Werewolves and Innocence Complete Bundle

Chapter One: Growth

Chapter One: GrowthYears slide by with surprising speed.

They get used to life being just the two of them. Or rather, he gets used to the responsibility of raising a human child while she flourishes.

Only sixteen and his precious cub is already breathtakingly beautiful. She has a sort of grace and charm that has teachers doting on her without marking her an outcast among her peers. Her classmates crowd around her like moths to fire, as though hoping that just by being in her presence, they can absorb some of her grace. She's kind without being naive, and intelligent without being obnoxious. The children who used to make fun of her in grade school now trip over over each other trying to get her attention and be considered one of her friends.

It doesn't matter that she's human. She's as agile as the best of them and is quick witted enough that the lack of strength doesn't put her at a disadvantage when it comes to contact sports. Though he has all but banned her participation in them, not liking her coming home smelling like bruises and her teammates.

She had thrown a tantrum to rival all tantrums. She didn't speak to him for weeks.

She doesn't have many close friends as far as he can tell. It's exhausting, she admits, cuddling up against him on the couch in the evening after dinner.

"They put me on this pedestal where I'm supposed to be perfect and I'm not," she tells him quietly. "You're the only one who knows the real me." It's corny, but he finds himself warming to her words regardless, pressing a kiss to her temple. She interlinks their fingers together and he can't find the words to let her know just how much she means to him.

"Love you too, pup," he says, trying not to sound all choked up about it. It's been a while since she's opened up to him. Her teenage years involved a lot of door slamming and her declaring he doesn't know her at all. This is nice. He kisses the back of her hand and enjoys the feeling of her head against his shoulder.

He must have done something right because not only is she popular at school, she's smart too, one of the top students in the country. She's already been accepted into multiple universities and the only reason why she's reluctant is because she isn't keen on leaving. At least, that was the reason he's been told. He's beginning to wonder if it's just an excuse.

The problem begins on an innocuous Friday evening. He is in the middle of preparing her dinner when he scents her coming towards the door, smelling like desire and come. He thought she was playing- experimenting because she's young and naive, but she's sixteen and too young for s*x. He's not even supposed to be home today. There had been an accident at work and everyone was sent home early. Immediately, a million and one thoughts cross his mind. Does she do this all the time and he's been unaware because he spends too much time at work? Has she been having s*x long? Where did he go wrong?

When she reaches the door, he finds other scents on her, the sour-scent of humiliation and frustration and salty scent of tears.

He's already at the door when she gets it open and he yanks her in, slamming the door shut. His hands grip her shoulders firm and angry. "Who is it?" he demands.

Her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of him, and then she looks away immediately. "Nobody," she lies unconvincingly. She smells even more like s*x up close. She grimaces when his vice-like grip on her shoulders tighten. "A guy at school," she crumbles almost immediately. She's good at keeping secrets, but she would admit everything the moment he confronts her.

"A guy at school," he echoes, brow furrowing, trying to sniff out the 'guy' and grimacing at the idea of someone else's come on her skin. Except it's not on her skin. He turns her around and follows the source of the scent. He notices the smear on her inner thigh with a growl and flips up her skirt without really thinking too much about it. She yelps and he smells her arousal in the air, but he staunchly ignores it.

It's not noticeable, just a slightly wet patch on top of her frilly pink underwear. There are finger-shaped bruises on her inner thigh and red scratches on her skin. His fingers linger on her skin and he ignores her hitched breath as he closes his palm over the bruise. "Does it hurt?" he asks, his tone softening somewhat at the sight of her hurt. He has to resist the urge to lean over the bruises and lick her up, clean away the signs that someone else had touched her at all. It's just his wolf wanting to take care of pack, he tells himself staunchly.

"Only a little," she confesses, her voice a pitch higher than normal, her voice trembling. She's shaking a little bit too, her soft frame pinned against the door with his hands on her.

It takes a second for him to register that he's staring at her the smooth, soft skin of her inner thigh and that he's touching her inappropriately. He wants to bite down over the bruise, leave his own mark on her skin. He yanks his hand away as though her skin had burnt him. The skirt drops innocuously back down.

She turns around and peers up at him through her long lashes that are glistening with tears. He sighs and pulls her into her house until they're in the kitchen. He turns off the stove with the pot that's bubbling over and turns around to face her. She's sitting on the kitchen chair, hands folded together and eyes averted. Afraid.

He sighs. It's been a long while since they've had a heart-to-heart. Work had kept him busy and she's still unhappy about him vetoing her decision to join the school sports team. Apparently she's really good for a human.

He kneels down so that he's looking up at her and she doesn't feel quite so intimidated. She's not quite his height yet and he doubt she would ever be. Humans tend to be smaller than werewolves, after all. Her toes don't even reach the floor.

He's reminded of how young she is again and his heart does that uncomfortable flipflop. He considers burning the chair afterwards if she gets the scent of the boy's come on it.

