His Silent Temptation

Chapter 2 - On My Desk

S e l e n e

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I was the traitor’s daughter.

My father’s fingers were dipped in blood, leaving a stain on my mother’s neck because of her actions were too sinful, and as their only daughter, I paid for it. I was only a child back then, but nothing I did now could’ve prevented their betrayal towards the entire werewolf world. The bruises that once marred my skin were evidence of their continuous hatred towards me—until my father’s friend took me in. You’d think I’d been saved, but in reality, I went from public abuse to silent torments.

Every day, I was reminded of my father’s actions in the form of a man ten years older than me. He was supposed to be my father’s closest friend, the uncle that watched me grow up, but now, he was the one holding me captive.

The council decided he was to be entrusted with the traitor’s child, and he took that role too well.

“Selene,” a soft and seductive voice cooed from behind me. He reached around the couch with his hand. Goosebumps erupted as he held the curve of my shoulders. I swallowed hard. I trembled when I felt his coldness spread throughout my body.

Alpha Malore’s grip was loose, for he knew I’d never dare to run from him. Not when he traumatized me into silence, not when my tongue remained in my mouth, but I could never use it.

That was right. I was a mute, not by birth or choice, but through torment.

“Try on the new shoes, my conniving Cinderella,” Malore mused, but I knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

My throat tightened, his words paralyzing me with fear. I tried my hardest not to shake, but it was impossible. My stomach churned.

“Selene.”

I tensed at the warning from his hot breath. He needed a mint, but his charming face always masked his flaws. I couldn’t even protest when one of the maidservants lowered herself to help me into my crystal shoes. Once done, she hurried off, unable to speak or look at me with Alpha Malore present.

“Such lovely feet you have,” Malore uttered as he sighed in relief, staring at my squished feet in the transparent heels. The glass shimmered under the blinding chandelier, hiding how painful it was for me to even wear it.

“Now stand and do a swirl for me,” Malore commanded, whilst my head shot up in disbelief. I could barely breathe in these shoes, much less stand. From his sadistic smirk, I knew it was on purpose.

When a second passed and I remained, his features grew twisted with displeasure.

“Now,” Malore seethed.

I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t even protest—my mouth physically wouldn’t allow me to. With heavy reluctance, I rose to my feet. I flinched as pain erupted, the tight material cutting into my skin. I took a step and nearly fell over from the agony, my knees wobbling in disbelief.

Malore chuckled to himself, offering me a hand. A hand dripping with more blood than my father, performed more immoral acts than my mother, yet here he was walking scotch free.

It took everything for me to not glare. I knew Malore did this on purpose. He knew my measurements down to the length of my hair. He intentionally custom-ordered a shoe one size too small for her, just to see me in pain.

“My spin?” Malore demanded.

I hated him with every fiber of my soul. Even so, I obeyed him and did a slight swirl. There was nothing I could do against the man that slaughtered my loved ones left and right. When the councilmen that ruled over the fate of almost every Alpha decided that my father was to be murdered, Malore led the squadron that ambushed my pack. In return, he was able to seize my father’s hard work, combine our pack with Malore’s meager one, and through me, he was able to seize control of it. I was only ten when Malore murdered my father and twelve when everything fell apart.

“Beautiful,” Malore complimented, despite the pain on my face. “Crystal slippers for my lady fragile as glass.”

I bit down on my tongue, my nostrils flaring. In the corner of my eyes, I saw the maidservants pitifully glance. They used to be my people—to be exact, from my pack. I remembered they were prideful warriors that once protected my father, the Alpha. Now, my pack was gone, our legacy forgotten, and my family name stained in blood.

“Come here,” Malore called when he saw my attention drifting to everyone, but him.

Malore yanked me forward, forcing me to stumble, but he caught me immediately.

“Careful,” Malore warned, his pleasant mood declining. “A misstep and you might shatter your shoes.”

My face paled. All I could do was make small noises of complaints. I could never use my voice and talk. No—he made sure of that. Nothing was holding my mouth back, except for the trauma he inflicted on me.

“Once shattered, the shards will cut into your skin and who knows? You’ll be immobilized before you know it.”

My head snapped in his direction in disbelief.

“Meaning you'd hurt yourself during my friend's wedding,” Malore commented with a frown. "I'd prefer if you didn't walk too hard."

I wonder which bride in their right state of mind would allow a guest to wear white to their wedding. I glanced down at this obvious plan. Malore had already embarrassed me enough. Our entire society of werewolves was aware of what my surname had done. Now, he wanted me to ruin some poor Alpha’s wedding?

“You understand why, don’t you?” Malore breathed against my neck, embracing my body from behind.

Malore lowered his head and pressed a chaste kiss on my throat. My pulse quickened and he felt it. He smirked against my skin.

