Adopted By Werewolves : A Mythiverse Story

1

Lone Wolf

Under the sometimes slow and shambling scrutiny of old Mrs. Lundstrom, Beacon of Hope Orphanarium had a long history of caring for and schooling the most unique of parentless children.

The boys and girls of the orphanarium are raised and cared for under Mrs. Lundstrom’s watchful eye. Unlike most orphanages, where a younger child might receive more attention than an older one, at Beacon of Hope, the children are far more interesting when they are between the ages of eleven and thirteen.

Plus, these orphans are simply not safe to be adopted at a younger age, like other children might be. Beacon of Hope Orphanarium’s boys and girls are unlike other children. They’re far more unique. They just didn’t know it yet.

Fenn, a bright-eyed boy of twelve with brown hair, brown skin, and piercing blue eyes, kicked the giant statue of a white wolf positioned at the entrance of the orphanarium. The wolf, whom the children fondly called Alan, was the school’s mascot. Both the statue and school were in the center of two hundred acres of lush green woods.

“More like Beacon of Nope Orphanage,” Fenn said, feeling defeated. Rejection wasn’t fun on a good day, and it’s especially tough when a kid doesn’t have parents or family to help make them feel better.

“What did Alan ever do to you?” Jordan asked. He pet the statue of the giant wolf on its head. “That’s a good boy, Alan.” Jordan picked up a stick and threw it. “Fetch Alan, fetch.”

The statue, being only a statue of a wolf, did not fetch.

Fenn raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Another set of potential future folks decided they didn’t want this lone wolf.” Fenn had been disappointed a lot this year. He’d spent most of his life without any visitors. This year, he had lots of them. But not one family wanted to take Fenn home and call him son.

“Awe, man, I’m sorry,” Jordan said.

“Whatever. I don’t need them anyway. If they don’t want me, I don’t want them,” Fenn said.

“I feel that. My last set of could-be caregivers took me out for the whole weekend. I thought I’d really found a forever home. Then Sunday afternoon came, and they brought me back,” Jordan swatted at a bug in the air. “Mrs. Lundstrom said it wasn’t me. It was them. They were just too old to take on such a spirited young man.”

“Whatever that means,” Fenn said, empathizing with Jordan. He knew what it was like to be rejected. “I just feel like something is missing. You know? Like maybe I’m not supposed to be adopted because if I was, it would have happened already.”

“Beacon of Nope and Groan is more like it,” Jordan said.

Fenn smiled. “Beacon of Soap, but there’s still no hope.”

“Begone Hope and bring on the nope,” Jordan said.

“Oh, that was a good one,” Fenn chuckled.

“The right family will come along, and they’ll see everything that the rest of us do,” Jordan said. “At least that’s what I keep telling myself.”

“Thanks. You didn’t deserve that either, Jordan.” Fenn smiled and played with the dark purple stone tied on some twine around his neck. The only thing his birth parents left him when they dropped him off at a fire station all those years ago.

“Wanna go inside and grab some lunch? I’m starving. Mrs. Lundstrom said today’s meal was spaghetti and garlic bread. Can’t say there will be meatballs, but we can cross our fingers,” Jordan offered.

“Sure,” Fenn said. “I could eat ten helpings!”

“No wonder we can’t have meatballs,” Jordan teased.

“I’ll race you,” Fenn said, taking off up the stairs to the lumbering four-story red brick building. “Last one there is a rotten egg.”

“No fair!” Jordan yelled several steps behind Fenn.

The boys raced down the dimly lit hallways, bumping into one another along the way.

“No running,” Professor Blake said.

Fenn and Jordan slowed down only long enough to escape the professor’s sight. Then they sped up, Fenn took the lead.

When the boys reached the dining hall, they loaded their plates with spaghetti sans meatballs.

“What a bummer, man. I was really hoping we’d get some meat today. I’m blaming you and your ten massive servings,” Jordan teased.

“Growing boys got to grow,” Fenn said with a toothy grin.

“At least the garlic bread is plentiful today.” Jordan dipped a slice into his spaghetti sauce and took a bite. “Mmm, tastes like the Bleak and Bore got one thing right.”

“Bleak on Hopeless Street is bound to have a win once in a while,” Fenn says. “Even if it’s just the garlic bread.”

“To garlic bread and friends,” Jordan held up his slice of garlic toast.

Fenn grabbed one too and knocked it against Jordan’s, “To garlic bread and friends.”

2

Wolves and Water People

Clouds of purple smoke billowed around Fenn, guiding him forward. A battle raged on the edge of a cliffside between water and land.

From the distance, he watched a hundred snarling wolves swish their tails while they slowly closed around double that number of fairy folk. They had fairy wings and Fenn knew in his gut they were water fairies.

