Mated With My Father: 7

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I was lying on the floor. His presence was eating me whole. Now I could understand the power he had over his people. The power he had over me.

"Is this wh*re on the floor the best you can do?" His voice was inhumanely terrifying.

It was the first time he ever spoke to me and those are the words he chose? And just like that- all of my excitement was gone.

It was not what he said- that did it for me. It was the way he said it. There was no trace of mockery in his voice. Nor was there any desire to hurt my feelings or degrade me in any way possible. He was simply stating his real feelings for me. Observations he made in these few short moments we shared.

"What?" I blurted out as if I was awakened from a deep sleep and only becoming aware of my surroundings.

"You are never going to make it."

I was feeling even more confused than I already was. What was he talking about? Fuzzily, I looked in his direction, trying to focus my eyes on the shape of his figure in this all-consuming darkness.

"There are werevolfes coming. One look at you and they will know."

He continued with his voice, that I wanted nothing but to hide from. What he said made no sense but it succeeded in making me feel even more on the edge.

"What people? Know what?"

I questioned, surprising myself with my own strength to talk back to him.

"You must learn to control it. Your body is too loud."

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"Your body temperature, height of your voice, heart rate. And the smell of your arousal, even the weakest werewolf could pick up on it. It's pathetic."

I was left speechless.

"What do you want from me?" I don't know why this sounded like a good question to put out there.

"I want you to give them nothing. Or they will kill you. And I won't intervene. Do you understand?"

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