Dinner wound down with plates scraped clean and laughter still buzzing in the air. Betty insisted on piling seconds on Gabriel\u2019s plate until he finally surrendered, groaning that he couldn\u2019t take another bite. The younger siblings scattered after dessert \u2014 Miranda grabbing a book, Chris chasing Andrew down the hall \u2014 leaving just us, Mark, and his parents at the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Philip leaned back, studying us with that calm, steady presence. His voice wasn\u2019t probing or suspicious \u2014 just thoughtful. \u201cYou boys carry yourselves differently. I noticed it the moment you walked in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My gut tightened, the memory of claws and blood still raw under my skin. Gabriel shifted, suddenly more interested in his fork than conversation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But Philip\u2019s tone was kind. \u201cMark\u2019s always been\u2026 different too. We never quite knew why. He has a good heart, but there\u2019s something deeper in him, something we don\u2019t pretend to understand.\u201d He glanced at Betty, who nodded softly. \u201cWe\u2019ve never tried to fix it. We\u2019ve only tried to love him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Betty reached across the table then, her hand warm on mine. \u201cAnd now we see the same thing in you both. Different doesn\u2019t scare us. It only means God made you special in ways the world might not understand yet.\u201d Her eyes shone, steady and sincere. \u201cThank you for looking out for our son.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t know what to say. My throat felt tight. I\u2019d been called a monster more times than I could count, been shoved, locked away, screamed at. But here, in this tidy parsonage, with the smell of pie still in the air and gentle hands on mine, I was being thanked. Loved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gabriel cleared his throat, his usual cocky grin failing him. \u201cHonestly, ma\u2019am, it\u2019s nothing. Mark\u2019s\u2026 he\u2019s easy to look after.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Philip smiled at that, his gaze flicking between the three of us. \u201cWell, keep doing it. And know this \u2014 you\u2019ll always have a place at our table. You\u2019re welcome here, any time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something settled inside me then, something I hadn\u2019t realized was clawing so hard at my ribs. Belonging. Not to a blood pack, not to some survival instinct \u2014 but to simple, human warmth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When we finally stood to leave, Betty hugged me tight, whispering, \u201cYou\u2019re safe here.\u201d Gabriel got the same, and for once, he didn\u2019t crack a joke about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Outside, the air was cool, the church steeple casting a long shadow across the lawn. Mark walked us to the Humvee, his expression soft but searching. He didn\u2019t ask about the claws, or the growl, or the way I nearly tore a bully apart. He just said, \u201cThey really like you guys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked back at the glowing windows of the parsonage and swallowed hard. \u201cYeah. I\u2026 like them too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the first time, I realized it wasn\u2019t just Mark we\u2019d found. It was a whole family \u2014 and that might\u2019ve been the rarest treasure of all.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Dinner wound down with plates scraped clean and laughter still buzzing in the air. Betty insisted on piling seconds on Gabriel\u2019s plate until he finally surrendered, groaning that he couldn\u2019t take another bite. The younger siblings scattered after dessert \u2014 Miranda grabbing a book, Chris chasing Andrew down the hall \u2014 leaving just us, Mark, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-109","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-high-school-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/109","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=109"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/109\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":110,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/109\/revisions\/110"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=109"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=109"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=109"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}