Fenn moved closer, watching the wolves closely. The Alpha’s bright white fur stood out in a sea of browns, blacks, and greys. The other wolves only move when the Alpha moves. They followed his lead, never turning their backs on the fairies.

The water beings were almost human but also somehow made of light. They moved with an elegant glow. The sea rose behind them.

“Leave the child, and your lives will be spared,” the fairy king demanded.

The wolves growled and clawed at the earth, their rejection of his offer clear.

“So be it,” the fairy king raised a sword made of crystal. “Let the fates decide.”

Just as the fairy king led the charge on the wolves, one of the grey wolves shifted into the form of a man. Purple smoke swelled around the man. He floated forward. Kneeled to the fairy king.

“Your Majesty,” he said. “My family protect their own. We want no war with you.”

“Then hand over the child,” the fairy king said. “And you can go.”

The man shook his head, “It’s not that simple. That child is loved by every member of my pack,” he said. “He’s gone. For his own safety, he was sent away.”

The king’s eyes grew large, his breathing labored. “You did what?”

“For his own safety, I sent him away. It was the only way to protect him. You can’t have my son,” he said with a fury that could be felt for miles.

“He is of the royal line. The fairy laws proclaim that all heirs to the throne must be raised as such,” the fairy king said. “When you paired with the princess, you gave up your rights to raise this child before he was even born.”

The man shifted back into a wolf, lunging at the king. For three of the longest seconds, Fenn watched the wolf midair, snarling. He chomped his teeth into the flesh of the fairy king.

“No!” Fenn yelled with overwhelming pain.

Fenn screamed, still half asleep. Jordan jumped down from the top bunk to Fenn’s bed on the bottom bunk. Jordan shook him. “Wake up, Fenn. It’s just a bad dream.”

Lucky for Fenn, sometimes sharing a coat closet-sized room had its benefits, like having someone to wake you up from a nightmare.

Rousing from a vivid dream was disorienting. Fenn’s heart was pounding, and he sweated through his pajamas.

“Are you okay, Fenn?” Jordan asked.

Fenn nodded, pulling his covers off and sitting up. “It was just another bad dream.”

“The one with the wolves again?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah. It’s almost every night these days.” Fenn rubbed his eyes and reached for a glass of water he had tucked just under his bed. “I’m sorry for waking you. Again.”

“It’s okay, man. No worries. I’m sorry you’re having crazy nightmares about wolves and fairy water people. Again.”

“Me too.”

3

A Mysterious Arrival

Three days later, it was Mrs. Lundstrom who knocked on Fenn’s bedroom door. “Fenn? Do you have a few minutes? We need to talk,” she said.

Fenn sat up and set his comic book down. There weren’t a lot of opportunities to hide away and read. “What’s up, Mrs. Lundstrom?”

“You’ve been here such a long time now, Fenn,” Mrs. Lundstrom said.

“As far back as I can remember,” Fenn agreed.

“You’re such an extraordinary boy. I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will always have a special place in my heart for you,” Mrs. Lundstrom said. Her smile held a sadness.

“Is everything okay?” Fenn asked, suddenly nervous.

“Better than fine.” Mrs. Lundstrom handed Fenn a letter.

“What’s this?” Fenn asked.

“There’s a family that wants to adopt you,” she said. “They wrote you a letter in the hopes it would ease the transition.”

Fenn’s heart raced, butterflies hatched in his stomach, and for the first time in his life, Fenn had no words in reply. Someone wanted to adopt him, Fenrir Alan.

“Are you okay, Fenn?” Mrs. Lundstrom asked.

Fenn nodded. “I’m just surprised. Who are they? Where are they? When did they decide on me?” Once he started asking the questions, they didn’t stop coming.

“The Channing’s are from the small town of Crescent Hollow, in the northeast part of the country. They’ve been looking for the right person to bring into their family,” Mrs. Lundstrom said.

“Why me? I never met them,” Fenn said.

“Sometimes it can be difficult for folks who live far away to travel all across the country. We have ways of sharing profiles,” Mrs. Lundstrom tried her best to reassure Fenn. “I promise you that I’ve spent a lot of time on the phone with the Channing’s. You’re going to fit right in.”

“What if I don’t like them?” Fenn asked feeling shame. He waited his whole life for a family, and now that he has one interested, why would he push them away without even meeting them?

“If you don’t like them, Fenn, then you call me, and we’ll tackle that road if and when we cross it,” Mrs. Lundstrom sighed. “They’re sending a car for you tomorrow. Say your goodbyes and pack your things. They’ll be here after breakfast to pick you up.”

When Mrs. Lundstrom left, the weight of the letter grew threefold in Fenn’s hands. What could the Channings have seen in him?

Fenn carefully looked over the envelope. His name, Fenrir, was on one side, in large scrawling letters. He flipped the envelope and saw that the letter was sealed with wax and a large letter C.

Fenn opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. He took a deep breath and read.

