Ronan the Werewolf: Part Two (complete)

I finished painting Marshall’s room, which will now belong to the young werewolf who came into Hearthway Hollow. Beau and I agreed to take him in, and we had taken classes in order to foster him for the time being. We’ve decided to redo Marshall’s room for him to stay in, while we put Marshall’s bed in our room.

The young werewolf had been in Dr. Wahl’s care for a few weeks now. He was very malnourished and dehydrated when he first arrived, and he barely spoke at all. After some time has passed he’s started to get better physically, and he’s opened up.

The first time he spoke, I was in the hospital room with him. I had bought him some clothes, some comfortable pajamas, and he looked at me with the most striking green eyes I had ever seen. His hair was black, cut short because of how matted and dirty it had been.

“W-will tha-that big one come b-back?” he asked in the smallest, quietest voice I’d ever heard.

I didn’t want to react too strongly and risk scaring him. He was skittish of loud noises, especially raised voices. “Which big one?”

“Th-th-the one you came with.” He spoke with a stutter, which Dr. Wahl assured us was normal. With time and regular therapy, he would be able to grow out of it. 

I sat down beside the bed, watching his fingers trace along the lines of the quilt he kept with him at all times. “Does he scare you?”

He didn’t answer.

I wasn’t sure exactly what to say. I only know from the classes we’d been taking that I had to reassure him. “It’s okay to be scared, but he’s a good person. He won’t harm you, and if he does, he’ll have to deal with me. Alright?”

He looked timidly to the door. “B-but he’s so big.”

“I can handle that.” I gave him a smile, and he returned it shyly.

We decided to name him Ronan, after my father. We’ve asked him if he has a name, but he either never had one or doesn’t recall it. He takes to the name, and he seems to like being called something. 

He does fine around women, but he seems to have an issue with men. He acts terrified around them, and sometimes even gets angry if one lingers outside his door too long. Dr. Wahl figured that the authority figure of his pack, or even father, was the cause of this. He seems fine around other children, although he’s standoffish, and he seems to enjoy having kids his age or younger around.

Beau and I know it’ll be a long road ahead of us if we continue to care for Ronan, or even adopt him. We would have to have patience with him, especially Beau, who’s been working hard at earning Ronan’s trust. 

On the day we take him home, he sits in the back seat with Marshall. Marshall is in his car seat, playing with his favorite toy dinosaurs. Ronan sits quietly, head down and eyes darting towards the window every time a car passes. I don’t think he’s ever ridden in a car before.

“Here.” Marshall hands one of his toys to Ronan.

Ronan ignores it.

“Peease?” Marshall burbles, waving the toy at Ronan.

I turn around in my seat. “Marshall, be nice. If he doesn’t want to play, don’t keep thrusting the toy at him.”

Ronan looks up at Marshall, who breaks into a huge, chubby-cheeked grin. He offers the dinosaur again, and Ronan takes it. He looks it over, curiously studying it before looking back up at me. 

I nod to him. “It’s okay, it’s a toy. You can play with it.”

He looks at the toy again, and finds he can move the little arms of the t-rex up and down. He pushes a button on the chest, which makes it roar, and his eyes go wide. He pushes the button again and starts to chuckle. He wiggles the arms again before looking up at me with a smile. 

“Marshall has lots of toys he can share with you, but Beau and I bought you some of your own for your room.”

He looks at me in confusion. “W-why?”

“Because we want to take care of you,” Beau says softly. “We want you to feel at home and be able to have your own space.”

Ronan’s smile fades. He looks back at the toy, then hands it back to Marshall, takes his quilt and pulls it back into his lap.

“Is something wrong, Ronan?”

“W-what if th-they come b-back?” He looks at me with those massive green eyes. 

I shake my head. “Who?”

Ronan goes quiet again.

Once we get back to the farm, Ronan looks around. He holds tightly to the quilt, especially when Remi comes around the house. When he sees Remi he ducks behind me, pressing his forehead into my back.

“I’ll put him away.” Beau walks over and gently guides Remi away, taking him towards the field with the other goats. 

“Mean,” Ronan huffs.

“He can be your friend, though,” I say gently. “He’s very nice once you get to know him. But it’s okay. Let’s go inside and I’ll show you to your room.”

I take him upstairs, showing him the room we painted pale yellow for him. We’ve gotten him all-new clothes, a new bed and toys. He walks inside, carefully examining the space before sitting down on the bed. I set Marshall down, and he goes into the closet with a giggle. “I’ll help you keep it clean for a while, but once you know what to do on your own, it’ll be your responsibility. Sound good?” I ask

Ronan looks up at me and nods. 

