His Silent Temptation

Chapter 11 - The Thornov Brothers

S e l e n e

—

My newfound status never dawned on me. Even when everyone in the hospital showed me the highest respect or when I was discharged and taken back in a luxurious car, I wasn’t aware of it all. Because of the bandages on my feet, I had to be wheeled into the enormous estate that must’ve housed more than forty rooms.

“All of the Thornov brothers live here,” Chester chirped from behind the wheelchair. “There are five wings in the house, one for each of us brothers, and another for guests or events, though that’s rare. The majority of our pack members either live in the apartments that Thornov Pack own or the suburban neighborhood just a mile away from the land.”

Just how much money did the continent’s largest pack possess? I swallowed hard, remembering that the drive beyond the gated community just to reach the Thornov mansion took ten minutes. I had seen another sign near the entrance of the gates that led to a neighborhood of where I assume the majority of the Thornov Pack members lived. I curiously peered up at him, eager for more information.

“You might think that makes us prone to attacks,” Chester said. “With how spread apart our pack houses, hospital, and most things are, but you can rest assured. No one is foolish enough to step onto our armed and guarded territory.”

I nodded my head, waiting for him to tell me more. Why was he so friendly with me? It wasn’t like I could ask him, nor would he understand my sign language. With Killian’s blank and piercing stare, I began to realize no one would understand me.

I was haunted by that thought. Even if I were to scream, no one would recognize it was me. Even if I were abused, no one would know.

My heart stopped.

I had basically landed myself from Malore’s abusive prison to Killian’s unpredictable cage.

“Trespassers are shot and ripped into shreds on sight,” Chester teased, bending his face to level it near mine. I froze, worried about what he’d do to me. His large hazel eyes peered into mine with great curiosity, as if I was an unsolvable riddle.

I didn’t know much about the Thornov brothers. Malore never let me listen in on anything. He liked his women dumb and illiterate. Fortunately for me, I attended private school until I was ten and my father was branded a traitor. I should’ve felt angered and betrayed by his actions, but the only thing that lingered was guilt and remorse. I should’ve been there for him, I should’ve tried to defend his honor.

“As long as you’re within the Thornov mansion, you should be safe,” Chester continued whilst rolling me into the house.

‘Why?’ I signed to him, wondering if he knew.

Chester stared at me. “I never met my mother, so I don’t know sign language.”

I tensed at the mention of their mother. Chester instantly noticed the reaction, his friendly expression melting.

“Did you—”

“Chester.”

Chester let out a slight growl. I jumped, not expecting such a menacing sound from a friendly boy. I slowly turned my head to see we were in a foyer decorated black, gray, and forest green. Standing underneath a modern chandelier of jagged metal was an old man using a golden cane to support himself.

I don’t miss his aged hands seizing over the enormous wolf on the top of his cane—a symbol of power. He held the golden wolf in his palm as if owning the entire werewolf realm.

“Grandfather,” Chester gritted out, his features growing solemn.

Walter Thornov.

Just the name brought a chill down my spine. His presence was sickening. My stomach churned uncomfortably when his golden eyes flickered to me, seizing me up and down. He revealed a dissatisfied expression as if his grandson brought home an unwanted pet. But when he looked into my eyes, something shifted inside of him. That is, until his attention landed on my neck. I wanted to cover it, to hide my weakness, but I was frozen with fear.

Walter Thornov saw it anyway. I knew he did. Every werewolf in the world knew Walter Thornov, hell that was the name that once terrorized my father’s generation. What terrified the current generation? Well, it was none other than—

“Killian,” Walter humored, glancing beyond us.

My breath was stuck in my throat. My nerves froze as I tightly clutched my hospital gown. I felt a heated presence step up behind me. I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know Killian was standing behind me. Warm, calloused hands slid over my neck, and I was terrified.

Was he going to choke me? Instead, he ran his thumb over the mark, the touch sending fire into my limbs. I was keenly aware of how hot his fingertip felt, how softly the rough Alpha handled me, and how close he stood. Heat rolled off of his body, his scent washing over mine, staking claim and dominance.

“I see you’ve met my wife,” Killian said. His indifference tickled my spine, sending my heart lurching forward.

Wife.

