Elowen’s POV “Ranon,” I breathed, my voice a ragged whisper, a plea that echoed the desperate yearning in the depths of my soul. The question in his burning golden eyes needed no verbal answer; the overwhelming need within me was a language all its own. In a single, fluid movement that spoke of his inherent strength and a sudden, fierce urgency, he swept me off the cold stone wall, his powerful arms cradling my weight as if I were no more than a feather. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, a silent, primal claiming, a desperate embrace that mirrored the magnetic pull between us. He carried me with a focused intensity to the center of the rooftop, where a small, timeworn stone bench sat nestled against the crumbling outer wall, a silent witness to countless nights under the watchful gaze of the stars. He lowered me carefully onto the smooth, flat surface, the ancient stone instantly cold against my heated skin, a stark contrast to the inferno raging within me. He stepped
Elowen’s POVThe morning light, sharp and unforgiving, sliced through the tall arched windows of the Academy halls, illuminating the usual early-hour bustle of students shuffling to classes, their hushed whispers and the rhythmic thud of training boots echoing off the ancient stone walls. But this morning, the familiar weight of the Academy’s ever-present scrutiny felt different, amplified by the lingering sensations of the night before.I walked into the classroom, the ghost of Ranon’s calloused hands still imprinted on my skin, the phantom warmth of his possessive grip a constant reminder. The echo of his desperate, hungry kiss still lingered on my lips, a secret fire that threatened to betray the tremor in my hands. It was a different kind of awareness that accompanied me now, a knowledge shared in the darkness, a boundary crossed under the silent watch of the stars.He sat near the back of the spacious classroom, his chair tilted back at that characteristic, precarious angle that
Elowen’s POVThe morning sun, a brazen intruder, spilled through the expansive glass windows of the Academy’s combat arena, painting the polished stone floors in streaks of gold and illuminating the raw tension that already thrummed beneath the surface of the bustling room. The air crackled with a palpable anticipation, a familiar energy that always accompanied combat drills, especially those involving the top-tier Alphas – the triplets.But this morning felt different. The usual undercurrent of excitement was thick with a new layer of scrutiny, a palpable curiosity that had intensified ever since the stolen kisses – Ranon’s desperate claim on the rooftop, Alaric’s gentle solace in the rain-soaked gardens, Theron’s fiery promise in the quiet of his room. Every stolen glance, every shared secret, had seemingly been magnified under the Academy’s ever-watchful eyes.Whispers, sharp and insidious, clung to the edges of the walls like grasping shadows, their hushed tones carrying the weigh
Elowen's POV Second Round – Alaric. Alaric was already waiting in the center of the mat, rolling his broad shoulders, his dark hair pulled back in a tight knot, his jaw set with a focused determination. His silver eyes were locked on mine – not intense with possessiveness like Ranon’s, not teasingly sharp like Theron’s. Just… intensely focused, a silent promise of a challenging but fair fight. “You okay, sunshine?” he asked softly, his voice a low rumble that only I could hear, even as we began to circle each other, the tension between us a palpable thing. “I’m always okay, Alaric.” The automatic response felt hollow, even to my own ears. “You don’t have to be, you know.” His gaze softened for a fleeting moment, a hint of the gentle soul beneath the stoic exterior. Before I could formulate a response, he struck, his movements fast and powerful, each blow precise and calculated. Alaric fought like a controlled storm – a whirlwind of disciplined chaos. And he always, always pushe
Elowen’s POV The air in the Academy’s combat hall, a vast chamber usually echoing with the clang of steel and the grunts of exertion, crackled with a palpable, almost electric tension even before Professor Lyra’s crisp voice sliced through the anticipatory silence. I sat wedged between Alaric and Theron on the long, polished wooden bench that lined the edge of the expansive sparring floor. Ranon, ever the sentinel, hadn’t allowed me more than a few feet of breathing room since the charged intimacy of the rooftop. His calloused fingers, possessive and reassuring, grazed the back of my hand every few heartbeats, a silent, tactile reminder to both himself and anyone watching that I was still within his orbit—still his. But the moment Caelum stepped onto the gleaming sparring floor, a ripple of altered energy spread through the room, a subtle shift in the students’ collective focus. He moved with a predatory grace, his tall, muscular frame encased in black training leathers that seemed
Elowen’s POV The rest of the day at the Academy passed in a blur of lectures and drills, each moment punctuated by the subtle awareness of the triplets’ watchful gazes. Ranon’s hand never strayed far, a possessive warmth against my skin. Alaric’s silver eyes followed me with a quiet intensity, a silent promise of unwavering support. Theron’s sharp observations and sardonic remarks were always directed my way, a constant, teasing reminder of our intertwined lives. The undercurrent of the morning’s events lingered, a subtle shift in the way the other students interacted with me. There was a newfound respect, tinged with a healthy dose of fear, in their eyes. Caelum’s defeat at my hands had clearly sent a ripple through the Academy’s hierarchy. As dusk began to paint the sky in hues of fiery orange and soft violet, we found ourselves in the training gardens, a secluded sanctuary tucked away behind the main buildings. The air was fragrant with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and da
