Delia works a job where she is unappreciated and underpaid. Her social life is nonexistent, her career is a joke, and to top it all off, her apartment is haunted.
She's a human in a world owned by Werewolves and it's impossible for her to fit in unless she embraces the lifestyle that werewolves have deemed suitable for fragile humans such as herself. There are a group of werewolves who think of her as precious, as something to be treasured and taken care of, bundled up in swaddles and fed from bottles. Werewolves who want to take her and fill her, use her body in every way imaginable.
She doesn't think it's the life for her, but life has other ideas…
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“Are you hungry, baby?” he asks, reaching back to comb a hand through her hair. “Shh… don't panic. That's just for now, until you get used to your new life. I'm not going to hurt you, baby girl.”
Yeah, right! She hopes she can convey her anger through her glare. She's probably failing miserably because he's still gazing at her with a kind of fond look people give to cats doing amusing things. She works herself up into mild panic as the car continues to move forward and she remains trapped, strapped down by leather belts around her torso to keep her from moving.
Tears begin to trail down her cheeks and she's hiccupping and chewing on the pacifier messily, finding comfort in the sucking motion, hands clenching and relaxing so that she feels like she's doing something.
Maybe she'll get lucky and they'll get stopped by the police. He can't just take her off the streets like that! She has rights too! Less rights than normal people, but still! An ugly voice inside whispers that it wouldn't matter who sees them. They're just going to find a stubborn, misbehaving Baby and her new werewolf Daddy.
“Wait there, baby. Daddy's going to stop the car and get you something to eat, okay?” he says and clicks the turn signal on before stopping the car at the side of the road.
Her heart pounds painfully against her chest when he gets out of the car and then he's opening to door to her right and tugging her, seat and all, towards the edge. For one terrifying second, she thinks he's going to yank her straight out of the car and drop her and she would be helpless to do anything as he drives away, but he stops at the edge and peers down at her with a terrifying amount of fondness. A gust of wind blows cold air into the car and she shivers.
“Don't cry, baby girl,” he says, wiping the tears from her cheeks with a napkin and then discreetly patting the bottom of her chin to clean her spit as he pulls away. “Daddy's going to take care of everything for you now, okay?”
Not okay. Definitely not okay! She has a life, friends— okay well, one friend and a joke of a life, but it's hers all the same and she's not ready to give it all up.
He ignores her whimpered protests and leans down to brush his fingers against her cheek.
She kind of hates herself a little for leaning into it, chasing the warmth that his palm provides. “Sweet little thing,” he coos. “The milk's not very hot now, but it's probably still a little warm?” he reaches past her into a bag beyond her line of sight and retrieves a hot water bottle that he empties into another cup with expert ease. He caps it shut and then reaches a hand towards her.
She flinches away, a whimper slipping out before she can stop it. Her eyes shut and she turns her head into the soft sheet beneath her cheek, trembling uncontrollably.
“Shh… Shh… Don't be frightened, baby. Daddy's just picking you up so you can drink easier,” he says.
There's a long pause before she registers that she's being cradled against a firm chest, the werewolf tall and strong enough to hold her with one arm around her bum and part of her upper thigh. It's harder and harder to breathe and she realizes she's not inhaling properly, gasping against the pacifier without getting enough air into her lungs.