Bound To My Four Step Brothers

Thalia's POV

My broken phone screen sparkled on the shiny glass floor. It was as broken as my heart. "You're not serious," I said.

My voice was even, empty of the tears I'd just cried. My fight with Ryan was over. Now, so was our relationship. "Your creepy werewolf sons live there."

My stepdad, Robert, didn't even look at the phone. He gritted his jaw instead. His eyes narrowed as he scowled at me across his fancy living room. "Watch your mouth, Thalia," he snapped.

His voice was sharp. He never liked me calling them that. He sounded annoyed. "They're not wolves. They're—troubled. And you will go. Your mother and I talked about it."

I snorted. It was a sharp, snapping sound.

I wasn't concerned with their "decisions." My mother, Dr. Evelyn Vance, famous plant expert, cared more about plants than my broken heart. And Robert, her new husband who is a “different”, had more secrets than a jungle. When the two of them teamed up, there was no arguing with them.

So, here I was, being shipped off, to a monster house, as I believed.

The idea did not scare me. It made me angry. I was not some fragile girl. I was Thalia Vance, and I did not flee from anything. Not even from a compulsory family visit to freaks.

Maybe this disaster was exactly what my numbed heart needed.

---

The black car moved quietly along narrow, brush-covered roads. It took us far from the town.

My suitcase, which I'd packed while I was angry and sad, sat beside me.

Robert sat across from me. He was stiff and too quiet. His usual loud self had disappeared. The air grew thick and heavy. It smelled strange—dirt and wet leaves and something wild and alive. There was a low humming in the air. I felt it more than I heard it. It pulsed through my body like a heartbeat.

The car drew up before a creaky, old, iron gate. It was huge and looked rusty.

It creaked open slowly, like the jaws of a monster. It disclosed a long, winding gravel driveway. Tall, gnarled trees grew everywhere. In the distance stood a huge stone house, shining silver in the moonlight.

Old ivy covered its walls like a comfortable second skin. It looked as though it had been there for centuries, watching everything crumble.

The trees around it were still. There was a strong, scary energy coming from the place. It was giving me goosebumps on my arms.

"Well, here we are," Robert said. His voice was brusque, as though he was glad to be done. He got out first. He called me to follow. "Come inside, Thalia. The boys will be waiting."

Boys.

I was about to burst out laughing but restrained myself. The wild smell grew stronger, filling my lungs. It made me dizzy. It was sweet and threatening. This was not a normal house. It was a monster's den.

Robert pushed open the massive wooden front door. It opened onto a dark, empty hall. My skepticism grew stronger.

They were waiting. All four of them. They weren't boys. Not in the least.

They were fucking men.

They all were taller, broader, and gave off more sheer power than any man I'd ever laid eyes on.

They waited in the shadows of the large hall. Their eyes burned like embers in the darkness. Every one of them looked at me the moment I came in.

"Boys, Robert announced. This is Thalia.

Thalia, my sons. Blaze, Jax, Rhys, and Milo." Robert rattled them off, as if he was eager to be done with it.

Blaze was the first one I saw. It was difficult not to. He was at the forefront, a mass of muscle and dark, dangerous charm. His black hair was messy, but in a controlled way.

His eyes were molten gold. They were on me. They were so intense they sucked the air from the room. He did not smile. He did not move. He just looked at me. Like a predator looks at its prey. He seemed to inspect every inch of me.

Next to him, Jax was thinner. But he was also strong. He had a silent, menacing presence. His black hair hung over his face. It made his face look stern. Although when his golden eyes met mine, they blazed with a surprising, intelligent—Peaceful flame.

Rhys was quieter. Shadowy. His eyes were gold as well, yet they appeared to hold a more timeless grief. He moved slightly, as though protecting himself.

And Milo, the youngest, appeared wild and edgy. His body hummed with anticipation. His eyes were wide and hungry, not as shut off as his brothers' eyes. His jaw trembled slightly.

What else can I expect from strange werewolf people? Clearly, they may not want me here.

I don't care — I don't want to be here either.

Robert coughed. It was a tight, human sound. Thalia, just. go find a room. Occupy yourself." He waved vaguely down a long hallway.

I had not had time to reply before Jax stepped forward. His voice was smooth, unroughened. Cooling. "I can take her to a room, Father." His golden eyes locked with mine. I saw something knowing in their depths.

Robert nodded. He appeared relieved. "Good. Thalia, I'll be in the study. Don't make trouble." He quickly disappeared down a different hall.

I could have followed Jax anywhere, but he led me anyway, my bag slung over my shoulder. The wild smell drew stronger around him.

He took me down a winding hall. We passed closed, silent doors. The silence was strange. There was no sound, really, except our steps. He stopped before a door. It was sturdily built and pale, which surprised me.

"Here you are," he said. He swung it open.

My jaw dropped.

The room was obnoxiously, nauseatingly pink!

Jax turned to me. His slow, knowing smile spread across his face. It uncovered the sharp planes of his jaw. "Welcome, sis." His eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Can I at least get a hug?"

I was cautious. But his smile was disarming. And calling me "sis" was almost. familiar. Perhaps he's not so bad after all, some small part of my heartbroken brain wondered.

I shifted into his arms. He held me close and warm. For a second, it was safe.

But Then—

Then his hand, hard and sure, traveled down my back. It rested too long. Then it slowly, surely, went down and brushed my butt. I gasped.

I pulled away fast. My eyes narrowed. I was daring him.

Jax's smile grew wider. It was pure, innocent—like— He didn't just touch my ass. My own lips curved into a confused smile in response.

It was strange. Was it a mistake?

Then he turned and walked away.

Thalia's POV

I was standing in the pink room. My heart was pounding. I hated my mom for doing this to me. For leaving me in this strange, spooky house.

But Ryan's shadow still darkened every corner of my mind. Maybe this scary, crazy place, and these very disturbing men, were just what I needed. At least they'd be a distraction.

---

Hours later, the sun had dipped below the horizon. The house was darker now. Just the same sick moonlight seeped through my pink lace curtains.

My bedroom felt like a prison cell. Despite its absurd decorations. I was edgy. Too wired and heartbroken to sleep.

So, I went snooping.

My sense of hearing had always been more acute than other people's. I could catch sounds other people didn't. Now, in this oddly silent house, every small creak, every distant rustle, seemed louder.

I went down through the vast, silent halls. Stopped at a heavy, plain wooden door at the end of a long, dark hall.

Faint, rhythmic sounds came from the opposite side—soft, guttural moans. My curiosity pulled me closer. I pressed my ear against the wood, then opened the door slowly, carefully, just enough to peer through.

My breath stopped, my gasp lodging in my throat.

It was Jax.

He was alone, illuminated by the silver moonlight that streamed through a tall window.

He was sitting, stripped

to the waist, his lean muscular body gleaming, muscles tensed.

His eyes were closed, his head was thrown back, and his hand was wrapped around the thick, hard shaft of his dick, stroking it with a wild, rhythmic desperation.

His face was contorted in a grimace of raw enjoyment and profound suffering. His hips twitched weakly with each stroke. And from his throat, wrung from the recesses of his chest, issued the tortured sounds were not moans, but a low, guttural growl, over and over.

My name.

"Thalia…oh, Thalia… please."

“What the fuck!!" I whispered.

The words barely audible, a mix of horror and a sudden, uncontrollable rush of raw heat tearing through me.

I should've turned away. Slammed the door, screamed. But my feet stayed. My chest burned—not just with horror. Something else, something darker, sicker..