The Wolf's Blood Witch B1✅

2. Feeling Randier

Sethan POV cont'd:

The next morning, I woke up choking. My father was sitting on top of my chest and glaring down at me like I'd committed some sort of a crime. 

I shoved him off, coughing like crazy, "You're trying to kill me in my bed now?" 

Unfortunately, I can't say it was the first time. According to him, he needed to channel his inner kid once in a while or he'd grow old. None of it made sense because us werewolves didn't grow old like humans did. We took longer to age and sometimes grew backwards depending on our pack magic.

"Tag," he growled, climbing off like this was perfectly normal. "Now you wake up Maya." 

I opened my mouth to bargain for ten more minutes. 

His eyes narrowed and turned to walk away, "Don't make me burn your bacon." 

I groaned and threw the sheet I had crumped off to the side over my head. I was shutting my eyes when it suddenly dawned on me that my father totally would burn my bacon just in spite. It was also a school day for Maya. With another lame groan, I dragged myself up, dressed and stalked out to do as he said. 

Parenting a teenager was bad enough... Parenting with my father made it torture.

Since I was more adult than my father, I shook her shoulder instead of her entire body. When that didn't seem to work, I pulled the sheets from Maya instead of sitting on her. As I watched her stir, the cup of water on her night stand caught my eye.

"Your grandpa is making breakfast." 

Her eyes cracked open to mine and told me exactly how the day was going to go before she even opened her mouth, "Go away." I refrained from eye rolling and bent down to whisper loudly in her ear. I knew her stomach ruled her as much as mine did me. 

She was my daughter after all. 

"He says he's going to burn the bacon if we don't show." 

Maya groaned, placed her pillow over the side of her face, and I eyed the cup again when she didn't stir. "Isn't this what you wanted? More father daughter time?" I tried and she threw the pillow up at me as she shrieked. Who was I kidding? Mature decisions? Gone. I smacked the pillow away and drizzled the rest of the contents of the cup over her head.

Her arms spluttered at her sides as she put together what was happening and shot up shrieking, 

"What are you—Are you serious?" she barked, utterly outraged but rightfully so. I'd been ignoring her all this time after all. Like her mother, she never forgot a grudge.

Maya reached out and I let her push me back to a safer distance. My daughter's hair was sticking up at odd ends while some strands slung to her face like wet seaweed. 

I bit back a grin, "You say that a lot." I drawled as my stomach growled.

"Get out of my room! Get out!" she screamed as she scanned her room for... ah shit. Maya tossed her alarm clock at me. I dodged, let it hit the wall and hightailed it out of there when I saw her reach for her textbook.

Regrettably, I couldn't blame her mother for her violent tendencies. That apparently stemmed from me, werewolf temper and all. 

Breakfast was awkward. 

Maya glared at me like I'd drowned the cat I'd never agreed to get her, and my father ignored our discomfort as he methodically folded leftover pizza like fine dining. 

Irritated at myself, I snapped an apology her way and explained to her once more that pack matters took precedence. How many years have I been repeating the same thing? Still, how many times did she want me to text her a, how are you doing dear daughter, only to get a half-assed response in return? Was that really fatherhood?