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Home / Werewolf / The Triplet's Bullied Mate / You secretly like it when I’m broody.

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You secretly like it when I’m broody.

Author: Ava
last update Last Updated: 2025-05-11 00:09:04

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
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  • The Triplet's Bullied Mate   I killed him.

    Elowen's POV He’d used me. He’d used my own power, my own blood, to fuel his twisted desires. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow, a surge of burning rage unlike anything I had ever known. Ranon, bruised and bleeding, tried to rise again, pushing himself up, limping, a grimace of pain on his face, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He wouldn't stay down. Not while his brothers, and I, were still fighting. “Stay down!” I cried, my voice tearing. “Please, Ranon, stay down!” “I won’t,” he growled, staggering another step forward, his golden eyes fixed on Caelum with unyielding hatred. “Not while he’s breathing. Not while he threatens you.” Caelum, his face a mask of triumph and dark exhilaration, raised a hand toward Ranon, dark fire coiling in his palm, gathering into a lethal, concentrated ball of energy. He intended to finish him. And that was the moment I broke. I felt it tear through me—not a pain, but an unstoppable surge of energy, a s

  • The Triplet's Bullied Mate   Shut your fucking mouth!!!

    Elowen's POV The air was still, a heavy, suffocating blanket that pressed down on the ancient forest. It was the kind of stillness that spoke not of peace, but of impending death, a held breath before the final plunge. The twisted, knotted trees ahead loomed like skeletal guardians, their branches clawing at the bruised twilight sky. Every root, every shadow, every cursed leaf of the Hollow Forest hummed with a malevolent magic that wasn't mine, yet it recognized me, responded to the newly awakened power thrumming beneath my skin. It was a dark symphony, and I was the unexpected conductor. The Triplets moved ahead of me, their forms lean and lethal in the dim light, their every step a testament to their calculated precision. Their bodies hummed with a restrained rage, a barely leashed ferocity that made the very air around them crackle. They didn't speak. They didn't have to. The unspoken pact, the shared fury, resonated between us, a silent language understood in the deep recess

  • The Triplet's Bullied Mate   It’s a claim.

    Elowen’s POV The air shifted, a subtle, insidious ripple that wasn’t of the wind or the night. One moment, I was sparring with Ranon, my violet-blue witchflame dancing around my fists, the satisfying ache of exertion a familiar comfort. The next, a cold, foreign tendril of magic snaked into my core, coiling around my newfound power. My knees buckled, the strength draining from my limbs as if the earth itself had betrayed me. Ranon, ever vigilant, caught me instantly, his powerful arms tightening around my waist, pulling me against his warm, solid form. “El? What is it? What’s wrong?” His voice was a guttural rumble of concern, his golden eyes searching my face, already sensing the unseen threat. My skin prickled, a thousand tiny needles piercing my aura. My magic, usually a vibrant, eager presence, recoiled, pulling in on itself, a frightened beast retreating into the depths of my soul. I could feel it in my blood, in the ancient, burning runes etched into my arms – a searing disco

  • The Triplet's Bullied Mate   The Ritual of Claiming

    Caelum's POV The hidden cave reeked of blood and old spells, a potent, metallic tang mingling with the sharp, acrid scent of ancient, forbidden magic. It was a scent that clung to the damp stone walls, seeped into the very earth, and permeated my skin. A sickly, fireless glow illuminated the intricate carvings etched across the rough stone. These weren't the weak symbols of blessings or protection; no, these were symbols of possession, of absolute control, and of unmaking. A dismantling of what was, to reshape it into what I desired. I knelt before them, shirtless, my powerful frame a stark silhouette against the eerie luminescence. My pale skin was smeared in ash and binding ink, ancient substances that crackled with dormant energy. My silver eyes, usually cold and calculating, were locked onto the flickering glyphs, burning with a fervent, almost manic intensity as I whispered in the old tongue—words not meant for human or wolf ears, words that vibrated with a primal authority. T

  • The Triplet's Bullied Mate   Whatever Caelum was planning…

    Elowen's POV Ranon knelt beside me, ignoring Theron, brushing my hair from my face with a gentle hand, his touch a profound comfort. His gaze was filled with a deep, concerned tenderness. “You alright, El? Any serious damage?” I nodded, breathless, but something inside me was shifting. The anger, the fear, the doubt—it was all coalescing into a sharp, focused determination. “I’m fine. I… I want to go again.” The words were raw, laced with a new kind of hunger. He helped me to my feet, his strong hand supporting my elbow. Then, with his free hand, he drew a symbol on my shoulder with his fingertips—one of the complex, ancient runes from his family, a wolf’s head entwined with a crescent moon. A grounding mark, a protection. His magic seeped into my skin, a warm, resonant hum, and I felt it—his presence, his strength—rooting me like an unshakeable anchor. “Let go, Elowen,” he whispered, his golden eyes holding mine, filled with an unwavering trust. “Let the fire take you. We’ll

  • The Triplet's Bullied Mate    She’s pushed far enough.

    Elowen’s POV The training grounds had never looked so alive. Or maybe that was just me. The familiar clearing, usually a simple patch of earth, now pulsed with a vibrant energy, bathed in the sharp morning light. The air shimmered with an almost visible heat, a subtle distortion that spoke of raw power. My own magic swirled just beneath the surface of my skin, restless and eager, pulsing like a second, wild heartbeat in sync with the ancient rhythm of the earth itself. I could feel its pull in my fingertips, a tingling sensation, in the marrow of my bones, a deep resonant hum, and even in the subtle way the wind responded to my breath, swirling around me in gentle eddies. Alaric stood across from me, a formidable silhouette against the rising sun. He was shirtless, his skin gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat, every muscle defined. His swords were strapped to his back, silent witnesses to our ritual. Today wasn’t about weapons, about physical combat, or even about wolf magic. It

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