Drawing a deep breath, he tips her head so that their eyes meet.

Her eyes widen, brows furrowed together. "Daddy?" she whispers, soft, almost like she's afraid of being heard.

It's blatant manipulation. She knows how the title weakens him. "Did he force you?" he asks, staring straight into her eyes to make sure she's being honest. He exhales in relief when she shakes her head. "Threaten?"

She shakes her head again.

That's good. He had been worried. There are still tear tracks on her cheeks. He cradles her cheek in his large hand and she leans into his touch without thinking. "Why did you let him?" he asks, curling his lip in distaste. He wonders if she's been doing this a lot and normally washes the scent away before he comes home. He quickly pushes the thought back. He would be able to tell. They do their laundry together.

She shrugs. "Everyone else was doing it," she says but she's avoiding his eyes. "I wanted- I wanted to see how it would feel like. I thought it'd be nicer than this," she admits.

The thought of her being bent over while someone jerks off and comes on her ass makes his blood boil for more reasons than one. He pushes his emotions aside. "Wasn't it pleasant for you?" he frowns at her, trying to read her. He's become very good at it, but she's also very good at hiding now.

He remembers vividly how he hadn't realized that the kids at school had been bullying her until the headmaster called him in and apologized profusely because one of the werewolves had pushed her too hard and she has bruises on her elbows and knees. They hadn't gone beyond name-calling before. She's not a wolf and won't heal, so they wouldn't have been able to hide her injuries. Everyone had been terrified when they saw him. He had already began to have a reputation by then.

He didn't take her out of school, but the boy's parents no longer had jobs to pay for them to stay there, so he calls it even.

"I thought I'd like it," she confesses. "It just made me feel dirty." She shrugs like it's no big deal, but she's crying again, tears dripping down her face.

He finds himself softening completely. He's never been particularly adept at dealing with her tears. "Silly thing," he sighs, wiping her cheeks with his palm. He kind of wants to pull her down so that he can lick away her tears, make things all better and leave his scent on her skin, but that would just frighten her, so he stops himself. "Did you like the boy, at least?" he asks.

She starts nodding and then shakes her head. "He's popular," she says like it means anything.

He can't help but be reminded of just how young and innocent she is. "You could try again with someone else?" he offers feebly and blanches, wishing he could slam his head into the nearest wall for even suggesting such a stupid thing.

Instead of making her feel better, she starts crying harder, falling over the edge of the chair to wrap her arms around his neck. He's solid enough that he doesn't fall over, but it's a near thing and he ends up on his ass with the young girl in his grasp, clutching to him and sobbing.

He pulls her closer, his hold on her relaxing a little. "Are you hurt?" he asks, his tone softening.

She shakes her head. "He didn't really do anything," she admits and he seriously doubts that that the boy 'didn't really do anything'. There are bruises all over her hips. Then again, she's sixteen. The boy is probably too excited and too inexperienced to remember to make things s*x pleasurable for his partner. He probably even forgot that she's human and would have bruises that won't heal as quickly if she was a wolf.

He wants to ask a lot more details, but he has a feeling he's better not knowing. He reminds himself that she's still young. It's normal for her to experiment with her peers. The first time he had s*x, he was fourteen. Sixteen is fine. Except he wants to hunt down the boy who had touched her at all.

She isn't crying anymore, but she's still clutching him tightly and he sighs, wondering if it would make her feel better if he went out and hunted the boy down. Then again, she hadn't really appreciated it when he made the bullies's parents lose their jobs. She has always been emphatic and had worried about them not getting enough food if they didn't have work. They had work, just elsewhere, he lied easily. They were probably already packing their bags to leave for another country by then. It made her school days marginally easier. People knew to leave her alone and some of the more powerful families encouraged their children to be friends with her because of him.

Finally, he huffs and just holds her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. It's wet with her tears and he has to resist the urge to lick them away. "It's supposed to feel good for the both of you," he says, feeling a little awkward for having to explain this to her. He doesn't expect her to clutch to him, holding him tight and hiding her face in his neck.

"I know," she says, his breath like hot flames against his skin. "I thought I'd like it, that's why I let him," she whispers. She presses up to him like she's a child again, arms curling around his neck, every inch of her as close to him as she can get. Except she's not a child. She has curves now, full breasts that she's pushing up against his chest, soft thighs straddling his legs and perfect curves everywhere.

He resists the urge to hold her closer. "You shouldn't rush these things," he says. "Your first time should be with someone you love," he says and releases her despite his wolf screaming for him to claim her for himself. He untangles himself from her and stands, pulling her up with him. "Go get cleaned up," he says, resisting the urge to just tear the offending clothes off.

"'kay, Daddy," she whispers and he can't help the shiver that title elicits. She's stopped calling him that for a while, for which he's grateful for.

It's torture when she starts again.

He makes her accept one of the University offers and quits his job to move closer to her. He's hired immediately.