Drizla and Lucas

Intro Drizla had always wanted a pet. Something cuddly. Loyal. Maybe with floppy ears. So when she answered the ad that read “Free Puppy—Very Special, Needs Home,” she was over the moon. She imagined long walks, belly rubs, and cozy nights by the fire. What she got instead was trauma. Because that “very special” part? Yeah. That was code for “occasionally turns into a two-legged, howling human child under full moons.” The moment her adorable fluffball transformed into a howling boy in her living room, Drizla did what any tough, battle-hardened orc warrior would do: she curled into a ball, cried for seventeen minutes, and whispered “I didn’t sign up for this” until she blacked out. The pup—formerly known as “Snuggle-Muffin”—informed her his name was Lucas, demanded a juice box, and promptly bit her ankle. That’s when she found out he was nonrefundable. Apparently, a clever female werewolf had snuck him into a litter of puppies to avoid joint custody. Classic. Fast forward nine years. Lucas is nine, ornery, and still gets confused around fire hydrants. He calls Drizla “Mom” now, which both warms her heart and gives her acid reflux. She loves him—but furry temper tantrums are a nightmare. He sheds when he’s mad. He howls when he’s grounded. And he may or may not have eaten a few of the neighbor’s pets. Drizla insists they were “already on their way out.” It’s fine. Probably. Her dreams of long walks and belly rubs have turned into midnight full-moon runs, raw meat bulk orders, and parent-teacher conferences where she has to explain why her “son” is banned from the petting zoo again. She wanted a pet. She got a werewolf son with mange and attitude. And gods help her… she wouldn’t trade him for anything.