I sit down beside him on the bed. “Today we’re going to have a nice relaxing day here at the house. We can do whatever you’d like. I plan on making a big lunch later, and then Beau is going to make us dinner tonight.”

“Do we h-hunt?”

I shake my head. “No. We have everything here already. You don’t need to hunt anymore. We’re going to make sure you get three meals a day. Go to school. Stay healthy. Beau and I are going to take care of you.”

Ronan holds onto his blanket with both arms. “W-what if I m-make you m-mad?”

“Ronan,” I say his name gently, “we will still care for you and love you even if you make us mad. Mad is temporary, it won’t last forever. Love lasts forever.”

We take care to get Ronan accustomed to the house. More than that, we try to get him to understand it is okay for him to ask for help from us, especially Beau. He is terrified of the prospect of asking for help, fearing it will cause some terrible reaction from us. We reassure him that we want to help him, and we want him to be able to come to us for anything.

He and Marshall get along well, which is a huge relief for me. Marshall loves to play with Ronan, or at least teach him how to play. He’s shown him hide-and-seek, and taught him how to dance. There are a few mornings where I wake up to find Ronan sleeping in Marshall’s little bed. He’s curled up at the foot with his quilt and Marshall, the eternal cuddler, has moved down to snuggle up beside him. 

I’ve been getting good reports from Dr. Wahl about his therapy sessions. He’s also taking special classes to learn how to read, so when the new school year starts we can enter him.

Slowly, I start to introduce him to some of the other children his age in town. I’ve been taking him to the park where, so far, he just sits beside me and watches. Eve, Adam’s eldest, is a dream come true. Just like her father, she wants to be friends with everyone and take care of them too. Upon seeing Ronan, her natural instincts kick in.

“Would you like to play on the swings? I can push you!” She has the same curly blonde hair as father, a cloud-like mop at the top of her head, big and lopsided. It suits her overall dress and gap-toothed smile.

Ronan looks down, and then up at me. I pat the top of his head. “You can play with Eve if you’d like. I’ll be right here watching you.”

Ronan cautiously gets off the bench, and Eve takes hold of his hand. “You have pretty eyes,” she says cheerfully. “Has anyone told you that?”

Ronan shakes his head rapidly. 

“My daddy says you should compliment someone about something you like about ‘em. It makes you both feel better!” She grins, showing off more missing teeth. “So now you know.” She tugs his hand, leading him to the swings so she can push him.

Marshall is playing with Canvas and his two girls, so I go to the snack bar to get some drinks and a treat for the kids. As I’m walking up to the building, I see a man standing across the street where the road meets the woods, breathing in the air. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I’m not sure why, but I have a bad feeling about this man. I turn back into the park to go get Adam, but when I look back, the man is gone.

“What’d he look like?” Adam asks quietly.

“Pretty tall,” I murmur. “Sort of muscular build, dark hair, scruffy.”

Adam’s eyes dart around. “Like half the men in this town?”

I give him a shove. “I’m serious. I’ve never seen him before and I can’t explain it, but I got a strange feeling seeing him.”

“I’ll give Mrs. Locklear a call,” he says. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye out for strangers.”

Not long after that, I take Ronan and Marshall home. In the car I can see Marshall nodding off, and Ronan is yawning. “Did you have fun with Eve today?” I ask him.

Ronan nods sleepily. “She’s nice.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re getting a friend.” As I’m turning down the road onto the farm, someone steps out of the woods and onto the path. I hit the brakes, and Marshall wakes up crying. Ronan looks up in alarm and scrambles in his seat, making small distressed sounds. He reaches over to try and make Marshall be quiet. 

The man looks at me, and it's the same one I saw at the park. I quickly switch gears to reverse and hit the gas. The man jumps onto the car, and Ronan screams in terror. I hit the brakes again, making the man slam onto the windshield. I surge forward with the car so he slips back, then brake hard so he falls off. I punch reverse again to escape the narrow driveway. I hit the gas and don’t look back as I make our escape.

I go to Mrs. Lockear’s home, where she immediately calls Adam and Billy. Beau arrives at the house soon after. I’ve been trying to calm down Ronan the entire time. He’s kept his quilt around him while tucking himself behind my back on the sofa. A search has begun around the farm, but so far nothing has been found.

“Was it his father?” Beau asks quietly. “Someone from his pack?”

I shake my head. “The way he reacted...” My throat grows thick as I remember his panicked cries. “ He was so scared, Beau,” I whimper. “He was so scared.”

“It’s okay,” Beau murmurs. “We’ll find them and make sure they never hurt him again.” He hugs me tight. “We’re going to keep Ronan safe.”