It still hadn’t registered in my head. I had married Killian Thornov. I had thrown myself at this man, wed him in less than five minutes, and whisked into a new life.

“Not much to meet,” Walter responded, his stare beginning to disturb me.

I glanced away, frightened by the man that was once branded as the monster inside the closet. And Killian? Well, he was the one under the bed.

“Selene Yves,” Killian introduced.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I didn’t realize it yesterday, but I was enticed by him. My name rolled off his tongue as if I’d done something inappropriate with him. His tone was silky smooth, but firm as a stone.

“...Thornov,” Killian finished, watching as his grandfather’s face turned dark with anger. “Selene Yves Thornov. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”

I swallowed.

“Like an old-money designer brand,” Chester mused from beside his older brother, showing obvious support.

“Like the daughter of a man who left his wife and children to die at the hands of his best friend,” Walter agreed with a faux smile.

More like my middle finger.

The thought must’ve been written all over my face because when I raised my head, the corner of Killian’s lips twitched. He was staring straight at me. Was it that obvious?

“Beth,” Killian suddenly called out. Immediately, a plump older woman walked out of a room wiping her hands on an apron stained with white powder that I hoped was flour. “Escort Selene to her room—in my wing, not the guest one.”

Beth gave off a friendly and warm appearance with her colorful and pattern top and pants, but the second she saw Walter, she faltered.

“Yes, Alpha,” Beth eventually said, grabbing hold of the wheelchair handles and taking me away. As she did so, I turned my body to watch everything unfold.

Walter opened his mouth and said something I couldn’t catch, but the look on his face told me it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. The next thing I knew, Chester yanked off his tie, and lunged for the old man. Killian immediately grabbed Chester by the shoulders, almost expecting the outburst.

The last thing I saw before turning the corner was Killian’s indifferent expression. Not once did he glance in my direction.

The elevator doors dinged close, shutting the noise from the outside. Soon, it ascended and then, I was taken to an unfamiliar room.

“Now, you stay right here young lady,” Beth told me whilst resting a hand on her hips, her tone like that of a scolding mother. “I’ll go downstairs to finish preparing dinner. Stay out of trouble, alright?”

I blinked before slowly nodding my head, wondering what I was going to do for the remainder of my day here. Beth seemed to think the same whilst tilting her head.

Her tan skin was flawless even under the bright light of the bedroom, but her tiny action made the sun freckles even more obvious. Then, she nodded her head, coming up with a noteworthy idea.

“I’ll fetch the nearest servant to bring you a book or two, I reckon it should keep you company,” Beth decided.

I nodded, grateful that Beth had thought that far. She mentioned cooking dinner, but something about her gave off homely vibes like a grandmother greeting her children with a tray of cookies and scoldings. Soon, Beth was out of the room, busy with her tasks, and I had wheeled myself to the window.

Malore seldom let me near a window. He was always worried I’d catch the eye of someone outside or even worse, study the terrain to run away, despite his tight security.

Soon, the doors to my room opened without a single knock. A woman dressed in a white shirt and black slanks entered with two books in her hand.

Immediately, I was hesitant, given her tugged brows and deep frown. When she saw me, she rolled her eyes.

“Your books,” she snapped, strolling in my direction.

I reached my hands out for it, only for her to drop it harshly onto my lap. I jumped, the sharp edges of the hardcover stabbing right at my leg. I shakingly touched the spot in disbelief, agony erupting all over. In disbelief, I snapped up to glance at her, wondering what her problem was.

Her lips curled at the satisfaction of my pain.

“Enjoy,” she stated in a mocking voice before walking off, all the whilst snickering under her breath, knowing I won’t be able to do anything. She exited the room with the twist of a knob.

At times like this where I could never fight for myself, I was more than frightened. If I were to cry, who would care? If I were to ask for help, who’d listen? I didn’t even have access to the pack’s mind link because of my wolfless status.

Swallowing hard, I wanted to at least give it a try. I loudly shoved the books onto the floor, hoping the thud would capture someone’s attention. If it did, there was no inkling and I wasn’t surprised. I was taken here by an elevator and at least three floors higher from the foyer.

Even so, I wheeled myself to the door, only to realize it was locked. Shakingly, I rattled the handles, but it was useless.

I was trapped inside.