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The Dream Realm.
Last Updated:
2025-05-25 23:50:30
Latest chapter
The Triplet's Bullied Mate More like… a vision, maybe.
Elowen’s POV The morning sun, usually a welcome beacon of warmth and renewed hope, seemed utterly devoid of its comforting embrace. Its golden rays spilled across the familiar contours of my room, gilding the polished wooden furniture and throwing soft, broken beams across the floorboards, but against my skin, it felt remarkably cold, almost alien. I sat curled at the very edge of the bed, knees drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, my gaze fixed intently on my hands. They weren’t glowing now, nor did they ripple with the visible currents of raw power that had coursed through them in the dream. They looked perfectly normal—steady, soft, pale fingers, bearing only the faint, familiar scars from countless hours of combat training and the minor scrapes of childhood mischief. Yet, I could still feel the phantom echo of the fire, the subtle, insistent thrum of something wild and untamed just beneath the surface of my skin. It was like the distant memory of a burn long s
The Triplet's Bullied Mate The Dream Realm.
Elowen’s POV It began, not with a roar, but with the insidious, mesmerizing sound of flames. Not the chaotic devourment of a raging wildfire, but the soft, insistent crackle of something ancient—slow-burning, steady, patient, like a heart beating deep within the earth. I opened my eyes, and found myself standing in a place utterly alien, yet strangely familiar. The world around me shimmered with an ethereal glow, like moonlight on undisturbed water. The trees, tall and impossibly slender, were crafted from pale, polished silver, their leaves rustling with a delicate, almost musical whisper, each rustle a secret shared on the wind. Above, the sky was a deep, impossible violet, a tapestry woven with stars like molten gold, scattered across its vast expanse like glittering jewels. The air, cool and crisp, carried the faint, sweet scent of something ancient and wild. I was barefoot. The ground beneath my feet was soft, yielding like moss, yet it hummed with an undeniable, resonant po
The Triplet's Bullied Mate You were born to burn, little star.
Elowen’s POV The academy courtyard, usually a vibrant tapestry of voices and hurried footsteps, was remarkably quieter than usual. Most of the students had retreated indoors, either finishing up their rigorous combat drills or undergoing the meticulous cleanup after a day of assessments. I, however, found myself drawn to the cooling air, a desperate need for space, a quiet sanctuary to clear my head before the inevitable return to the bustling, sometimes suffocating, atmosphere of the mansion. I sank onto the cool stone bench nestled beneath the sprawling branches of the tall ashwood tree near the gurgling fountain, a thick, leather-bound book resting forgotten in my lap. My fingers idly traced the worn edges of its cover, but my mind was a million miles away, still wrestling with the day's events. Theron’s comforting scent still lingered faintly on my skin—a heady blend of damp earth, the clean tang of a coming storm, and his own unique warmth. His embrace in the library, a quiet
The Triplet's Bullied Mate I hated it with a cold, simmering intensity that surprised even me.
Caelum’s POV I stood just beyond the grand archway that led into the east wing of the academy library, half-shrouded in the intricate patterns of filtered twilight that poured through the towering stained-glass windows. The air was cool and still, carrying the faint, comforting scent of aging parchment and polished wood. From this vantage point, concealed by the deep shadows, I possessed a clear and unobstructed view of everything—and, more significantly, I could see them. Theron had her in his arms. Not in the casual, almost reflexive way that wolves, even bonded ones, tend to drape themselves over one another when the innate pack bond hums too loudly, a reassuring constant in their lives. No, this was something profoundly different. Intimate. Profoundly protective. Deeply, fiercely personal. His large hand lingered on the back of her head, his fingers curling gently into the soft, silken strands of her hair as if she were the only tangible thing tethering him to this often-br
The Triplet's Bullied Mate Let’s skip the rest of the day.
Elowen’s POV The academy library was a sanctuary, a quiet haven of hushed reverence and stillness. It was cool, almost chilly, after the simmering tension of the courtyard, its tall, arching stained-glass windows filtering the harsh morning sunlight into soft, dappled patterns of golden light that danced across the ancient wooden shelves. Dust motes, caught in the ethereal beams, floated lazily through the air like tiny, shimmering galaxies as I stepped between rows of towering books, the faint sound of my boots muffled by the thick, plush carpeted floor. I needed quiet. A deep, pervasive silence that could somehow drown out the incessant, cruel whispers that had clung to me all morning, the memory of Lysander’s smirking arrogance, the suffocating weight of a hundred curious stares. More than that, I needed… peace. A profound sense of calm that felt increasingly elusive in my life. Theron followed me silently, his footsteps a soft, steady presence behind me, a comforting counterp
The Triplet's Bullied Mate You’re just a pathetic distraction.
Elowen’s POV The sun, a brilliant, almost blinding disc, hung high over the sprawling academy grounds as I stepped into the main courtyard, a worn leather-bound notebook clutched tightly in my arms. The open-air pathways were already a bustling hive of activity, swarming with students rushing to their various elective classes—strategic planning, elemental theory, the intricate studies of political lineage. Mercifully, today was not a combat training day. A small, much-needed reprieve. Still, despite the relative calm of the academic atmosphere, I felt the familiar prickle of eyes on me, a constant, almost physical sensation. The whispers had returned, a low, persistent hum that seemed to follow my every step. I could feel their collective curiosity pressing in from every angle—about last night, about my conspicuous absence from the dorms and my very public return with Alaric. About why Ranon and Theron had hovered so close by all morning, flanking me like fiercely possessive sent
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