My Mate's Father wants me

Chapter 2

I stopped in front of the bathroom mirror and just stared at myself. The light was soft, but it showed enough, and there was nothing missing from what I saw.

My skin still looked smooth, my waist still curved the way it used to, and my body still held the kind of shape that drew attention whenever I stepped outside. Nothing about me looked lacking, and yet none of it seemed to matter.

My own mate would not even touch me.

My wolf stirred again, restless and unhappy, like she refused to accept what we were seeing. She pressed forward under my skin, sharp and uneasy, reacting to the silence, to the rejection, to the emptiness that had been building for weeks.

I swallowed, my throat dry, and stepped closer to the sink, my fingers curling around the edge as I tried to steady myself. But the moment I shifted slightly, my body reacted before I could stop it.

My leg lifted just a little, my breath turning uneven as heat spread through me again, heavier this time and more demanding. It settled low and deep, and my wolf did not stay quiet.

She pushed with it, harder, making it worse.

The memory of earlier slipped back in slowly, vivid and clear, and it made everything sharper. Maya’s voice, strained and breathless, unable to keep up, and Bruce’s low tone, steady and controlled, cutting through even the wall between us.

My fingers tightened around the sink, my breath shaking as the thought returned, unwanted but persistent.

If it were me…

My wolf leaned into it instantly, agreeing, encouraging, feeding it until the heat inside me flared stronger. It spread faster now, sharper at the edges, making my body react in ways I could not control.

I bit down on my lip, trying to hold back the sound building in my throat, but it only made the tension worse.

When Maya told him to go find someone else, the words had stayed with me longer than they should have. They should not have mattered, but they did.

A quiet, reckless thought formed, and this time I could not push it away.

Why look anywhere else when I was right here?

I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest rising and falling faster as the thought settled deeper.

“What am I even thinking…” I whispered, my voice uneven and soft.

He was not just any man. He was my mate’s father, the Alpha of this house, someone I should not even be thinking about like this.

But the more I tried to force it away, the stronger it became.

My wolf refused to let it go, clinging to it, feeding it, twisting it until it no longer felt like a mistake but like a need that had been building for too long.

Before I realized it, his name slipped past my lips.

“Bruce…”

It came out soft at first, almost uncertain, but when it left me again, it was breathier, heavier.

“Bruce… don’t stop…”

The sound of my own voice made my stomach tighten, but instead of stopping, it pushed me further. My body reacted more strongly, my breathing uneven as my grip on the sink tightened, my fingers pressing into the surface while I lost track of how loud I had become.

My wolf surged again, fully awake now, feeding off everything, making every sensation sharper, more intense, harder to ignore.

I did not even notice the door at first.

There was a faint creak, followed by silence, but I was too lost to register it immediately.

It took a second too long before something felt off.

My eyes snapped open.

And my entire body froze.

He was standing there.

Bruce.

Right at the doorway.

For a moment, I could not breathe, my chest locking as heat rushed straight to my face. I stopped instantly, but it was already too late, the air thick with everything I had just done, everything I had just said.

And he had seen all of it.

My wolf went still for a second, then slowly, she did not retreat.

She watched.

The way his gaze darkened made my stomach twist sharply, because it was not confusion or shock. It was something else, something heavier, something that made my body react again, this time mixed with panic.

My hands moved quickly, pulling my clothing back into place, trying to cover myself, trying to hide what could no longer be hidden. But the damage was already done.

My face burned so badly it felt like my skin was on fire.

“I… I am sorry,” I said quickly, my voice low and unsteady. “Please… don’t think badly of me.”

The silence stretched between us for a second, thick and heavy.

Then he stepped in.

Slowly.

“Look at me,” he said, his tone calm but deeper now.

I hesitated, my body still tense, but I raised my head slightly anyway.

His expression was not harsh. If anything, it was focused, careful in a way that made it harder to understand what he was thinking.

“You and John… things are not right, are they?” he asked quietly.

My breath caught.

He did not mention what he heard, not directly, and I could not tell if that made it easier or worse.

“I…” My voice failed me again, the words sitting heavy in my chest.

My wolf shifted, restless, pushing at me, urging me to speak, to let everything out.

The nights.

The rejection.

The constant ache.

It all rose at once.

“I don’t know what is wrong with me,” I finally said, my voice breaking slightly. “He… he won’t even come near me anymore.”

Saying it out loud made it real.

Made it heavier.

Bruce’s gaze sharpened slightly as he stepped closer, his presence filling the small space without effort. The natural authority in him pressed down, and my wolf reacted instantly, drawn to it even now.

“There is a reason for everything,” he said, calm and steady. “Let me understand what is happening.”

His tone made it easier to speak, safer than it should have felt.

Before I could stop myself, I explained, not everything at once, but enough. The change after the birth, the way my body felt different, the way John reacted.

The way he stopped touching me.

Bruce listened without interrupting, his expression thoughtful.

“That kind of condition is uncommon,” he said after a moment. “A werewolf body usually heals and tightens with time, especially after birth. What you are describing is unusual.”

My stomach tightened at his words.

“So it won’t fix itself?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

“It might,” he said, “but not without help.”

I swallowed slowly, my throat still dry.

“What kind of help?”

He looked at me for a moment longer before answering.

“I need to check properly,” he said. “That is the only way to know what is going on.”

My heart skipped.

For a second, I thought I had misheard him.

“You mean… now?” I asked, my voice unsteady.

He nodded once.

My wolf reacted instantly, not with fear, but with sharp awareness, alert and focused.

This was crossing a line.

And she knew it.

So did I.

But my body did not pull back.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening slightly at my sides, but the memory of John pushing me away, the emptiness, the constant ache pressed down harder.

Seeing that, he spoke again, calmer this time.

“I know this is uncomfortable,” he said. “But I am a doctor first. I need to see what I am dealing with before I can help you.”

My thoughts tangled, everything feeling too close, too real.

But slowly, I stopped resisting.

Before I could fully process it, he stepped forward and lifted me onto the counter, his movements firm and controlled.

My breath caught.

Everything in me went tense at once.

Then still.

And in the next moment, I realized just how exposed I had become.