Later that evening, a howl splits the night open. Ronan is suddenly in bed with me, holding me tight and shaking like a leaf. Beau goes outside with Mrs. Locklear, where they find that man waiting. He grins when he sees Beau and there is a recognition between them. Beau instantly goes stiff all over, and his hands begin to tremble.

Mrs. Locklear steps in front of him, glaring down the man standing at her doorstep. “Who the fuck are you?” she asks snidely.

The man chuckles and licks the corners of his mouth. “Family, apparently.”

Beau takes hold of Mrs. Locklear’s arm. She doesn’t look away from the man before he, but stares him down, keeping her footing firm and stance open. Then she gives an answering chuckle. “You’re family to no one here. Go back from where you came and never come back, unless you really hate having your testicles.” 

“You want a piece of me, granny dangerous?” the man mocks. “Go ahead. But if you keep blocking me from what’s mine, I’ll come up there and snap that chicken neck of yours.”

“Try it. See what happens,”she sneers. “Now tell me in plain English, what the fuck are you here for?”

The man glances at Beau with a wicked grin. “I did come here to get my whelp back, but apparently a family reunion is in order.”

Beau’s fingers dig into Mrs. Locklear’s arm.

“I thought you were dead,” the man laughs. “Or at least hoped for it. I forgot this is where we dumped you, wasn’t it? Oh, come on now, don’t tell me you hold a grudge for that? We’re brothers. It’s what we do.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Mrs. Locklear barks. “You have no family here. No reason to be in my yard, let alone this town. You’d best leave now before the rest of the elders arrive.”

The man crosses his arms and shakes his head. “This town is full of lapdogs and spoiled brats. It’s the whole reason we left him here. He belonged with a bunch of Pomeranian freaks like you. You know this town is a laughingstock, right? Our kind would rather eat their own limbs than turn into sniveling inbreds like you.”

“A lot of big words for a tiny piece of shit,” Mrs. Locklear sneers. “Seriously, son, get out of here. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

“I came here for what’s mine.” He points up to the house. “My pup is in there, and if you just hand him back I’ll be on my merry way.”

So Ronan is Beau’s nephew - and not only that, the two of them shared the same abuser. “You can’t have him.” Beau is breathless from fear. “Why come back now? He’s been here for months!”

“I was teaching him a lesson,” his brother says with a shrug.

“A lesson?” Beau nearly screams. “He’s a child! Your child!”

“And you’ve seen him!” he snarls. “He’s pathetic, even worse than you were.”

Beau steps in front of Mrs. Locklear, and this time she takes hold of him. “Steady, Beau. Think clearly. Just wait, and we’ll be able to take care of him with the others.”

“He’s scared!” Beau keeps his voice quiet, knowing that shouting would scare Ronan even further. “He’s scared of you.”

“Well at least he’s getting one thing right,” he brother laughs.

Mrs. Locklear is struggling to keep Beau restrained. In the bedroom, I’m holding Ronan and rubbing his back. He’s crying and shivering, very nearly vibrating off the bed. 

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here. We’re not letting you go,” I quietly try to reassure him, but I don’t know what’s reaching him.

Marshall starts to howl, and Ronan turns around quickly. He sees Marshall at the foot of the bed, shifting in his pajamas again. I start to question the sanity of my child. His tiny howls mix with the howls coming from the forest. One by one, the others start coming towards the house. First Billy and Delaynie arrive, followed by Charlie and Harun. Adam comes up the driveway, standing directly behind Beau’s brother.

“You’ve trespassed here,” Adam growls. “And I am sure you’ve been warned more than once at this point. It is time for you to leave this place.”

Beau’s brother’s smirk grows as he turns to look back at everyone. “I’ve eaten cats bigger than you,” he chides. “None of you scare me, no matter how much you posture and preen in this shit town.” He stretches out his arms. “I’ve come for what’s mine. You can’t keep me from him.”

“He’s ours now,” Beau says. “He’s my son from now on.”

“Now that’s the joke,” his brother cackles. “One pathetic wimp raising another pathetic wimp. I sent that runt out to learn to defend himself. He doesn’t need to be coddled because he’s going to be strong, one way or another.” He points at the house again. “This precious little life you have for yourself, with your human mate and half-breed child...” He scowls. “I would rather my pup die than grow up in it.”

Mrs. Locklear can no longer hold onto Beau, and he lashes out. He tackles his brother to the ground as both begin to shift. They bite and claw at one another, and I quickly cover Ronan’s ears to hide the sounds of the fight from him. Marshall comes close and clings to Ronan, howling into the night.