Semua Bab The Triplet's Bullied Mate: Bab 271 - Bab 280

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 We sat like that for a long time, our hands clasped across the cool wood of the kitchen table, the silence a comfortable tapestry woven with unspoken affection and shared understanding. The gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway marked the slow passage of the late hour, each tick a quiet affirmation of the peaceful intimacy that enveloped us. The moonlight continued its silent vigil through the arched window, bathing the deserted kitchen in a soft, ethereal glow. Alaric’s thumb continued its slow, soothing strokes across the back of my hand, a simple gesture that spoke volumes of his quiet tenderness. His silver eyes, still softened by the late hour, held a steady gaze, a silent reassurance that transcended the need for words. In that moment, the complexities of our lives, the ever-present awareness of the triplets’ possessiveness, the weight of the Academy’s scrutiny – all of it seemed to recede, leaving only the profound connection between Alaric and m

Theron’s POVThe grand mansion, usually alive with the soft murmur of conversations and the rhythmic footsteps of its inhabitants, was now cloaked in an unnerving silence. It was the kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, a heavy, suffocating stillness that made every deliberate breath feel like a jarring intrusion into the hushed sanctity of the night. Moonlight, sharp and silver, sliced through the towering, arched windows, casting elongated, dancing shadows that writhed across the age-old, polished stone floors, turning familiar hallways into corridors of spectral mystery. Yet, despite the pervasive stillness that gripped the very bones of the building, a violent storm of emotion, a tempest of possessive fury and simmering jealousy, brewed within the confines of my own being, mirrored in the tense silence of my brothers.I stood just outside Elowen’s bedroom door, the heavy oak panel left slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light escaping into the cool hallway. Her soft,

Theron’s POVThe dawn arrived with a languid grace, its golden tendrils unfurling across the vast expanse of the Academy’s massive windows, slicing sharp, luminous beams across the polished stone floor of the common lounge. The light illuminated the tableau of our intertwined bodies, where Elowen still lay nestled between Ranon and Alaric, a vision of peaceful vulnerability.I remained where I had been throughout the restless night, my long legs stretched out before me, my back pressed against the cool, unyielding stone of the wall, my arms folded tightly across my chest. But my stillness was a deceptive facade. Beneath the outward calm, every nerve ending was acutely aware, every muscle coiled with a possessive tension. I wasn’t resting; I was watching her, my gaze an invisible tether connecting us.She stirred in the depths of her sleep, a soft, almost childlike movement, murmuring something incoherent, her cheek nuzzling against the solid warmth of Ranon’s chest. A low growl, prima

Theron’s POVThe rain, a persistent veil earlier, now clung to us like a second skin, the soft, cool mist of it still swirling in the night air, clinging to our eyelashes and dampening the strands of Elowen’s hair that escaped Alaric’s too-large jacket. Her hand, small and trusting, was tucked securely within the warm, calloused grip of mine, her steps slow and heavy with a delicious exhaustion as we guided her back toward the imposing stone walls of the academy.Alaric’s dark leather jacket, usually molded perfectly to his broad shoulders, now swallowed her petite frame, the collar pulled high around her neck, a silent, possessive claim. Ranon’s large hand hovered protectively near the small of her back, a constant, reassuring presence, ready to steady her if her tired limbs faltered.She was quiet, her body radiating a boneless weariness, the sweet aftermath of being so thoroughly, so completely adored by all three of us weighing her down like a comforting blanket. But her eyes – go