Brothers - 1. Chapter 1

JASON

Jason stood in the doorway of the house, his new home. After ten years in an orphanage, he had a family again. A family he barely knew, but he was still grateful to be out of the orphanage, away from all the elves and humans that bullied him over his marble grey tail.
"Welcome home," Margaret smiled, entering behind him. "Richard should be home tomorrow. He took a shipment to Sarelin."
The neko nodded silently, looking around the living room. A large couch sectioned off the room from a good-sized kitchen, the area feeling open to Jason. Green walls held a picture of two red wolves and an older man, sharing space with a TV on the wall across from an open window. Jason recognised the man as Richard, and one of the wolves as Margaret and Richard's son, Devyn. That made the taller wolf Margaret.
"Your room is upstairs, third door on the left. There's a bathroom attached to your room. You and Devyn will be sharing it, and I don't want to hear either of you complaining about it not being kept clean."
Jason let out a silent snort — it was unlikely Margaret would ever hear him complain, short of a miracle from the gods. He hadn't spoken in ten years, since the accident that had taken both his parents and damaged his larynx.
"I'll let you get sorted. Lunch will be soon. Devyn should be back in a few minutes, and I'm sure he'd appreciate help setting the table for lunch."
The neko nodded. He expected chores. It made him feel more like part of the family to have chores.
'Thank you,' he signed.
"Of course," Margaret smiled.
Picking up his half-full suitcase, Jason made his way up the stairs, hugging the wall. The stairs were wide and well-made, but he wasn't taking any chances. As soon as he was safely on the second floor, the neko hurried away from the steps. They were a part of his new reality, and he would have to get over his fear of heights, but for now, he was going to avoid the stairs as much as possible.
The third door on the left was slightly ajar, sunlight shining through the opening. He stepped into the room, finding a bed sitting diagonally in the corner of the room with an empty bookshelf and a dresser against one wall and a desk sitting under an open window. The room seemed barren. But it was his room, his own room.
Jason set his suitcase on the floor next to the bed and began unpacking. The first thing he pulled out was his stuffed wolf, Elroy. It was the only thing he had left from before the accident, and he had kept the wolf hidden in the orphanage, not trusting the other kids to leave Elroy alone. It was hard enough being attacked for his silence and his race.
He set the stuffed animal on the bed, the first time he'd had Elroy out in the open in years. The neko prayed he wouldn't get in trouble for still sleeping with a stuffed animal at sixteen years old.
A truck pulled up to the house outside, the engine rumbling loudly. Jason peeked out the window, seeing a red wolf jump out of the idling vehicle. A neko followed, calico markings visible for the world to see. Devyn was home.

DEVYN

He could smell the neko, hidden away in the house. Devyn's ears perked up as he inhaled deeply. He had met Jason twice before, getting a warm feeling from the neko. He could trust his new brother.
"You didn't tell me he was a neko," his friend said uncertainly, looking up at a window.
Devyn huffed, trotting toward his house. He had never gotten Dylan's aversion to his own race. It was just one of those things that mystified him about the world. Why hate someone when you could have a nice roll in the lavender fields with them instead?
Dylan followed him, opening the door for the wolf.
"Father is waiting in the car. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He glanced at the window again, an uneasy scent pouring off him.
Devyn let out a quiet woof, stepping into the house. Taking a rope tied to the door into his mouth, the wolf pulled the door closed.
"I thought you were going to be home by noon."
The wolf's tail drooped at his mother's stern voice. He was only half an hour late. It wasn't like he could call in this form. Dropping low, Devyn rolled onto his back, squirming uncomfortably as he showed his belly.
Margaret frowned at Devyn, her body a mix of tans and greys. Devyn couldn't see the subtleties of colour, something that bothered him occasionally. Born a wolf, his eyes lacked the cones that allowed humans to see more colours, though he had more rods; his vision was better for tracking moving objects.
"Go get dressed. I'm going to pick up neko for lunch, and I want the table set by the time I get back. Oh, and make sure Jason’s doing okay. We want him to feel welcome."
Devyn rolled again, jumping to his feet. He bound up the stairs, paws skidding slightly as he turned the corner. The wolf flicked his door open with a foot pedal, ducking inside before it could close on his tail.
The wolf's den contained a bed and a large blanket shoved under a desk. A laptop sat on his desk, dust gathering on the lid. The grey curtains lay open on either side of his window, letting in the early afternoon sun. A patch of warm light begged him to nap on it, but Devyn resisted the temptation. He’d be in trouble if he didn’t set the table before his mom got home.
Taking a deep breath, the wolf let his human side take over. His body grew outward. A minute later, the seventeen-year-old were-human was lying on the floor, grimacing at the feel of rough carpet on his bare skin. He pulled himself to his feet, trying to get used to standing on two feet again. Things always looked so weird as a human….
Grabbing a kilt off his bed, Devyn stepped into the fabric, pulling it up to his waist. He hated clothes, hated the way they restricted his movements. But his parents were strict about the dress code. No running around the house wearing nothing but skin. At least the kilt offered a less restrictive alternative to pants and a shirt.
Picking up a cane leaning against the wall, the wolf wobbled out of the bedroom, making his way unsteadily downstairs. Wolves weren't meant to be on two legs, but it was yet another rule enforced by the world and his parents.
He entered the dining room off the kitchen, gathering a stack of plates. A rustle came from behind him and Devyn turned.
Jason stood at the entrance to the room, nervously watching the wolf. His lips moved with his hands, forming silent words that Devyn couldn't understand. The wolf found himself admiring the neko's slender build, the furry grey ears that peeked out of the nest of curly black hair on his head.
"Hey," Devyn said awkwardly, adjusting to more human vocal cords. "Do you want to help?"
The neko nodded, stepping forward. He took the plates carefully from the wolf, leaving Devyn to get the cutlery. They worked silently at their task, and Devyn was grateful that Jason didn't try to pressure him to speak. Words were so often inefficient when a simple ear flick could get the point across. Something he could see the neko knew well, as Jason used his ears to indicate which way he was walking so they didn't run into each other.
It didn't take long before the table was set. Devyn took up his cane again, stabilising himself as he moved toward the door.
"Thank you," he said to Jason.
The neko mouthed at him again, his hands moving — a silent language, yet one that was so different from his own. Devyn would have to learn it, eventually. But for now, he just nodded and went back to his room, eager to return to his natural form.

