LOGINElowen has always been an outcast—an omega in a world ruled by powerful Alphas, tormented by her vicious stepmother and unwanted by her pack. When she’s forced to attend Ironfang Alpha Academy, infamous for its ruthless students, she hopes to disappear into the shadows. But fate has other plans. On her first day, she crosses paths with one of the notorious triplet Alphas who rule the academy with fear. In a shocking twist, Theron claims her as his mate, revealing her omega status to the entire school. But that’s not the worst of it—Ronan, the youngest of the triplets, is her mate too. And the most terrifying of all, Alaric, their eldest brother, hates omegas more than anything. The triplets hold her fate in their hands, and while the mate bond pulls them together, Elowen can’t escape them now. With secrets unravelling and danger lurking around every corner, will she survive long enough to understand why the Moon Goddess gave her not one, but three Alpha mates?
View MoreElowen's POV The sprawling meadow behind the packhouse was in full, glorious bloom, a vibrant, living canvas stretching to meet the horizon. It was a wild ocean of soft lavender swaying gently in the moonlit breeze, dotted with the sun-kissed faces of daisies and the delicate chime of tiny bellflowers. The night was warm, thick with the lingering heat of a long, sun-drenched day, now steeped in that golden hush that only came with the deepest hours of summer. Fireflies, tiny living jewels, danced in slow, mesmerizing spirals through the tall grass, their ephemeral glow flickering like whispered magic, mirroring the silent, ancient pulse of the earth. Above, the stars shimmered—endless, eternal, stretched across the indigo canvas of the sky like a blanket of scattered diamonds, each one a tiny world of light. It was one of those rare, perfect nights when everything felt exquisitely still—when the very air seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself was savoring the profound qui
Elowen's POV The next morning, the grand packhouse, usually a bastion of calm and order, buzzed like a disturbed hive. A palpable tremor of unease, mingled with a surging tide of fervent curiosity, rippled through the gathered members. The word had spread faster than wildfire, carried on the invisible currents of pack telepathy and hushed whispers. Some claimed to have caught the impossible golden light through the upper windows of the nursery, a beacon of otherworldly power. Others swore they had felt a subtle tremor in the very air—like a soft, resonant thunder without a storm, a deep hum that resonated in their bones. But one thing was certain, undeniable, and spoken of in hushed, awe-filled tones: the Luna’s daughter, barely three months old, had done something no newborn of their kind ever had. She had glowed. “Elowen?” Mira, the head omega, a woman of gentle wisdom and quiet authority, approached me cautiously in the bustling hallway. I was rocking Lyra in my arms, attempting
Elowen's POV It began as a deceptively peaceful evening, one that lulled the senses into a false sense of ordinary tranquility. The persistent rain of the afternoon had finally come and gone, leaving behind a crisp, clean scent of wet earth mingling with the sweet perfume of blooming petals from the rain-kissed gardens. The packhouse, usually a bustling hub of activity and conversation, was unusually quiet—almost too quiet, a hushed anticipation hanging in the air. The only sound breaking the serene stillness was the soft, contented cooing of Lyra from her cradle, nestled by the dancing flames of the nursery hearth. I had just stepped out of the nursery, intending to retrieve a fresh cup of chamomile tea, having asked one of the gentle omegas, Elara, to keep a watchful eye on Lyra while I was gone for mere minutes. Ranon, ever the diligent Alpha, was in the training yard, his powerful form likely cutting through the lingering dampness of the air. Alaric, the meticulous strategist,
Elowen's POV The ancient stone manor had never felt more alive. It wasn't because of the increased number of formidable guards now stationed at every entrance, their presence a silent, unwavering promise of protection. It wasn't even because of the blooming gardens that had seemingly burst into vibrant, impossible life since Lyra’s birth, as if infused with a new, potent magic. No, the true transformation, the undeniable vibrancy that now hummed through every stone, every beam, every shadowed corridor of the packhouse, was the sound of laughter—deep, unfiltered, joyous peals that echoed from dawn till dusk. And it all, unequivocally, came from her. Lyra. She was three months old now, a miraculous miniature of our combined love. Her cheeks were soft and plump, dimpling with every giggle. Her lashes, impossibly long and dark, curled delicately over her luminous eyes. And her laugh… gods, her laugh… it was a pure, melodic sound that could halt even the fiercest Alpha mid-command, disa
Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.
reviews