Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
The truth is we’re harmless to most humans. We have no reason to attack them. We aren’t violent people. Even though we can and do often shift into giant lions, we don’t bother humans.
The greatest benefit of living slightly off the grid is that we can shift more frequently without sending society into a panic. It’s safer for us, too. Some humans get testy when they spot lions, bears, wolves, or any other shifter species. Fear sends them into a panic.
We must coexist with humans. It’s the only way our species can continue. We need human mates to birth our cubs.
“Daddy…”
I jerk my attention back to my girl. I guess I went into my head for a bit.
She’s smiling. “Where did you go?”
I reach for her small hand and lift it to kiss her knuckles. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am.” I push to standing. “I was also thinking that it’s late, and you need sleep. You’re not fully healed yet. I want you to get enough rest so your body can fight against infection.”
She tips her head back as I push her seat away from the table and take the pencil from her. “I feel fine, Daddy.”
“I know you’re getting stronger every hour, but trust me, you need rest.” I unfasten her buckle and lift her into my arms.
I love the way she wraps around me, hugging me tight. Maybe she’s just holding on out of fear I might drop her, but either way, it feels nice. I like it when she’s so close that I can nuzzle her.
After carrying her into the bathroom, I stand her on a stool in front of the sink so she can reach.
She looks down and giggles. “You just happened to have a stool for me?”
“Yes, sassy girl. I told you all of us have supplies ready for our future mates. I’ve also made a list of things we need and given it to Quinn. He and Ronan are going into town tomorrow. They’ll bring back everything on my list.”
“Are they going to bring me pants?”
I chuckle as I fix her toothbrush. “Hmmm… I don’t think I remembered to put pants on the list.”
She swats playfully at my forearm. “Daddy…”
“I’m teasing, Little love. Don’t you worry. You’ll see when they get back.” I fix her toothbrush and hand it to her.
She takes it from me and leans over to brush her teeth.
I know I’m crowding her. I have my chest pressed against her back and my legs parted to straddle the stool. She’s trapped against the sink.
I brush my teeth at the same time and lean around her to rinse.
She squirms against me. “You have no sense of personal space.”
I chuckle as I lift her from the stool and stand her next to the toilet. “Little love, you have no idea. You won’t even remember what personal space is soon.” I point toward the commode. “Pee, Brea.”
She sets her hands on her hips and faces me. “Privacy?”
Shaking my head, I say, “Never.”
She crosses her arms defiantly, looking adorable. She even tries to stand taller, but she’s way too short for her attempt to appear larger and fierce. Fierce is never going to be a word to describe her stature even though I suspect she’ll pull it off in a battle of wits.
I can’t keep from grinning. “You have about five seconds to sit your bottom on that toilet and pee. If you’re not fast enough, you’ll go to bed without emptying your bladder. It’s up to you. It just means you’ll end up wetting your diaper earlier in the night and be stuck with it heavy and warm between your legs.”
She gasps. “I don’t need a diaper, Daddy,” she sasses, leaning forward. “I’m a grown adult. I’m not sleeping in a diaper. Just because I wet myself in my comatose state last night doesn’t mean it will ever happen again. It won’t. Trust me.”
I narrow my gaze. “Five… Four…”
She grumbles as she quickly lowers her panties and sits on the toilet.
I don’t move an inch or look away as she pees. When she’s done, I let her wipe.
“Good girl.” I point toward the sink. “Wash your hands,” I say as if she’s incapable of coming up with that on her own. Her cheeks are red, and she humphs as she stomps over to the sink. It’s comical that she’s so small she needs the stool. It’s incongruent with her fury. I love it.
I block her from leaving the bathroom and reach for the hem of her shirt, whipping it over her head before she can protest. I drop it in the hamper, turn back, squat in front of her, grab the elastic of her panties, and strip her of those, too. “Step out,” I order.
“Daddy…” she whines.
When she doesn’t raise either foot, I simply wrap my arm around her, lift her into the air, and haul her out of the bathroom, leaving her panties on the floor where they’d fallen around her feet.