All Chapters of The Triplet's Bullied Mate: Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

Alaric’s POVDawn bled across the horizon, painting the ancient stone floor of our shared chamber in hues of rose and gold. The light, usually a welcome sight, felt like an intrusion this morning, starkly illuminating the emptiness beside me. My hand, still heavy with the remnants of sleep, instinctively reached for the familiar warmth of Elowen’s presence.It met only the cool, crisp linen of undisturbed sheets.A jolt, sharp and unsettling, shot through me. My eyes snapped fully open, the lingering fog of sleep instantly banished. The blanket she habitually burrowed beneath lay folded with an unnerving tidiness at the foot of the bed, a stark testament to her absence.“Elowen?” The name escaped my lips, a rough whisper in the echoing silence of the room.I pushed myself up, the silk of my sleep shirt clinging uncomfortably. My gaze swept the room, lingering on the small, familiar details – the scattered books on her nightstand, the half-finished sketchpad resting against the wall, t

Alaric’s POVThe weight of her in my arms was a stark contrast to the vibrant, fiery spirit that usually defined Elowen. She was a whirlwind of motion, a sharp wit, a force of nature barely contained within her slender frame. To feel her so pliant, so utterly still, sent a fresh wave of icy dread washing over me. She barely stirred as I carried her across the worn threshold of our shared sanctuary, the grand doors of the mansion closing silently behind us, shutting out the lingering shadows of the dawn.Her head nestled beneath my chin, her dark, tangled hair brushing softly against my jaw. One arm, usually so quick to gesture or to reach out in affection, lay loosely around my shoulder, offering no real support. The other rested limply in her lap, her fingers pale and still. I hated this. I loathed the sight of her diminished, drained of the incandescent energy that usually crackled around her like summer lightning. ‘Fragile’ was a word that should never be associated with Elowen. Sh

Elowen’s POVWarmth. It enveloped me like a soft, downy blanket, a stark contrast to the cold dread that had clung to me the night before. It wasn’t just the lingering heat of the blankets, but a deeper, more profound warmth that seeped into my bones, chasing away the lingering chill of the forest night. It was the warmth of safety, of being surrounded, of not being alone in the darkness. It was the quiet, unwavering presence of them.And then, the scent. A symphony of familiar aromas that always grounded me, always reminded me of home. Ranon’s deep, earthy scent, like the rich soil of the wild woods after a summer rain, grounding and strong. Alaric’s crisp cedar and the comforting mustiness of old books, a scent that spoke of quiet intellect and unwavering stability. And Theron’s unique blend of cool steel and the electric tang of an approaching storm, fierce and protective, a constant reminder of his unwavering vigilance.I cracked my eyes open, the lids feeling heavy, as if weighte

Ranon’s POVThe restless energy that coursed through me was a tangible thing, a simmering undercurrent of fear and possessiveness that threatened to boil over. I couldn’t stand still. I couldn’t focus. The image of Caelum’s smug, knowing smile, the echo of his cryptic words, played on repeat in my mind, fueling the primal urge to protect, to claim, to obliterate any threat to Elowen’s well-being.She had been unnervingly quiet on the walk back from the training grounds. The usual spark, the quick wit, the playful banter – all extinguished, replaced by a heavy, unsettling silence. And Elowen’s silence wasn’t like anyone else’s. It wasn’t a peaceful stillness, but a pregnant pause, a gathering storm. It was the hush before a scream, the tautness of a bowstring before the arrow is released, the razor’s edge before it cuts.I hated it. I loathed the feeling of being shut out, of being unable to reach her, to soothe the turmoil that I knew was raging beneath the surface.Alaric, ever the s

Elowen’s POVThe warmth of the blankets cocooned me as soft light spilled through the tall windows of the mansion. My leg ached dully beneath the layers of gauze, but the pain was bearable now. Familiar. Like the weight of a scar still healing.Ranon wasn’t beside me anymore.For a moment, I lay there—disoriented and surrounded by silence. The spot where he’d held me last night was cold now, the room empty of the quiet protectiveness I’d fallen asleep to.I rubbed my eyes, breathing in the faint scent of chamomile and cedar that still lingered on my pillow. My throat felt dry again, but the thirst wasn’t what drove me to sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.It was something else.Something missing.Someone.A hollow ache sat in my chest like I’d forgotten something important. I tried to shake it off, carefully limping toward the door.The mansion was still, the kind of stillness that felt wrong—like everyone was waiting for something. Or hiding.I found Ranon and Alaric