Juan Pov.

She jumped backward. Genuinely shocked by my direct question.

"No, I mean yes. I mean..." Her stammered response and violent blush suggested the topic touched nerves I hadn't fully anticipated.

The contradictory answer raised immediate questions about experiences she might have had during our separation. This created unexpected jealousy alongside legitimate concern about potential exploitation of her youth by others.

"It's not what you think," she added hastily. Apparently reading my expression despite my supposed blindness. "Let me explain properly."

That made me look at her directly. I momentarily forgot my blind persona as jealousy and protective instincts flared simultaneously.

"What? Have you seen a penis before?" The repeated question came out more forcefully. Genuine emotion broke through my carefully maintained testing facade.

The possibility that someone might have taken advantage of her youth during my absence triggered immediate protective rage. My hands gripped the edges of the bathtub hard enough to whiten my knuckles.

"Who?" I demanded before she could answer the first question. My tone carried unmistakable threat despite my efforts at control.

She nodded hesitantly. Clearly recognizing the danger in my tone despite believing me unable to see her expression.

She spoke in a low voice that combined embarrassment with determination to explain clearly.

"Yes, I came here a year ago. When Alpha Isabella used to clean your body, I helped her. She said that if I want to nurse you and get mated to you soon, then I should help her."

The explanation came in a rush of words. As though hoping the complete context would immediately calm my misunderstanding before it fully formed.

Oh, my baby girl! The relief that washed through me upon understanding the innocent context almost made me laugh out loud.

She cleaned my body while I was in a coma! Then she had seen only my penis.

The possessive jealousy that had flared so unexpectedly moments before disappeared completely. It was replaced by touched appreciation for her dedication and my mother's practical wisdom in preparing her for potential caretaking responsibilities.

"I see," I replied more calmly. I adjusted my expression to neutral curiosity rather than the protective rage I'd momentarily displayed.

"So you've helped with my care before. That's... that's actually very thoughtful of you both."

"So, only penis? Or there's something else you want to tell me?" I kept asking. Partly to maintain my investigative persona and partly from genuine curiosity about whether she might have had other experiences during our years apart.

While the question might seem invasively personal, understanding her perspective and experience level seemed necessary for navigating our complex relationship moving forward.

"Any other... experiences I should know about?" The deliberate vagueness allowed her to interpret and answer according to her comfort level.

She played nervously with her fingers. A childhood habit I remembered from years before. She shook her head emphatically.

The gesture carried conviction that seemed genuine. This suggested my concerns about potential experiences with others were likely unfounded.

Her evident embarrassment about even the clinical exposure during my coma care indicated an innocence that aligned with my memories of her character before our separation.

I repeated my question with deliberate emphasis on my supposed disability. "I want to hear your voice, I'm blind. You know?"

The reminder served both to maintain my ruse and to request verbal confirmation rather than the head shake I was supposedly unable to see.

"Just to be clear about where we stand with each other," I added more gently. I recognized the personal nature of my questioning deserved respectful framing regardless of my motives for asking.

"Yes, only you," she confirmed verbally. Her voice was steady despite her evident embarrassment.

The slight pout of her pink lips suggested mild annoyance at my persistent questioning. As though her virtue should have been assumed rather than investigated.

The expression was simultaneously mature in its justified offense and youthfully endearing in how it looked. Another reminder of her transitional position between teenager and adult.

I opened my arms invitingly. Shifting the mood from interrogation to reconciliation.

"Okay then, come here and do the same. Please," I requested more gently. I offered the opportunity to resume the bathing assistance that had been interrupted by my provocative questioning.

The gesture served as both apology for my invasive questions and acknowledgment of her established boundaries. Returning us to the caregiving dynamic she had comfortably established before my testing had disrupted it.

Once she touched my chest, resuming the interrupted bathing with evident relief at returning to established parameters, I unexpectedly pulled her inside with me.

The impulsive action surprised even me. It was motivated less by testing and more by genuine desire for closer connection after confirming her dedication.

I chuckled at her shocked expression as water splashed over the tub's edge. It soaked her clothing immediately.

"I really wanted to take a bath with you. Maybe next time, I will be able to give you a bath," I suggested playfully. The comment was simultaneously teasing and genuinely affectionate.

The spontaneous action broke the careful testing dynamic I'd maintained. It introduced a more authentic playfulness that felt liberating after so much strategic interaction.

She bit her lips while looking away. Her expression combined embarrassment with something that might have been pleasure at the unexpected closeness despite the awkward circumstances.

Even so, she knew that I couldn't see her. She was cute in her own way.

The contradictory reactions - embarrassment alongside what appeared to be enjoyment of our closeness - suggested complex feelings that matched my own mixed emotions about our evolving relationship.

Her bitten lip and averted gaze hinted at emerging adult awareness of physical attraction. While her blushing cheeks reminded me of her youth and relative innocence. The duality perfectly captured our complicated situation.

I patted her head affectionately. A deliberately childish gesture that helped reestablish appropriate boundaries after the momentarily too-intimate situation in the tub.

