Chapter 3

【Elsa POV】

For days, anxiety had been my constant companion as I lay awake each night, contemplating the upcoming Manegalning. To cover the shopping expenses for a proper outfit, I'd taken extra shifts at Kafebonor, keeping my head down to avoid trouble. Today, after my shift ended, I stopped for groceries before heading home to prepare dinner for Bjorn's visit.

The weight of the shopping bags dug into my palms as I shouldered open the front door. A cold spring breeze caressed the back of my neck as I stepped inside, and before I could react, the door slammed shut behind me.

Thorvald Molm stood in the entryway of my home, his face twisted into a chilling smirk.

My brain couldn't process what I was seeing. I watched, frozen, as he reached over and locked the door.

"I hear you've been playing princess," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Thinking you'll be sent off to find some fool willing to take you as a mate."

Before I could respond, Thorvald lunged forward, slamming me against the wall. His hand closed around my throat, lifting me until I was barely touching the floor with my toes.

The grocery bags fell from my grip, scattering across the floor.

"What makes you think you deserve to attend the Manegalning, hmm?" he growled, his face inches from mine. "You think you can escape our Pack?"

My heart pounded in my chest. I felt his grip tighten as I struggled, my mouth opening wide, gasping for air to fill my burning lungs.

"You really believe someone would want you?" he continued. "A wolfless freak like you? You'd be rejected immediately."

I couldn't believe this was happening in my own home.

"Defective," Thorvald hissed against my ear, and I felt his tongue trace the shell of my ear.

My entire body trembled as bile rose in my throat, making breathing even more difficult.

"Let go of me," I choked out. "If you leave bruises, my father will be furious. Do you really want to anger your Beta that way?"

This was different from his usual torment. Punches, kicks, scratches—those I had grown accustomed to.

I could feel his erection pressed against my stomach, evidence of how much he was enjoying this moment. My brain screamed as fear washed over me. I had endured countless instances of violence, but sexual violence was a new terror entirely.

Thorvald hesitated, his fingers flexing around the soft skin of my throat.

If he's looking for compliance, I can give him that all day. Whatever keeps me alive until tomorrow. Whatever keeps his dick in his pants instead of inside me.

I lowered my eyes and tilted my head back further, exposing my neck to him in the traditional werewolf gesture of complete submission. I injected a tremor into my voice, as if on the verge of tears, knowing it would work.

"Please," I begged. "Please, I need to make dinner. Bjorn is coming home tonight."

Thorvald leaned in and sniffed just below my left ear, then dragged his tongue—slow and sticky—across the crescent-shaped scar on my neck. His approving growl made every inch of my skin crawl, and it took immense self-control to keep my expression neutral.

Bile violently tried to force its way out, but somehow I managed to avoid vomiting in his face.

Suddenly, pain pierced through me as Thorvald bit down on my shoulder, his jaw unyielding, teeth sinking deep into my skin. I couldn't stop myself from screaming, frantically slapping at his shoulders and twisting in his hold.

"Thorvald! helvete! That hurts!" I cried out.

He finally released me, but not before sucking a damn hickey onto my skin. He grabbed my chin, staring into my eyes, and I realized then that the rules of his game had changed somehow.

"You'll never leave us, Elsa," he said. "You're a defective waste, but you belong here. Nothing at the Manegalning to save you. You'll soon be our little True Omega breeder, even without your wolf."

"True Omega... breeder?" My entire world seemed to stop spinning, my stomach dropping to my feet.

"You'll be our little Pack whore, Elsa. Even without a wolf. You won't be good for much else, but at least we can fill you with pups."

My body felt weightless, as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall into an endless abyss. When his hand slid down my throat, between my breasts, lightly pressing my stomach, then slipping lower to cup and squeeze between my legs, relief was replaced by terror.

Most of my body had gone numb, everything darkening at the edges.

Thorvald gripped my hips firmly, pressing his erection against me as he began to thrust violently. He gnawed at my jaw, leaving a trail of sticky saliva that made my skin crawl with each contact.

Growing more excited, he roughly pulled my leg up around his hip, trapping me. I felt my body no longer belonged to me, as if my soul were floating above, looking down at this nightmare.

I tried to find a safe corner in my mind to escape this moment, but his movements were too rough for complete dissociation. My consciousness seemed to fragment, one part recording every horrible detail while another part had gone completely numb.

"You're lucky you're a pretty little defect, Elsa," he groaned. "Won't be too hard to use you." He thrust harder. "Fuck, Elsa. I'm going to breed you until you learn your place, understand?"

Yes, I understand. Hard not to understand when he's grinding and moaning and groaning like this. I don't think my body even belongs to me anymore. It's just a shell, a vessel, and he thinks it's his right, just like the other Pack members think it's their right to bully the wolfless.

His breathing became heavy in my ear, and I realized too late he was giving me instructions. A punch to my stomach brought me back to this moment I was desperately trying to escape mentally.

Thorvald shoved me down onto my knees. I felt the hard wooden floor collide with my kneecaps, pain immediately spreading. He frantically opened his jeans, movements eager and rough.

He forced my hand around his length—smaller than I'd imagined. Every movement was violent, every touch breaking me further inside.

I felt complete despair until I heard a familiar engine sound, hope flashing like a faint light. Thorvald froze, his head tilted as he listened, but then continued his forced violation.

"Beg me, Elsa," he demanded.

Despite hearing the engine, Thorvald ignored the imminent interruption, forcing himself into my mouth. He moved violently, frantically. The corner of my lips split, and waves of nausea rolled through me, my entire body shaking in rejection.

Within seconds, my mouth filled with bitter, disgusting fluid as he commanded me to swallow, quickly tucking himself back into his jeans.

Just then, the door opened, and Bjorn walked in.

My hope shattered instantly as I saw my brother's eyes sweep dispassionately over everything.

I could see Bjorn's upper lip lift slightly in the faintest sneer, as if I were some disgrace. His nostrils flared, and I knew he smelled what had happened in the air, he had to know what had occurred, but he did nothing.

"Molm," Bjorn nodded briefly to Thorvald.

"Pack heir," Thorvald smiled, lowering his shoulders but dropping his head in submission. "Elsa was just telling me you were coming home for dinner. I was just stopping by to check on her."

He knows. He must know. His nostrils flared. He smelled it in the air. But he does nothing. Nothing. At. All. My brother, my only family, he just... ignores it all.

I rushed to the bathroom, ignoring Thorvald's laughter following behind me. Kneeling before the toilet, my body violently trembling, I threw up forcefully, trying to cleanse the taste and sensation from my mouth.

Each heave was accompanied by tears, but these weren't for the assault itself. Deep inside, I knew these tears were for the brother who saw what happened and did nothing.

When I looked up at the bathroom mirror, seeing my pale face and swollen eyes, I felt a betrayal and loneliness like never before.

My fingers gripped the toilet edge until my knuckles turned white, my thoughts racing: That brother who walked in, saw me kneeling before Thorvald, and did nothing.

My lips still ached, and I tried rinsing with water, but couldn't remove the sickening feeling. The hickeys and bite marks on my neck and shoulder were beginning to discolor, reminding me of what had just happened.

I wiped away my tears and stared at myself in the mirror, my gaze hardening. I understood a cruel truth: no one in this house would protect me.

Deep inside, an unprecedented determination welled up—no matter the cost, I had to leave this house.