Semua Bab The Triplet's Bullied Mate: Bab 351 - Bab 360

Elowen’s POV The morning mist curled around our ankles as we moved silently through the trees, ghostly tendrils clinging to the damp earth. The cold air was sharp with dew, biting at my exposed skin, but it was a welcome sensation, grounding me in the present. The forest was hushed, holding its breath, the pre-dawn quiet broken only by the soft crunch of our footsteps on fallen leaves and the distant, almost imperceptible chirping of a waking bird. Ranon walked beside me, his presence a warm, solid anchor. His injured hand, still carefully wrapped in clean white bandages, was held slightly away from his body, but his eyes were sharp, alert, scanning the shadows, missing nothing. Alaric, ever the scout, had moved ahead, a fleeting shadow among the deeper gloom of the ancient oaks. He had found the perfect clearing for us—an isolated patch of soft earth and shadow, a natural amphitheater shielded from prying academy eyes by thick layers of magic, complex wards the triplets had painsta

Alaric's POV The car hummed along the winding road, the engine a steady, comforting thrum against the backdrop of the wind. Elowen was curled up in the backseat, her feet pulled under her, tucked against her body. Ranon sat beside her, his long arm stretched behind her shoulders, his presence a warm, solid wall against the seat. She hadn’t said much since we left the academy, but her eyes were softer now, less brittle, a tiny bit of the tension having begun to unwind. The wind tangled her hair through the open window, whipping strands around her face, and her fingers tapped absently against her knee in time with the gentle rhythm of the music humming through the speakers. Theron drove, surprisingly calm at the wheel, his usual intensity muted by the quiet purpose of our escape. He handled the car with effortless grace, navigating the unfamiliar roads with a quiet focus. I sat in the front passenger seat, turned halfway so I could watch her—really watch her. Not with the analytical e

Elowen's POV I whimpered, a soft sound of surrender, as his kisses deepened, his lips plundering mine with a hungry intensity. His hands explored reverently, possessively, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip, the line of my thigh, leaving a trail of fire. When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, dazed, my body humming with a mixture of desire and a profound sense of being utterly seen, utterly accepted. “You’re mine,” he growled against my neck, his voice rough with passion, his teeth lightly grazing my skin. “No magic, no fate, no enemy will ever take you from me. You are inextricably bound to me. To us.” Ranon found me last, as I wandered back toward the water’s edge, still catching my breath, my mind reeling from the intensity of the past few moments, from the raw, intimate connections with Alaric and Theron. He said nothing—just reached for me, his large hands cupping my face, his golden eyes blazing with a fierce, almost desperate hunger. He pulled me into him with

Elowen’s POV The garden was quiet, too quiet, cloaked in an unnatural stillness that felt heavier than usual. The moonlight, usually a source of comfort and strength, seemed to press down, cold and indifferent. The triplets had left hours ago for a crucial meeting with their pack elders, their faces grim, their absence leaving a gaping hole in the protective circle I had come to rely on. I stayed behind, promising I’d rest—but my body had other plans. My nerves were frayed, stretched taut like violin strings, vibrating with a nameless dread. I couldn’t stop trembling. Every time I closed my eyes, Caelum’s face swam before me, his silver eyes burning with possessive hunger. I felt the phantom grip of his hand locking around my wrist, the insidious whisper of his spell trying to bind me, trying to force a Luna claim. It still clung to my skin like smoke—filthy, invasive, a violation that left me feeling unclean and powerless. And worse… my magic hadn’t protected me. The raw, untamed

Elowen's POV The air grew hotter with every step, growing dense and thick, not with oppressive heat, but with a palpable, ancient magic. My skin began to glow faintly, reflecting the vibrant crimson light emanating from the depths, my very cells vibrating in response to the surging energy. The rhythmic thrumming intensified, a deep, resonant hum that seemed to echo from the core of the earth. When I reached the bottom, the staircase dissolving behind me, I found myself in a vast, cavernous chamber. It was lit by an unearthly red glow, pulsating from the very stone. Before me stood a ring of women, cloaked in robes of deep crimson and shadow-black, their forms indistinct in the flickering light. Their eyes, when they turned to me, were like embers—burning, ancient, and filled with a profound sorrow mixed with fierce determination. Each one bore a distinct mark on her throat—a subtle, shimmering scar, like a brand of silence, a testament to a shared suffering. One woman stepped fo