Special Breeder For The Notorious Lycan

The air thickened with tension as Timothee's voice boomed across the room, his words echoing like sudden thunder. Around us, I noticed a shift—the children's eyes widened, and their bodies tensed, their faces reflecting silent fear. It was a heart-wrenching scene that twisted my insides with sharp empathy.

Instinctively, I reached out, my fingers gently yet firmly pressing against Timothee's arm, silently urging him to moderate his tone.

"Timothee, don't shout at the novices. Ask your questions calmly, keeping your emotions in check," I whispered, my voice a mere murmur in the surrounding silence.

"How can I stay calm when a stranger wounds my foster child's spirit?" he exclaimed, his voice echoing with emotion. His words revealed deep concern and fierce protectiveness. "Seeing someone I deeply care about hurt by thoughtless remarks feels as if I'm the one being struck. How can one stand by and not respond with all they have?"

I closed my eyes in shock. But then, taking a deep breath, I turned towards Timothee. "Timmy, it's not like that. I know you're very upset that Caitlin did this to them, but they were scared by your loud voice."

Timothee took a deep breath and then spat carelessly.

"Explain to me," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity and annoyance, "what Caitlin did do to you guys?"

"Caitlin... she often scolds us when she helps us cook for dinner, Lycan," the girl murmured, her eyes downcast, fingers nervously twisting the ends of her two braided locks.

My gaze shifted in surprise toward Timothee.

"Caitlin was helping you cook?" I questioned, incredulity lacing my tone.

"It's supposed to be a basic skill, Barby. Something all capable beings should manage." Timothee's voice took on a bitter edge. "But Caitlin, she's... she's not exactly patient. Thinks she's above it all. That—"

"Timmy, watch your language around the little ones," I cut in sharply, a warning look in my eyes. "They're sponges at this age, remember?"

He exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing.

"Yes, senorita," he assented, a note of apology in his voice.

A flicker of annoyance crossed my features at Timothee's sudden outburst laced with unwanted expletives. In an effort to dispel the creeping awkwardness, I cleared my throat, an almost imperceptible sound in the simmering tension.

"Can I get a glass of water?" I ventured, voice laced with a tentative hope.

The response was swift, a braid-crowned girl gliding towards me with grace, a glass of clear liquid cradled in her hands.

"Here Luna, drink up," she offered, tone soft as morning dew.

Gratefully, I accepted, a small smile cracking the earlier irritation.

"Thanks, sweetie." The water's cool touch against my lips brought a momentary peace. Curiosity piqued, I inquired, "What's your name, sweetie?"

"I'm Mara, Luna," she murmured, suddenly fascinated by the floor beneath her.

"Nice name," I complimented, warmth seeping into my voice as I gently rubbed Mara's shoulders, an attempt to ease her unease.

Timothee, taking notice of the shift in dynamics, cleared his throat, reclaiming attention. "Barby, I need to call Dave for the groceries. Think you can hold the fort?"

A smile found its way onto my lips, an echo of newfound camaraderie.

"I'm ok with that, they look really cute anyway," I reassured, an underlying curiosity about my new acquaintances simmering within.

"Good, then. I won't be long," he promised, a smile tugging at his lips, awkward yet genuine, as he stepped away to make the call.

Laughter cascaded through the air, pulling my gaze towards the joyful communion of children. Their innocent mirth was a balm to the soul, compelling a smile to dance upon my lips. "Why the laughter?" I inquired, curiosity weaving through my tone.

"Lycan Timothee's shyness is just too adorable," a boy with sunset-hued hair answered, his chuckles spilling like warm sunlight.

Approaching him, I set my water glass upon a nearby table, the gesture bridging the distance between stranger and friend. "And who might you be?" I ventured.

"Brandon," he replied, his smile bright as he shared his name.

"A delightful bunch," I mused aloud, noticing the array of cooking utensils and books that cluttered the space. "What plans brew on such a holiday?"

Mara, with a shyness that graced her words like a delicate veil, shared, "We intend to make dinner, Luna."

The inquiry of a guiding hand wove through my next question. "Is there not someone a bit older among you?"

Prilly, her potential hinted at in the strength of her silence, was mentioned next. "She's honing her skills at the warrior pack's special school," Mara explained, her gaze flickering towards the girl with night-shaded hair. "She's left us in charge of dinner and tidying up."

A spark of an idea glimmered, and I offered it up to them. "How about we divide and conquer? Six of you can take on cooking, another six the cleaning, and the remaining ten can tend to the garden and sweep the yard. What do you think?"

Mara's eyes gleamed with gratitude. "That's a wonderful idea, Luna. We'd be thankful for your help. Being abandoned by our parents in our previous pack, acceptance is a gift we never take lightly."

To this, my heart responded, tenderness wrapping around my words like a warm blanket.

"Dear Mara, never doubt your belonging. Here, you are embraced, accepted—family." And as I smoothed a comforting hand over Mara's hair, I knew in this moment, we were crafting a tapestry of belonging stitched from shared endeavors and kindred spirits.

The room, heavy with emotions, vibrated with the warmth of the children's embraces. Hope flickered in Mara's teary, azure eyes, kindling a soft glow that cut through the gloom.

"Luna, can I give you a hug?" Her timid voice, barely above a whisper, initiated a cascade of tender electricity.

"Of course," I replied, arms outstretched in an inviting arch. No sooner had the words left my lips than Mara, followed by a torrent of eager, little bodies, crashed into me.

Their enthusiasm nearly toppled me, a testament to their yearning for connection, for reassurance. Some of their sobs, muffled against my chest, echoed questions I couldn't immediately answer.

Yet, within that moment of vulnerability, I wove for them a tapestry of belonging, of unspoken promises that in this pack, abandonment held no power.

"Never mind, don't cry. We're all family here, no matter what happens, Lycan Timothee won't let anything separate us," I murmured, each word a beacon in their stormy hearts.

In their eyes, I saw a reflection of their fractured pasts, and in their touch, a longing for a semblance of the maternal comfort they've been deprived of.

Brandon, always the articulate one, broke the silence, his voice a mix of longing and newfound hope.

"I'm so grateful that Caitlin's magic grandmother didn't become Luna. We have Luna and can feel what it's like to live and have a real mother." His words, candid and unfiltered, painted the room with shades of gratitude and belonging.

"Yes, you'll get that feeling from anyone dear. You have to realize that," I encouraged, a tender smile curving my lips.

Before the warmth of companionship could settle further, the abrupt opening of the door sliced through the moment, redirecting our collective gaze.

"Are you guys playing together?"