just to hear me yell at him.”I huffed a laugh. “Fair point.”She shook her head, but there was no anger in her expression. If anything, she looked… tired. Like she was holding too much inside, and for once, she didn’t know what to do with it.“Elowen.” I kept my voice steady, serious. “I don’t expect you to trust me overnight. But I mean
Elowen’s POV I should have pulled away.I should have walked away, left him standing there beneath the stars with that arrogant smirk and those stupidly intense eyes.But I didn’t.Because for the first time in forever, I didn’t want to.Ranon’s touch still lingered on my skin, warm and possessive, as if he had no intention of letting me go. His lips had traced fire down my neck, and I hated how much I felt it.Hated how much I wanted more.His forehead was still pressed against mine, his hands settled on my waist like he belonged there. Like I belonged there.And it terrified me.“You’re staring,” Ranon murmured, his voice low and teasing.I scoffed, trying to summon whatever pride I had left. “You’re in my space.”He grinned. “And yet, you’re not moving.”I hated that he was right.Hated that my body wasn’t fighting him the way my mind told me to.Instead, I leaned into him.Just a little.Just enough.His thumb traced lazy circles against my hip, his other hand coming up to brush
Elowen’s POV The next morning, I walked into the academy feeling like my entire world had tilted on its axis.The whispers started the moment I stepped through the gates."Did you see her with Ranon last night?""First Alaric, then Theron, now Ranon? How many mates does she have?""I bet she’s just playing with them all."I gritted my teeth, keeping my head high as I made my way through the courtyard. I was used to their gossip. Used to the stares. But today, it felt different. Heavier.Because this time, they weren’t entirely wrong.I had kissed Ranon.And I hadn’t stopped him.Not once.I exhaled sharply, trying to push the memory away. The way his lips had claimed mine, the way his hands had held me like I was something precious—it had been intoxicating.And now, I was paying the price for it.“Elowen.”I froze at the sound of his voice.Ranon stood by the academy steps, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk firmly in place. His golden eyes were locked onto me with something unread
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