Dearest Fenrir,

Howlings greetings! We hope this letter finds you ready for the most thrilling adventure of your life. Because guess what? You’re about to join a family that’s a bit different in the best possible way.

First, we want you to know how special and extraordinary you are, Fenrir. Life is like a moonlit forest, full of mysteries waiting to be uncovered. We can’t wait to explore it with you. Our family has a unique bond. It’s a connection that goes beyond the ordinary.

You see, in our home, under the silver glow of the moon, we cherish the wild beauty of the night. We thrive on the magic of transformation and the howls that echo through the woods. It’s not your typical family, but who wants typical when you can have extraordinary?

We believe in the power of embracing your true self, even if that means having a “hairy” moment or two. We’re all about those midnight adventures, secret paths, and the untamed spirits that run through our veins. There’s a wild side to life, and we’re ready to share it with someone as brave and wonderful as you are.

In our pack, we value loyalty, understanding, and the joy of running free. It might take some time to adjust, but we’re here to support you every step of the way. You might notice unique traditions, like howling at the full moon or enjoying the crisp night air.

As we embark on this journey together, let’s make a pact to explore the extraordinary, embrace the unknown, and revel in the beauty of being different. You’re not just joining a family. You’re becoming part of our pack. We’re howling excited about it!

Here’s to moonlit adventures and the enchanting mysteries that await us. We can’t wait to meet you, Fenrir.

Always,

Norman and Janet Channing

Fenn set the letter down on his bed, still in shock and disbelief. He stood and paced the room. He sat back down and reread the letter two more times.

Fenn wondered what the Channings meant when they said pack. The letter was friendly, if not a little odd. Fenn guessed they cared enough to write it, so they were probably not horrible people.

There was only one thing Fenn was sure of. He was sure his whole life was about to change.

4

Population 8,903

Fenn didn’t sleep much that night. Instead, he packed up his meager possessions into a single duffle bag. This included a week’s worth of clothing, a hat Fenn got from Camp Wiki Waka when he was ten, a yellow rain jacket, and a small stack of books and comics he’d acquired over the years. Fenn felt for the stone around his neck. The necklace was the only thing he had from his birth parents.

It was odd looking at everything he owned in the world sitting neatly in one bag. Maybe with a family of his own, he’d get things like toys and a bike.

That could be fun.

Saying goodbye to his friends was hard. Fenn always hoped this day would come, but he never quite imagined it. Saying goodbye to Jordan was the hardest.

“See, I told you it would happen,” Jordan said. He kicked at the ground and tried to smile.

“Promise me you won’t give up hope,” Fenn said. “The right family will come along.”

Jordan shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, okay.”

He wasn’t very convincing. “When I get there, I’m going to call you. We’ll keep in touch, okay. I’ll tell you all about the new people. I’m sure there’s some family out there looking to adopt. I’ll put in a good word for you. It will all work out. You’ll see,” Fenn said hopefully.

Jordan smiled and perked up a little. “Okay, you do that. Maybe we can live in the same town again one day.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Fenn said.

“I’m going to miss you too,” Jordan said.

The boys hugged goodbye, and when the car pulled up to take Fenn away, Mrs. Lundstrom walked him out.

“You’re going to do fine things, Fenrir Alan. Chin up. Just remember who you are, and you’ll be fine,” Mrs. Lundstrom said.

“Thank you for everything, Mrs. Lundstrom,” Fenn said. “I’m going to miss you a lot.”

Mrs. Lundstrom wiped a tear away. “Now get on with you, boy. Be good to your new family,” she said with a smile.

Fenn gave one last pat to the statue of the wolf and his namesake, Alan, before getting into the black town car. The driver took his bag and placed it into the trunk.

“Are you ready to go, Sir Fenrir?” asked the driver.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Fenn said.

As the car pulled away down the long graveled driveway, Fenn watched the school grow smaller and smaller until it was gone.

The drive to Crescent Hollow was long and winding. Hours passed, and Fenn fell in and out of sleep, wondering about his new family. Would they really like him? Did they really howl at the moon and run around in the darkness? They sounded just like his kind of people.

Fenn was roused from sleep by the driver. “Sir Fenn?” he asked.

Fenn rubbed his eyes and sat up. He looked out the window as they passed a sign that read, Welcome to Crescent Hollow, Population 8,902. Eight thousand Nine hundred and three now, Fenn thought to himself.

“We’re almost there, young Sir,” said the driver.

As the car slowed and the small town of Crescent Hallow passed by, Fenn watched in awe. He’d never lived anywhere but the Orphanarium before. But now, he would get to walk the streets of this quaint town. Maybe he would ride a bike into town and go to the store for his new parents. Even better than that, perhaps he’d get to walk to a real school. Cut through the lush forest with friends.

Fenn’s head swarmed with all the new and beautiful possibilities that moving to Crescent Hollow presented.