His Silent Temptation

Chapter 4 - Strip

S e l e n e

—

If Malore was insane, Killian was psychotic.

My mind went blank at his words. I wanted to concentrate on anything, but his deafening words. I tried to tone out the chaotic paparazzi scrambling forward and the gasps filling the crowd, but it was impossible. I could only focus on him.

My stomach dipped. My hands grew clammy. I raised my head up in disbelief, but only froze. A strange thrill ran down my spine when I met his heavy gaze. Dark amber eyes, smooth as whiskey on ice, framed with thick eyebrows. He wore a permanently brooding expression like he was glaring up at the sun. He looked right through me, as if already knowing my darkest secrets.

His lips curled in a menacing matter. My stomach churned as a rush filled my system. He recognized me. He knew who I was at first glance.

Killian knew I was the traitor’s daughter, yet, he was still helping me.

Why?

“What?” Malore finally mustered through clenched teeth, hoping he heard wrong.

“Seems you need a reminder on how to bow,” a loose voice commented from behind Killian.

I jumped at the intrusion, my head snapping to a boy that resembled Killian, but in a softer manner. His hair was curled, faint freckles on his boyish face, but his eyes told me it witnessed worse than soldiers on a battlefield.

“And who the hell are you?” Malore demanded, his head snapping from Killian to the young man.

“Chester Thornov.” And with that said, he socked Malore in the stomach.

Malore instantly buckled, his body concaving over Killian. I was speechless, frozen in shock, barely able to register what just happened.

In true Thornov fashion, they made the Alpha of the third largest pack in the continent bend over in a deep bow. Something that not even Malore had done for my father when the former respected the latter… Thornov men made it happen in five seconds.

“What just happened?” a voice whispered from amongst the paparazzi.

Cameras flashed. People rushed forward to get a better look, a closer glimpse at the secluded world of the werewolf elites.

Killian said nothing and turned with me in his tow. I tried to look over my shoulder, but winced at the blinding cameras. Killian’s grip tightened on my hips, almost in warning to not look. It was when I finally registered the possessive claim he had over me. I was barely walking on the floor, my toes practically dangling an inch above the ground, almost making sure to not apply pressure on my feet.

I tried to not focus on it, but that was even more difficult. His grip was rough and calloused, as hot as a branding. Fear dripped into my bloodstream, mixed with a boiling heat that warmed my skin. All I could feel was his searing fingertips, how tight he held me, and how close he kept me.

“She’s bleeding,” an emotionless voice commented from beside Killian.

My head swerved at who else it could be. I was met with the stoic expression of a man who could freeze water on the spot. He gave off a cool presence of unmatched intelligence.

“Get the medics on standby,” Killian spat out. He paused only to glance down at me. And with the cameras still rapidly blinking behind us, he reached, almost to pick me up.

Without warning, Killian picked me up like a child. I stiffened, expecting a bridal carry, but this was much more intimate. My legs straddled either side of his hard hips, his hand under my behind, and my feet dangling in the air—for everyone to see.

My bloodied feet were on full display. Killian wanted to oust Malore. His intentions were clear from the tiny shards of glass that cut into my soles. One thing I realized about Killian was that he was strong. He held me like I weighed nothing.

“SELENE!” Malore roared, his voice sending the walls quivering in fear, resembling the ferocious wolf he was. He was being held back by Chester and another group of men. My great defenders, I almost wanted to bitterly say.

I was terrified. My mind short-circuited. My breathing quickened. I was forced to meet his dangerous glare. He was going to bury me alive.

Suddenly, I felt Killian’s large hands pressing my face into his shoulders. What was he doing? The next thing I knew, he had buried my features against his firm neck.

“All the dog can do is bark, but never bite,” Killian remarked, his voice low and cunning.

I felt his pulse twitch. Even his skin was hot as lava. It was impossible to hide from the public’s eye. The paparazzi already had a picture of me. In the arms of Malore. In the arms of Killian. By tomorrow, I’d be the talk of the town.

Soon, Killian set me on a couch, where a male doctor was already waiting for me. I tense when the physician wordlessly bent to observe my damages. When he touched my ankles, I shrieked in fear and jumped back.

A low, threatening growl filled the room. Within seconds, Killian had the man by his collar.

