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Oh, Sweet, naive Elowen. I played you.
Last Updated:
2024-12-27 20:59:16
Latest chapter
The Triplet's Bullied Mate In my shirt. In my room. Just you.
Elowen’s POV The moon, a silent voyeur in the inky sky, had climbed higher, its silvery light now painting the academy grounds in stark contrasts of light and shadow by the time Theron and I finally made our way back to the hushed stillness of the Blackthorn mansion. The long corridor leading to the private quarters was dim, the only illumination emanating from the ornate wall sconces, their soft golden glow casting elongated, dancing shadows across the polished stone floor. My hand remained securely nestled within Theron’s, his grip steady and reassuringly warm, a silent anchor in the lingering turbulence of my emotions. I could feel the weight of his occasional glances, the subtle intensity in his silver eyes as he seemed to study my every expression, as if trying to decipher the intricate map of my inner world. We didn’t speak much during our walk back. There was a quiet understanding that permeated the silence, a sense that words were unnecessary, that our shared emotions trans
The Triplet's Bullied Mate I swear it to you, little star.
Elowen's POV Later that evening the air in the academy courtyard was cool and still, heavy with the unspoken promise of the approaching night. The moonlight, a soft, ethereal glow, filtered through the dense canopy of ancient trees, casting intricate, lace-like shadows over the winding stone paths. I wandered aimlessly, my footsteps silent on the damp flagstones, seeking a momentary escape from the tangled chaos that had become the soundtrack of my days. My heart still felt bruised and unsettled by the morning’s events—Caelum’s subtle provocations, the triplets’ fiercely protective reactions, the barely veiled venom in Alaric’s voice, and, most acutely, the weight of unspoken emotion in Theron’s silver eyes. All day, I had felt their gazes on me, a constant, silent scrutiny. But Theron’s had carried a particular heaviness, a complex tapestry of questions left unasked, feelings deliberately kept unreadable, creating a palpable distance that had settled like a cold knot in my chest.
The Triplet's Bullied Mate Then why does it feel like I’m slowly losing you?
Theron’s POV The morning sun, already climbing high enough to cast sharp, unforgiving shadows across the dusty expanse of the combat arena, beat down with a relentless intensity. But I barely registered its heat. My entire focus, every fiber of my being, was fixed on her—Elowen. She stood on the far side of the training grounds, the polished steel of a practice sword gleaming in her hand, the sound of genuine, unrestrained laughter spilling from her lips as she sparred playfully with Alaric. The way her dark hair caught the sunlight, each strand shimmering like spun obsidian, the subtle yet significant improvement in her fighting stance, the unguarded curve of her smile that always managed to soften something deep and unnamed within me—it all drove a silent, invisible spear straight through my chest. And yet, even through the warm, almost aching haze of admiration that always washed over me when I watched her, a dark, sharp sliver of something akin to jealousy twisted uncomfortabl
The Triplet's Bullied Mate You secretly like it when I’m broody.
Elowen’s POV The academy's training grounds, usually a scene of disciplined exertion, buzzed with a palpable undercurrent of anticipation as students gathered for the afternoon's combat assessment. The sun, beginning its slow descent, cast long, dramatic shadows across the dusty arena, and the air felt thick with a nervous tension that mirrored my own. I stood at the edge of the designated space, consciously trying to steady the erratic rhythm of my breathing, acutely aware of the myriad of eyes watching me—not just the general student body, but the three intense figures who had so irrevocably woven themselves into the very fabric of my world. Alaric, Ranon, and Theron stood a short distance away, their expressions carefully guarded, almost unreadable, yet their mere presence radiated a grounding sense of unwavering support. Despite the lingering awkwardness and barely suppressed tensions from the morning's events, their silent solidarity was a tangible anchor. The instructor’s sha
The Triplet's Bullied Mate Don’t go easy on her just because you were all… sharing a dorm room last night.
