Desirable (mxm)

seven; trauma

"You're being unfair to her," I snap.

He rolls his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. She's fine. Aren't you, dear?"

I kneel down beside Viola and let my hands run over her spine, she yelps out in response.

"She needs the pack doctor."

"She's fine."

Before I know it, I've stood up to my full height and stupidly squared up to my father. He doesn't even blink at my presence in his face, considering I'm at least two inches taller than him–he doesn't show signs of intimidation. Because he is not intimidated by me.

"I swear to God, father. You make her carry on and not let her go to the doctor, I will make you regret it."

His dark brown eyes flick between mine before he stretches his mouth into a horrifying grin. Something that I've only seen a handful of times but I know it's not good news. If anything I should be running in the opposite direction.

"Where is all this anger when we're training together hmm, Nate? It's a loss to be wasted."

My eye twitches at his words and I clench my fists at my sides. "You're pushing her too far. She's your daughter for God's sake. Your only daughter. So stop being an Alpha-hole and let her see the doctor."

His hand flies to my chest quicker than I can think, his strong wielded power sending me flying back into the space beside my sister. I break my fall with my hand and watch as he begins to tower over me, gripping my shirt by the hem.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that," he growls heavily. "I do what I want, Nathaniel. It's my training session, my choices."

I shove off his grip. "Then we're leaving because we're done here."

My feet press into the ground and I dust off my shorts before walking towards my sister, I help her wolf onto its legs but she's shaking violently.

I can't shift. She tells me. The pain it–

It's okay. Let me carry you.

"I didn't say the session was over," he yells at us.

"I don't care."

I scoop her little wolf into my arms and I don't even spare my father a glance as we walk back to the pack house. I head straight to the infirmary where Viola is taken in by the pack doctors, I retrieve her some clothes for when she can shift back.

When I wait, I slump down in one of the plastic chairs inside. My hands covered in dirt, I exhale a slow sigh and press my fingers to my forehead, despising the headache that is now growing there.

The more I think about my father, the angrier I get.

We lost our mum six years ago and he's never been the same since. He won't talk about her, he doesn't share old photos with us, he doesn't even care when it's the anniversary of her death. He can't handle it.

A few years ago I brought her up at a party and he throttled me against the wall when we were away from everyone else, telling me never to mention her ever again.

It's safe to say that he took her death terribly. We all did but he made it a thousand times worse than it needed to be. I miss her, we all miss her. But apparently we can't miss her as much as our father because we're just her children, we didn't know her for long enough.

I understand that they were mates. Soulmates when they met at the age of fourteen. And he lost her, he lost the one person he's meant to spend the rest of his life with. Gone. Now, he pretends that she never existed.