Precious (Werewolf Taboo 1)

Prologue

It's hard, watching her grow and knowing that she's meant for him without actually doing anything about it. She's a sweet little thing. He can tell, even as she toddles after him, chubby arms and all, that she's going to grow up to be a real heart-breaker.

"Daddy," she calls out even though he's not her father. He bends down and lets her stumble into his open arms, giggling happily. "Daddy, daddy," she babbles, followed by a stream of word that means nothing except to her.

He supposes he could be her father now. He's all of eighteen and is responsible for a child- a human child at that. Human children are notoriously difficult to keep alive. He picks her up easily and fits her in his arms. She's light enough that he can still carry her without feeling her weight at all. Four-years-old and she already has him eating out of the palm of her hand. "Will, baby," he corrects her. "I'm Will, not Daddy."

He lets her cuddle up to him like a little cub because his parents used to let her nuzzle up to them like this and it's how she finds affection. She clings to him with all her strength, not quite understanding why he's the only one she has left. Their parents died in a freak accident and he was faced with a difficult decision. He could either let her go to an orphanage, or raise her on his own pup. He chose the later.

He loves her. He's not going to let some strangers raise her. And she's human. She's going to have a tough time growing up with people who're mostly Shifters who don't know better. She's old enough to go to a kindergarten now and as much as he would want to home-school her, the conditions of his adoption dictate that he needs to be able to provide her with a healthy, happy childhood. If he doesn't, they won't hesitate taking her away. As if anyone in the orphanage could do better.

If anyone hurts her, he's going to tear them with his fangs and make sure they never touch anything ever again.

"Daddy?" she whines.

When he comes back to his mind, she's all curled up in his arms. He's holding her too tight and it must have hurt a little bit, but she clutches him still and seems to understand he's in a maudlin mood.

"I love you, Daddy." She presses a wet kiss on his cheek with a loud, "Mwah!"

> He resists the urge to return one for all of two seconds before caving, pressing a kiss on both her chubby cheeks. "I love you too, pumpkin," he says, letting her go. She bolts towards the kindergarten entrance, ecstatic to be able to play with people her own age.

He sighs, feeling a little pang of hurt in his heart to watch her go. He has a feeling he's going to have to get used to that feeling.

Chapter One: Growth

Years 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 sex. 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 sex 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 sex 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 staunchyly 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