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
Ranon’s POV I watched her walk away, her scent still clinging to my skin like a fucking brand. She thought she was in control. Thought she could play me like she was playing the others. And maybe she could. Maybe I was letting her. But there was one thing she didn’t understand. She was mine. My wolf prowled beneath my skin, restless and hungry. He wanted to chase, to take what already belonged to us. "She’s testing us," my wolf snarled. "Let her play. It won’t change what’s already decided." He was right. I wasn’t worried. Not about Alaric. Not about Theron. They were already falling apart for her. But me? I wasn’t going to break. I was going to make her see. That no matter how much she toyed with us… No matter how many games she played… In the end, she would end up in my arms. Because there was no running from this. From me. The academy hallways were dimly lit, the usual noise replaced by a soft hush. Most students were in their dorms, but
Ranon’s POV The road stretched ahead, dark and endless, but my thoughts were fixed on her. Elowen sat beside me, her smirk lingering like she had just won some silent battle. Maybe she had. I hated how much power she had over me. I hated it even more that she knew it. The car was silent except for the low hum of the radio. I could feel her gaze on me, burning into my skin, waiting for me to react. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. She thinks she’s in control. She thinks she’s winning. I tightened my grip on the wheel, my jaw clenching. "You're awfully quiet," she mused, her voice dripping with amusement. I didn’t respond. She turned slightly in her seat, her elbow resting against the window. "Did I strike a nerve, Ranon?" I let out a slow breath, my wolf stirring beneath my skin. "You're irritating, you know that?" She laughed softly. "And yet, here you are. Driving me around like you have nothing better to do." She wasn’t wrong. That was the problem. I could’
Elowen's POV We pulled up to the estate in silence. Ranon killed the engine, looking over at me with a smug expression. "We're here." I nodded, unbuckling my seat belt and slipping out of the car. He met me around the back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched me. "You can admit defeat, sweetheart. I won't judge." I rolled my eyes, forcing a neutral expression. "Don't flatter yourself, Ranon. We're not done yet." "So it's a war, then?" I hummed, letting my gaze drag over him. "If that's what you want to call it." He chuckled. "Careful, Elowen. I don't lose." "Neither do I," I murmured. He leaned in, his breath hot on my skin. "Then let's make this interesting, hmm? I'll give you a head start." "A head start for what?" He shrugged. "Just a little something to make it fun." I swallowed, willing my heart to slow down. "And how will we know who wins?" "Whoever breaks first," he said, his voice low and rough. "That sounds easy enough," I breathed, reaching u
Ranon’s POV The drive back was quieter, but the air between us crackled with unspoken words. I could still feel the warmth of her breath from when I’d leaned in, the phantom touch of her fingers grazing my shirt.Damn her.She thought she had won this round.She was wrong.I kept my grip firm on the wheel, my expression unreadable. But inside? My wolf was restless, pacing, demanding that I do something. He wanted her.Needed her.The scent of her was still all over me, taunting, intoxicating. My hands itched to pull over again, to finish what we started—what she wanted to start.Instead, I exhaled slowly. Controlled. Calculated."You're awfully quiet now," she mused, turning slightly in her seat. "Did I take all the fight out of you?"I let out a low chuckle. "Sweetheart, if you think that was me losing, you have a lot to learn."Her smirk deepened. "So teach me."Fuck.My hands tightened on the wheel. "Careful what you ask for, Elowen."She hummed, tilting her head. "You keep saying
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