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• The Triplet's Bullied Mate   The River of Choices

  Elowen's POV The river whispered again. It always did—soft and slow, a liquid sigh against the ancient stones, as if it knew secrets older than the stars, secrets whispered from the dawn of creation. Its silver surface shimmered in the moonlight, a vast, rippling canvas reflecting the celestial tapestry above. These reflected ripples of power danced across the smooth, cold stones at my bare feet, pulling me deeper into a trance. I stood at its edge, shivering slightly in the cool night air, in the exact same spot I had seen her before. The Moon Goddess. The first time she appeared, I had been utterly broken. Lost. Tearing at the seams of the girl I used to be, a fractured echo of a human trying to hold onto a life that was no longer mine. But now… now I was something else entirely. I had faced the darkest corners of my bloodline, confronted the horrifying truth of my father’s betrayal. I had ended Caelum, that twisted wolf who sought to claim me, a raw force of vengeance unleas

• The Triplet's Bullied Mate   And if we vote to exile you?

  Elowen's POV “It didn’t,” I stated, my voice low but resonant, filled with an unyielding conviction that surprised even myself. The chamber seemed to darken, the already dim light appearing to recede, as if in response to the shift in my internal state. I didn’t consciously summon magic. It simply responded to me, to my will, to the defiant surge of my spirit. Flames, the deep, luminous violet-blue of my witchblood, shimmered along my wrists, spiraling up my forearms, glowing softly in the obsidian chamber. They were not violent, not wild, not chaotic. They were controlled. A silent, terrifying display of power under my command. “I am witch and wolf,” I said, my voice gaining strength, resonating with newfound authority. “Daughter of flame. Descendant of old blood and beast. A culmination, not an anomaly.” My words were a declaration, not a defense. “You shifted into a creature not documented in any archive, in any ancient text or prophecy,” another councilor, a wizened w

• The Triplet's Bullied Mate   Judgment and Flame

  Elowen's POV The Council Hall was colder than I remembered, a chill that seeped into my bones despite the fire that now hummed beneath my skin. It was a place carved from ancient, gleaming obsidian and towering skyglass, its vast chamber looming with silent, unyielding judgment. It wasn’t built for comfort, for warmth, or for human-scale interactions. It was built to remind everyone who entered, from the lowliest initiate to the mightiest Alpha, that power—true, absolute power, and the right to wield it—belonged solely to the Council. And today, by their decree, I was its enemy. I, Elowen Blackthorne, stood accused. I stood utterly alone in the chilling center of the vast, circular chamber, the polished obsidian floor reflecting my solitary figure. Around me, seven High Council members, cloaked in robes of impenetrable black, perched on their elevated thrones like ancient, predatory vultures. Their eyes, sharp and unforgiving, were like sharpened blades, dissecting me, piercing

• The Triplet's Bullied Mate   I killed him.

  Elowen's POV He’d used me. He’d used my own power, my own blood, to fuel his twisted desires. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow, a surge of burning rage unlike anything I had ever known. Ranon, bruised and bleeding, tried to rise again, pushing himself up, limping, a grimace of pain on his face, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He wouldn't stay down. Not while his brothers, and I, were still fighting. “Stay down!” I cried, my voice tearing. “Please, Ranon, stay down!” “I won’t,” he growled, staggering another step forward, his golden eyes fixed on Caelum with unyielding hatred. “Not while he’s breathing. Not while he threatens you.” Caelum, his face a mask of triumph and dark exhilaration, raised a hand toward Ranon, dark fire coiling in his palm, gathering into a lethal, concentrated ball of energy. He intended to finish him. And that was the moment I broke. I felt it tear through me—not a pain, but an unstoppable surge of energy, a s

• The Triplet's Bullied Mate   Shut your fucking mouth!!!

  Elowen's POV The air was still, a heavy, suffocating blanket that pressed down on the ancient forest. It was the kind of stillness that spoke not of peace, but of impending death, a held breath before the final plunge. The twisted, knotted trees ahead loomed like skeletal guardians, their branches clawing at the bruised twilight sky. Every root, every shadow, every cursed leaf of the Hollow Forest hummed with a malevolent magic that wasn't mine, yet it recognized me, responded to the newly awakened power thrumming beneath my skin. It was a dark symphony, and I was the unexpected conductor. The Triplets moved ahead of me, their forms lean and lethal in the dim light, their every step a testament to their calculated precision. Their bodies hummed with a restrained rage, a barely leashed ferocity that made the very air around them crackle. They didn't speak. They didn't have to. The unspoken pact, the shared fury, resonated between us, a silent language understood in the deep recess

• The Triplet's Bullied Mate   It’s a claim.

  Elowen’s POV The air shifted, a subtle, insidious ripple that wasn’t of the wind or the night. One moment, I was sparring with Ranon, my violet-blue witchflame dancing around my fists, the satisfying ache of exertion a familiar comfort. The next, a cold, foreign tendril of magic snaked into my core, coiling around my newfound power. My knees buckled, the strength draining from my limbs as if the earth itself had betrayed me. Ranon, ever vigilant, caught me instantly, his powerful arms tightening around my waist, pulling me against his warm, solid form. “El? What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice was a guttural rumble of concern, his golden eyes searching my face, already sensing the unseen threat. My skin prickled, a thousand tiny needles piercing my aura. My magic, usually a vibrant, eager presence, recoiled, pulling in on itself, a frightened beast retreating into the depths of my soul. I could feel it in my blood, in the ancient, burning runes etched into my arms – a searing disco