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2025-02-26 23:39:59
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The Triplet Alpha's Outcast Just two halves of something unfinished, seeking a way to become whole.
Amara’s POV I pulled my knees tight against my chest, a futile attempt to ward off the bone-deep chill that had settled within me, a coldness that had little to do with the dropping temperature of the evening air. The ache in my chest, a dull, persistent throb, pulsed with the rhythm of my heartbeat, a constant reminder of the raw, unhealed wound Jaxon had inflicted with his abrupt departure. It felt like a bruise that wouldn’t fade, a constant, tender spot that flared with every unwelcome memory. You can’t keep running from them, my wolf murmured softly in the quiet recesses of my mind, her voice a low, steady counterpoint to the frantic turmoil of my thoughts. I’m not running, I retorted, the bitterness lacing my mental reply. I just need space. I can’t breathe around them right now. Every look, every word… it’s a reminder of what’s broken. My wolf sighed, a mental exhalation that carried a weight of understanding and a quiet, unwavering wisdom. You love them, Amara. All of the
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast I hated the oppressive silence of the woods.
Amara's POV The last vestiges of daylight surrendered to the encroaching dusk, painting the sky overhead in a breathtaking yet melancholic tapestry of lavender and gold, the vibrant hues bleeding into each other like the fading colors of a bruise on the clouds. I remained unmoving on the cool forest floor, the damp earth seeping into the fabric of my trousers, a silent connection to the unyielding ground beneath me. My fingers, restless and seeking a distraction from the turmoil within, played absently with a single blade of grass, tracing its delicate veins over and over, as if the simple, repetitive motion could somehow anchor me to the present, prevent me from being swept away by the relentless tide of my emotions. I hated the oppressive silence of the woods. It was a deceptive stillness, because within its quiet embrace, the memories came flooding back, sharp and vivid, amplified by the absence of external noise. Jaxon’s voice, low and laced with a self-loathing that had felt l
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast I missed the simplicity of who I used to be.
Amara Alone The forest swallowed me whole, its dense embrace a stark contrast to the suffocating closeness of the unspoken tension I had just fled. I moved blindly, my feet carrying me deeper into the emerald labyrinth, a desperate need for solitude overriding any sense of direction or purpose. I didn’t know where I was going, didn’t care if I ever found my way back. All that mattered was putting distance between Ryder’s gentle warmth and the raw, wounded vulnerability in Caden’s eyes. Leaves crunched like brittle bones beneath my worn boots, twigs snapping with a sound that echoed the sharp, jagged edges of the emotions still clinging to my skin. The further I ventured, the quieter everything became. The gentle breeze that had rustled the leaves earlier stilled, the cheerful chirping of the forest birds hushed, as if even the natural world held its breath, observing my silent retreat. When the physical exhaustion finally matched the emotional depletion, I sank to the cold, damp g
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast I’m one of your mates too.
Amara’s POV Ryder’s arms, a comforting haven in the storm of my emotions, were still wrapped around me, his warmth seeping into my chilled skin, when I felt it – that subtle, almost imperceptible shift in the air. It was a familiar tremor within the intricate web of our bond, an uneasy stirring in the depths of my chest that recognized another vital thread drawing near. My body tensed instinctively, the fragile peace of the moment fracturing. Ryder felt it too, his muscles subtly coiling beneath my touch. He pulled back just slightly, his green eyes, now shadowed with a dawning awareness, scanning the dark treeline behind me, his senses already on high alert. And then I heard it. The unmistakable crunch of boots on fallen leaves, the quiet snap of a twig underfoot, a sound that sliced through the tranquil stillness of the twilight. “Ryder,” I whispered, a wave of guilt washing over me, a sudden, sharp awareness of how this might look, how it might feel to another of my mates. He
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast When everything else hurts, let me be the one who holds you together.
Amara’s POV The last vestiges of the sun bled across the western horizon, painting the sprawling sky in bruised hues of violet and a lingering, melancholic orange. Beneath the weeping branches of the ancient willow tree, my sanctuary in moments of quiet contemplation, the weight in my chest felt like a physical burden, a leaden mass growing heavier with each shallow breath I drew. My fingers, restless and agitated, worried the already frayed hem of my sleeve, the silence of the twilight pressing in around me, a suffocating shroud that amplified the turmoil within. I didn’t hear his approach, his movements through the fading light as silent and fluid as a shadow lengthening across the grass. But I felt him, that subtle shift in the air, a primal awareness that heralded his presence even before my eyes registered his form. A familiar warmth bloomed in my chest, a stark contrast to the icy ache of Jaxon’s departure, and a sense of grounding, of unwavering stability, settled over the r
The Triplet Alpha's Outcast Now you need something?
Amara’s POV I heard the knock resonate through the quiet of Lyra’s guest room before his knuckles even grazed the aged wood of the door. It wasn’t a sound I heard with my ears, not truly. It was a vibration in the air, a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a primal recognition that sent a jolt of something akin to pain, mixed with a stubborn, unwanted flicker of anticipation, through my very core. I don’t know how I knew it was him. Perhaps it was the lingering echo of his scent that still clung to the air around me, a phantom reminder of the intimacy we had shared. Or maybe it was a deeper, more visceral connection, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of his presence, the heavy cloak of regret that seemed to cling to him even through the solid barrier of the door, the turbulent storm of his inner conflict that pulsed beneath his carefully constructed silence. For a fleeting moment, a treacherous part of me, the part that still ached with his absence, yearned to throw the door open,
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