"Would you accept me as your mate, even though I'm blind?" I asked her directly. The question came unexpectedly from some deep place of vulnerability rather than calculated testing.

The direct inquiry represented a significant shift. From gathering information to actively considering our future together despite my limitations.

"Could you really build a life with someone who might never see your face? Who would need help with basic tasks forever?"

The underlying fear felt suddenly, painfully real despite my secret knowledge that my sight had returned. That her dedication might eventually wear thin against the constant demands of my disability.

What I saw was a mix of excitement and surprised looks. Her expression transformed completely at my question. Shock giving way to joy so pure it seemed to light her up from within.

She wasn't able to form a word immediately. Her lips trembled with emotion as she processed the significance of what I'd asked.

Her body shivered slightly. Not from the water's cooling temperature but from evident emotional impact.

She kept staring at my face as if it was the first time that she had seen me. Her gaze was so intense I momentarily feared she'd somehow detected my ability to see her clearly.

"Are you serious?" she finally whispered. Hope and disbelief mixed in her voice.

"You really want me as your mate? Not just because there's no one else or because I've been helping with your care?"

I held her cheeks between my hands. I used the gesture both to maintain my blind persona through touch-based connection and to feel the genuine warmth that flushed her skin.

Leaning forward, I started a kiss far more deliberate and meaningful than our previous playful interactions.

The contact ignited unexpected intensity between us. Passion flared like sudden flames despite the cooling bathwater surrounding us.

I took our breaths away as if the flames of fire hit our bodies.

The connection felt fundamentally different from any I'd experienced before. Not just physical attraction but something deeper that resonated on a primal level. As though our wolves recognized each other despite all logical impediments of age, circumstance, and history.

I couldn't stop until she gasped for air. Her need for oxygen finally broke the kiss that seemed to exist outside normal time and space.

"Sorry," I muttered close to her lips. I was genuinely concerned I'd overwhelmed her with the unexpected intensity.

The apology acknowledged both the surprising passion and the fact that I'd started something so significant without proper discussion of our complex situation.

"I didn't mean to be so... intense," I added. I studied her expression for signs of discomfort or regret. "It just happened."

She placed a soft kiss to my lips in return. The gentle gesture carried reassurance and acceptance.

"Would you accept me as your mate?" she asked. Turning my own question back to me with touching vulnerability.

Her direct question revealed that despite her obvious feelings for me, she had her own insecurities about our potential relationship. Perhaps concerns about her youth, her inexperience, or her worthiness compared to more mature female wolves who might interest me.

"Even though I'm young and probably not what you imagined for yourself?"

I pulled her into a bear hug. Wrapping her smaller form completely within my arms.

The embrace communicated physically what words might fail to convey fully. Protection, acceptance, and commitment beyond conditional circumstances.

"Are you kidding? I already accepted you fifteen years ago! I knew that you were born to be my mate," I declared with absolute conviction.

The truth of the statement resonated deeply despite the slight exaggeration of timing. While I hadn't immediately recognized her as my mate when she was born, the connection had certainly formed early and powerfully. It defied conventional explanations even before traditional mating bonds disappeared from our kind.

She sobbed quietly against my chest. The emotional release suggested my words had touched deep insecurities.

"But-" she began before pausing. Clearly struggling with some concern she found difficult to say.

The hesitation suggested something significant troubled her despite our mutual declaration of acceptance. Some obstacle she perceived that I hadn't yet recognized or addressed.

"There's something you should know," she seemed about to say before reconsidering.

I asked her with immediate concern. Sensing her hesitation reflected something important rather than mere shyness.

"But what? You can tell me anything, Sunny." My tone conveyed genuine openness to whatever concern troubled her. I recognized that honest communication would form the necessary foundation of any meaningful relationship between us.

"Whatever it is, we'll face it together," I added when her silence extended. I was trying to create safe space for her to express her worry without judgment.

She pulled back slightly from our embrace. Her expression reflected both vulnerability and determination as she finally voiced her concern.

She made a sweet childlike puppy face that contrasted with the maturity of her actual words.

"But I don't know how to be a woman," she admitted quietly. The simple statement carried multiple layers of meaning about her inexperience. Her concerns about meeting my needs. And her awareness of the significant transition our relationship would require of her.

"I've spent so much time learning to be your caretaker, your friend, your... future. But I don't know how to be a proper mate, a real partner."

I was going to ask her to elaborate on her meaning. But the context made her concerns relatively clear.

She had never been touched! That's good for me and her because I really wanted to be her first and her last.

The innocence behind her worry touched me deeply. It represented both vulnerability and trust that deserved careful handling.

Her concern wasn't merely about physical intimacy but about the broader transition. From childhood friend to adult partner. From innocent attachment to mature relationship with all its complexities.

"We'll learn together," I wanted to reassure her. Though I held back the words momentarily. I was considering how best to address her vulnerability without dismissing it.

I commanded her instead. I deliberately shifted the dynamic to test her reaction to more assertive interaction.

"Can you take off your clothes? I want to touch you."