I tensed in fear, frightened he’d do something else as his fingers trailed over my bruised wrists. I let out a shaky breath, remembering how tight he would grip me. He slid an arm around my stomach, in the exact spot he wished to swell with his seed and child.

Now that Malore had whipped my brother to near-death just months back, he had nothing to threaten me with. But if we were to conceive… Now, wouldn’t that be my worst nightmare and his wet daydream?

A baby to hang over my head. He knew I loved children. I’d never be able to escape him, not without harming more people than I could afford.

“If you try to run from me, Selene, the force will shatter these shoes. You’ll never be able to walk for the rest of your life,” Malore hoarsely promised.

I stiffened, feeling enough disgust to tremble, but also enough fear to freeze on the spot. I stared down at my squished feet and squeezed my eyes shut in disbelief.

“Of course, that wouldn’t stop me from spreading your lovely legs on my desk.”

I nearly threw up in my mouth. Was it happening tonight? I tried to not faint at the idea. Malore used to be my father's close friend, someone he'd consider family. I had a memory that seemed blissful in the moment, but was now tainted: Malore used to hold me in his lap as a child, watching me laugh and hug him like an uncle. Now, Malore held me, but with plans to ruin me in ways that no family friend should.

Malore had never touched me down there, but tonight, he would. His impatient lingers, his increased possession, I should’ve known better. There would be a full moon and the councilmen informed him it was the best circumstance for me to get pregnant.

Today was my last chance to run.

“So be good, Selene. And remember—do not apply pressure on these shoes.”

Who would I even run to? The groom of this random wedding? To the arms of Malore’s men? No one in the world was on my side and everyone knew better than to touch the precious property of Alpha Malore.

Ever since Malore took over my pack by force, he had tripled his population to becoming the third-largest werewolf pack on the continent.

Elene, are you there…? I spoke to my wolf through our mind-link, but nothing. Haunting silence echoed in my thoughts. Not a surprise, though. Not even my she-wolf would talk to me. She had gone silent ever since I was rendered mute for the rest of my life at the tender age of twelve.

“Do you understand?” Malore deadpanned, grabbing me by the chin and forcing me to look at him. When I deftly stared at him, he rubbed his thumb across a scar on my neck. I tensed, feeling disgust boil in my stomach.

I stared into the eyes that altered the course of my fate. The very beady pupils that committed a crime against humanity—severing my connection to my future mate. Malore had ensured the procedure would be enough to crush me. The pain had been excruciating, as if every bone in my body cracked into dust and my skin burnt to crisp. He succeeded. From that day onwards, I have never been able to speak. Malore made sure of that. There was no one to spill his dirty little secrets. No one to serve as a witness to the heinous crimes he committed, not to mention, against a child.

For as long as I lived, I’d never have a mate. Every werewolf possessed one and they were destined to experience a romance written in the stars and sealed by sacred vows. Every werewolf, but me.

“Selene.”

I froze. His voice became threatening—abusive, even. I raised my head, realizing I was lost in a daze. Immediately, I nodded my head to whatever he had been saying earlier.

“You’re lost in a daydream again,” Malore realized, almost skeptical of my behavior.

I swallowed. Suddenly, Malore carried me in bridal style. My head snapped up in protest as noises of complaint left my mouth, but it was futile. He laughed under his breath, knowing I’d never be able to fight back.

“This way,” Malore declared.

If this man didn’t let me down, I was going to start kicking and scratching. My attempts to escape him were always met with harsh beatings. My bruised ribs and strained expression were evidence of that.

Malore showed his anger physically like storms causing havoc to cities. His rage was loud and explosive enough to silence me into obedience. I didn’t want a repeat of last night. God no.

“Stick to my side, Selene,” Malore warned her, his grip tightening on her.

What the hell was he doing?! This wasn’t even our wedding, but he carried me out to the car like it was our honeymoon and I should’ve been the bride in white. His people quickly bowed and jumped back in fear at his presence.

“Can’t have the groom mistake you as his bride, now, can I?” Malore snickered as the car took off. Soon, we were near the venue located at the heart of the city. Even from around the block of the ceremonial hall, there was a loud commotion.

Malore let out an impressive whistle at the other expensive cars parked near his. Paparazzi lined the block as guards held off eager spectators. Suddenly, the sea of people gasped and whispered amongst themselves when a man in black exited a tinted vehicle.

My eyes went wide in shock. Impossible. Was he the groom?

“Seems like the party started without us,” Malore clicked his tongue in disdain whilst grabbing my wrist and hauling me out of the car. I hissed as the pain spread from my toes up to my leg, nearly paralyzing me.

“Hurry, Selene,” Malore snapped. “We must greet Alpha Killian.”

I couldn’t have been more than nervous about this encounter. In this whole wide world, there was only one man who was my ticket out of hell.

And his name was Alpha Killian.