Elowen’s POV The night with Ranon was a whirlwind of raw sensation and possessive tenderness. His touch was demanding, his kisses branding, each caress a silent claim. Yet, beneath the fierce exterior, there was a surprising gentleness, a deep-seated need to connect on a level that transcended mere physicality. We lost ourselves in each other, the cool stone of the gazebo a stark contrast to the burning heat of our bodies entwined under the watchful gaze of the moon. When dawn finally broke, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and gold, I awoke nestled in his arms, the lingering scent of our passion clinging to the air. He was still asleep, his dark hair tousled, his strong arms wrapped protectively around me. A sense of deep contentment settled within me, a quiet understanding of the intricate tapestry of my relationships with the triplets. Each connection was unique, each filled a different part of me, and last night had been a powerful reminder of the intense, undeniable bond
Elowen’s POV The remainder of the evening passed with a renewed sense of quiet solidarity. The brief intrusion by Lysander had served as a stark reminder of the outside world’s perception of our unconventional bond, but it had also solidified the unwavering unity between the triplets and me. Ranon’s possessive hand never left mine, Alaric’s protective arm remained draped across my shoulders, and Theron’s occasional sardonic remarks were now laced with an extra layer of territoriality. Later, as the common room emptied and the Academy settled into its nightly quiet, we retreated to the triplets’ suite. The familiar comfort of their shared living space, the scent of their combined pheromones a soothing balm to my senses, eased the lingering tension of the day. Ranon had built a roaring fire in the hearth, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Alaric was meticulously cleaning his blades, the rhythmic shick-shick of the whetstone a familiar sound. Theron was
Elowen's POV His grip tightened, and his hips bucked forward, hitting the back of my throat, and I moaned, the sensation a delightful mix of pleasure and pain. Alaric shifted forward, his lips closing around the nipple that Theron had been neglecting, his fingers teasing the other. Theron kissed my shoulder, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and his hands slid across the front of my panties, gently rubbing, the pressure eliciting a new wave of desire. Then Ranon tightened his grip on my hair, and the world blurred, his cock hitting the back of my throat, the sensation sending a ripple of pleasure straight to the aching apex of my thighs. I moaned, a sound he clearly felt, and a string of curses fell from his lips, his hips thrusting more forcefully, hitting the back of my throat again and again, the sensation pushing me closer and closer to the edge, the pressure building between my thighs. A familiar hand cupped the front of my panties, and a second later Theron ripped
Elowen's POV “I want to mark you, Elowen,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “Not just with a bite, a physical claim. I want the world to know, unequivocally, that you are ours. That you belong to us, body and soul.” My heart raced, a thrill mixed with a sense of profound belonging coursing through me. “Then… show me, Ranon.” He captured my lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue seeking entry, exploring the warm cavern of my mouth with a gentle insistence. Then a second pair of hands slid across my chest, his thumbs finding the sensitive skin beneath the swell of my breasts, and my breath hitched. Theron. His fingers gently lifted my shirt, a low, approving growl sounding from his chest when he saw the black lace of my bra. Then he pushed the fabric further, his calloused fingers finding the taut peaks of my nipples and tweaking, eliciting a low moan from my throat. My senses were overloading, every nerve ending coming alive, the intoxicating scent of sa
Elowen’s POVThe sun, a molten orb of amber and gold, had just begun its slow descent below the jagged horizon, painting the western sky in fiery hues that bled into soft violets and deep oranges. The tall, arched windows of the triplets’ private quarters, a sprawling suite they had painstakingly personalized, cast long, dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls, the flickering light resembling the hushed whispers of old magic, secrets stirring in the very fabric of the mansion. I stood before the crackling fireplace, the warmth radiating against my back doing little to thaw the lingering tension that still coiled within me like a tightly wound knot after the day’s unsettling events.They hadn’t spoken much after Caelum’s unexpected appearance in the combat hall. Not in explicit words, at least. But their silent communication had been deafening. The way they walked closer to me than usual, their bodies a constant, protective presence; the unwavering intensity of Theron’s gaze, barely