Elowen’s POV The morning sunlight, fractured into brilliant beams by the tall, arched windows lining the academy hallways, painted shifting patterns on the ancient stone floors as I walked between the triplets, their solid presences a comforting weight on either side of me. My legs ached with a pleasant fatigue, a subtle reminder of the rooftop rendezvous that had stretched late into the night—not just from the tangled limbs and whispered intimacies, but also from the surprisingly intense sparring match Ranon had “accidentally” initiated before we finally sought sleep. And of course, Alaric had ensured I was thoroughly breathless by the end of his impromptu training session, punctuated by his infuriatingly smug little smirks every time I stumbled. Theron, as was his usual morning demeanor, hadn’t said much. He rarely did before the day truly began. But his hand had brushed mine twice as we walked through the bustling corridors, a fleeting, almost accidental contact, and I knew bette
The Triplet's Bullied Mate Then breathe with me, Elowen.
Elowen's POV The air in the hallway, just beyond the opulent warmth of the dining room, felt surprisingly cool against my flushed cheeks, a silent, almost ghostly whisper against my skin. I hadn’t even registered the frantic pace of my breathing until Alaric stepped directly in front of me once more, his strong hand still a firm, grounding presence on my arm, his usually sharp expression unreadable in the flickering, diffused light cast by the ornate chandelier overhead. “I know you’re overwhelmed, Elowen,” he said softly, his voice a low, steady anchor in the turbulent sea of my emotions, “but please… don’t shut us out. Not now. Not when we’re all trying so damn hard to hold ourselves together, for you.” My lips parted, a jumble of conflicting words and feelings caught behind an invisible wall in my throat. He looked too sincere, too rawly exposed. This wasn’t the familiar, cocky smirk Alaric often wore like a suit of armor, a shield against vulnerability. This was the man beneath
The Triplet's Bullied Mate Planning to sneak out again tonight, sweetheart?
Elowen’s POV The grand dining room of the Blackthorn mansion, a space usually echoing with the confident pronouncements of alpha lineage and the clinking of expensive silverware, was bathed in the warm, almost syrupy golden glow emanating from the ornate crystal chandeliers suspended high above. The light cast long, dancing shadows on the dark, polished marble floor, making the already imposing room feel both opulent and slightly theatrical. The massive mahogany table was laden with an extravagant spread, a testament to the Blackthorn family’s formidable status and their almost ritualistic adherence to providing the best. There were platters piled high with glistening roast meats, bowls overflowing with vibrant steamed vegetables, fragrant mounds of spiced rice, and, my secret indulgence, a basket overflowing with that subtly sweet, honey-glazed bread that I could never quite resist. But despite the tempting array before me, food was the furthest thing from my mind. The air in the
The Triplet's Bullied Mate And I thought I was the chaotic one in this little… quartet.
Elowen’s POV Later that evening the sky was a breathtaking canvas, painted in the soft, fading hues of lavender bleeding into rich gold as the quiet hush of dusk gently draped itself over the sprawling academy grounds. The usual cacophony of training—the sharp clangs of metal colliding, the echoing shouts of students pushing their limits—had long since faded into the peaceful silence of twilight, leaving a serene stillness in its wake. I sat on a small, surprisingly soft patch of grass near the edge of the main sparring field, my knees drawn up to my chest, my fingers absently plucking at a stray blade of grass, its delicate texture a small distraction from the swirling thoughts in my head. I wore one of Ranon’s sweatshirts, a familiar comfort—oversized, incredibly warm, and carrying his unique, intoxicating scent, a blend of spice and something wild. The cool evening breeze whispered across the open field, sending a slight shiver through the exposed skin of my neck, but it wasn’t
The Triplet's Bullied Mate Still think you can resist me, little wildcat?
Elowen’s POV The morning sun, a merciless, judgmental eye in the clear sky, beat down upon the ochre dust of the academy’s main training grounds, its harsh glare starkly illuminating the makeshift arena. A restless sea of students, their faces a mixture of apprehension and eager anticipation, swirled around the perimeter, their hushed whispers and nervous fidgeting creating a palpable hum of tension. The air itself felt thick and heavy, saturated with the mingled scents of sweat, tightly coiled nerves, and the barely perceptible undercurrent of latent magic that always permeated this place. I stood alone just outside the designated sparring circle, the worn leather of my training gloves feeling strangely alien against my clammy palms. Meticulously, I adjusted the straps, the familiar weight a small, tangible comfort against the frantic, erratic hammering of my heart. The tumultuous events of the past few days—the unsettling, intrusive encounter with Lysander, Alaric’s fiercely pos
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