JASON

Roasted pheasant, seared squab with a cranberry dipping sauce... Jason looked around the table, touched by Margaret's gesture. Food of this quality was a rarity at the orphanage, and Niwo food especially. A dim memory of beans and rice fluttered through Jason’s mind — Ythin food from his homeland — but it was gone moments later. No sense in bringing up the past; he needed to focus on the present.
"I know it probably isn't authentic, but I hope this will make you feel more at home," Margaret said with a smile.
'Thank you so much. It really means a lot to me,' Jason signed.
Across the table, Devyn was sitting on his knees, gazing at the food with a ravenous look in his eyes. Jason knew he was different from most werewolves. Margaret had explained that Devyn was aerafael, born in wolf form. He wasn't a human, he was a wolf.
"Thank you, Mom," Devyn said, reaching for a pigeon.
For a wolf, he certainly was well-mannered. Even if he didn't use cutlery to eat.
Jason moved to get a piece of pheasant, and a quiet growl escaped from Devyn.
"Devyn!" Margaret said sharply.
The growling cut off. Devyn lowered himself in his seat, face drawn up.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"We talked about this. No one is going to steal your food."
Jason looked at Devyn warily, reaching for the food again. Devyn hunkered down in his seat, biting into his own food.
"Anyway, Jason, school starts on Feryal, in three days. Tomorrow I want to take you to the school and get you signed up for your classes. Do you know what you want to take?" Margaret asked, looking at the neko.
Swallowing, Jason nodded.
'I was taking Advanced Rellanic and Creative Writing. I'd like to continue both of those if I can. And something for library science, too.’ He flashed a tiny smile. ‘Librarian would probably suit me as a career.’
"Did you want to continue swimming?"
Jason noticed Devyn looking at him with interest. The neko nodded, his hands signing.
'Yes, though I will give up track if I have to.'
"I don't see why you would. As long as you don't have any problems handling both sports and your schoolwork. What about you Devyn? I assume you want to continue running."
The wolf nodded.
"I should learn sign language," he said. "And probably Rellanic."
"I want you to keep taking Marin's class."
Devyn frowned, tearing his pigeon apart.
"Do I have to? I can control myself."
"Well, maybe you can help teach the other wolves to control themselves," Margaret prodded.
'Who is Marin?' Jason asked.
"He holds a class for wolves, to help them learn control," Margaret explained.
Grumbling, Devyn dropped the remnants of the bird on his plate.
"May I be excused?" he all but demanded.
Margaret nodded with a quiet sigh. She and Jason watched the wolf carry his plate to the kitchen before hurrying up the stairs to his room.
'Is the class that bad?'
Margaret shrugged.
"They didn't have the class when I was young, and... well, Devyn paid the price for that. I just want him to know better than I did."