Noir_Rune

"You’re ours," Varen whispered, his voice a velvet threat, "and we don’t share unless it’s with each other."

I was never supposed to matter.
An omega raised in the shadows, hidden behind my warrior family's shame, I only ever wanted to survive. Maybe, if I was lucky, find love with someone like me— someone quiet. Gentle. Unseen.

But the moon had other plans.
And under its eerie blue glow, three impossibly powerful, dangerously beautiful Alphas—triplets— claimed me as their mate.

Varen. The charming firebrand with a wicked tongue and a sugarcane smile.
Kiel. The silent forest poet who sings to wolves and kisses like moonlight.
Thorne. The battle-scarred leader who doesn’t believe in fate... yet burns when I walk away.

They were meant to lead the pack.

I was meant to be nothing.

Now I’m caught between them — between chaos and devotion, between savage protection and secret longing. I should have run the night they called me "mate." But when my bloodline reveals a rare power the world thought extinct, I become the key to a storm that could tear our world apart.

Betrayal bleeds through every shadow.

My family sold me.

My enemies want to own me.

And love? It was never supposed to look like this.

But maybe fate didn’t get it wrong.

Maybe I was never made for one mate.

Maybe I was made for them all.

The Three Who Chose Me

I kept staring at the path long after Kiel was gone, like maybe—just maybe—he'd change his mind and come back for me. But he didn't. Of course he didn't. The rooftop was silent now, except for the barely-there sound of the guards' heavy boots behind me.

They hadn't moved an inch. Useless statues. Watching me, judging me, breathing like their presence was supposed to mean something. I hated them. I hated that they were there to witness me fall apart.

I hated even more that I'd let myself fall for any of them.

My fingers trembled as I dragged them through my hair, fighting off the sting in my chest. I wanted to scream, to rip off the jacket Kiel had given me and throw it off the roof, but I couldn't. It still smelled like him. And that made it worse.

The Breaking Point