Elowen's POVThe next morning golden sunlight, fractured by the delicate weave of the gauzy curtains, painted shifting patterns across the dark wooden floors of our shared bedroom, finally settling in warm, inviting pools on the soft, rumpled sheets tangled around my limbs. For a few blissful, stolen seconds, cocooned in the lingering warmth of their bodies and the faint scent of their skin, I managed to forget everything—the rigid rules of the academy, the ever-present hum of latent magic, the unseen threats lurking in the shadows, the hushed whispers that followed me like a persistent echo. All that registered was the steady, comforting warmth of a muscular body pressed intimately against my back.Ranon’s strong arm was draped possessively over my waist, his calloused fingers splayed against the soft skin of my stomach, a silent claim that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine. Behind me, I could hear the soft, even rhythm of Alaric’s breathing, a reassuring presence in the quiet roo
Elowen's POV When his thumb brushed the thin, soaked fabric of my panties, a strangled whimper escaped my lips, a sound raw with need. The ache between my legs intensified, a sharp, insistent throbbing that demanded his touch, their touch. “Gods, you’re so wet, Elowen,” Ranon muttered against my skin, his breath hot and ragged against my inner thigh, the possessive observation sending another shiver of anticipation through me. Then his finger slipped beneath the delicate edge of the fabric, gliding with exquisite slowness over my slick, swollen heat, and I couldn’t help the involuntary moan that spilled from my lips, my head falling back against the cool, rough stone of the rooftop as a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure shuddered through my core. Ranon groaned, the sound low and guttural, a primal rumble that vibrated against my skin, his fingers stroking against me with a teasing gentleness that left me trembling uncontrollably, every nerve ending screaming for more. “I want
Elowen’s POV The cool night air, sharp with the scent of distant rain and damp stone, pressed in around us, no longer a chill but a warm, endless cocoon, isolating us from the rest of the sleeping Academy. Above, the celestial canvas was a breathtaking spectacle, the stars spun in dizzying, intricate patterns, a thousand tiny, silent witnesses to the beautiful, chaotic storm raging within my heart. I felt like I was burning from the inside out, a slow, consuming fire ignited by their nearness, their unwavering gazes. Surrounded by them—Alaric’s steady, grounding strength, Theron’s consuming, passionate fire, Ranon’s wild, untamed hunger—I was drowning in the magnetic pull that bound us together, a force both terrifying and exhilarating. And I didn’t want to be saved. I yearned to succumb, to be completely consumed by the intensity of our connection. I wanted to drown in the depths of their devotion. “Look at me, little star,” Theron whispered, his voice a rough, urgent rasp that r
Elowen’s POVThe night pressed down on the Academy like a heavy velvet shroud, suffocating and restless. Even after the last echoes of footsteps faded down the long corridors and the heavy oak doors of the student rooms clicked shut, sealing everyone into their private spaces, sleep remained a distant, unattainable shore for me. I paced the confines of my room, the moonlight filtering through the tall, arched windows, casting pale silver rectangles across the dark, polished hardwood floors, my mind a relentless whirlwind of anxieties and unanswered questions, spinning endlessly around Caelum’s cryptic words and the Triplets’ simmering fury.They had been a silent, ominous presence throughout dinner in the grand hall. Dangerously, furiously silent. Their usual banter and playful jabs absent, replaced by a taut, almost palpable tension that crackled in the air around us like an impending storm gathering strength, the heavy clouds of their anger darkening their eyes. I knew, with a certa
Elowen's POVThe sun was a pale, watery smudge behind a thick blanket of heavy, bruised clouds as I stepped into the Academy’s main courtyard the next morning. The cool wind, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and distant rain, stirred the loose strands of my hair around my shoulders, a fleeting caress that did little to dispel the deeper chill that snaked its way down my spine.It wasn’t the bite of the autumn air that made my skin prickle with unease.It was the way they watched me.Alaric.Theron.Ranon.My mates.Their gazes, sharp and possessive, followed my every movement across the bustling courtyard with such focused, unwavering intensity that it felt like a tangible pressure against my skin, a silent, invisible touch that both reassured and unnerved me. Protective. Possessive. Fierce. Their united front was a comforting shield, yet sometimes, the sheer weight of their attention felt like a gilded cage.And now, adding another layer to the already charged atmosphere, Caelu
Theron’s POVThe silence in the grand hall was thick enough to cut with a knife. Every fork clinked a little too loudly, every hushed conversation seemed to die in its tracks. All eyes were on us. On Elowen.I kept my arm possessively around her shoulders, my fingers lightly tracing the curve of her neck beneath the collar of Alaric’s jacket she still wore. A silent warning to anyone who dared to look too long.Ranon’s presence behind us was a palpable weight, a silent promise of retribution to anyone who might consider challenging our claim. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the barely leashed possessiveness that mirrored my own.Alaric, ever the pragmatist, continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening, but his silver eyes flicked around the hall, assessing the reactions, cataloging the threats. His hand, resting casually on the table, was close enough to Elowen’s to reach her instantly.Elowen, bless her oblivious heart, seemed more concerned with the plate of fruit i