“Alpha—”

“Careful,” Killian snarled in a menacing tone that sent everyone flinching back.

“S-she’d need to be stitched and bandaged,” the doctor relented as fat beads dripped down his forehead. “I can’t do it without touching her, Alpha—”

“Leave the bandage and equipment on the table, I’ll do it,” Killian spat out, shoving the feeble man aside. Within seconds, the physician stumbled and straightened up, quick to unpack his belongings and flee out the room as if it was on fire.

“Theo, get out,” Killian demanded, glowering the man down.

“Yes, Alpha,” Theo muttered with lowered eyes. He didn’t even cast me a second glance, but his hands were flying across the tablet.

I assumed Theo was Killian’s secretary. When the man left, a haunting silence followed after him.

It was just me and Killian in the make-shift waiting room. I glanced at our surroundings, my hand gliding across the velvet surface. Not even the crystal chandelier resting above my head fazed me. For every bruise Malore left on my skin, he apologized with expensive gifts.

“This is going to hurt.” Killian’s voice didn’t soften for the slightest bit. He was cruel and composed as the rumors promised.

‘Okay,’ I signed with my hand, but I wasn’t sure if he understood.

Instead of snickering under his breath like Malore’s servants would or staring at me with confusion, Killian’s gaze penetrated me. I was once again mesmerized by the deep pool of chocolate pupils, one that had bewitched me long ago. But did he even remember what transpired between us before the betrayal?

Most likely not.

“Bite onto this.” Killian held out a handkerchief for me to take.

I blanched. No one carried this kind of thing around anymore, much less a murderous Alpha like him. I stared at the smooth silk and reluctantly took the white cloth with shaking fingertips.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist. I whimpered in fear, unable to help myself. He held my gaze, not uttering a single word. Then, he ran his thumb over the pulse of my wrist, noticing a poorly concealed bruise. I swallowed, for his caress was soft as cotton, but his intentions rough as rocks.

“He did this to you?” Killian muttered.

I shakingly glanced away.

Killian growled deep within his chest. I flinched, frightened by the frigid noise. He narrowed his eyes. His rage was feral. Barely concealed. Barely contained. He was this close to snapping.

My heart skipped. His brow slowly went up, most likely feeling it within my pulse.

“Well?”

I reluctantly nodded. Wasn’t that obvious?

“You’ll show me the rest of the damages later,” Killian ordered.

Damages. I was damaged goods. The title of a traitor’s daughter continues to hang over my head for a crime that none could reverse.

Not a moment later, Killian took a seat on the coffee table in front of me. I swallowed hard in anticipation. He gestured to his thigh, almost waiting for my permission.

I never thought I’d live to see the day I put my feet on the lap of the most frightening Alpha the world had ever witnessed.

“This is going to hurt,” Killian coldly informed, picking up the tweezer from the tray of equipment left by the doctor.

I held my breath, my heart drumming in my chest. Killian caressed my ankle, slow and fluid. My stomach churned. My skin burned. His touch was enthralling.

Without warning, Killian pulled out a large shard of the broken shoe. I cried out, clutching tightly onto the handkerchief, just as he removed another blood-covered glass piece. I saw white dots in my vision from how painful the procedure was. Fire licked me from inside out, searing through my veins, the agony nearly blinding. I dug my nails into my palms until they drew blood.

“It’ll be over soon,” Killian murmured, his voice softening momentarily.

Killian never once flinched. He wasn’t fazed by the droplets of blood or the tiny shards he had to take out. Within ten minutes, he had my feet sanitized, bandaged, and good to go.

By the time Killian was done, not a single strand of hair was out of place. He was perfect as always.

‘Thank you,’ I signed with my hand, but he didn’t bother responding.

Killian rose to his full height. My feet fell limply in front of me. He reached for me, but I clamored back in fear, visibly tensing. He paused. His gaze darkened. The air thickened. His glare was murderous.

I was frightened beyond words, nearly fainting on the spot.

“I only wanted the handkerchief,” Killian remarked in a dangerous voice whilst patiently taking the material from my hand. He wiped my blood all over the white, staining it red.

‘I’m sorry,’ I quickly signed to him.

Killian simply narrowed his eyes. With just his glare, he raked me up and down, from head to toe as if searching for something.

Then, Killian spat out words that made my heart drop to my stomach.

“Strip.”