Each week, I send out a story via my email newsletter. Each story is around 1000 words, sometimes less, sometimes more. The stories are in a variety of genres: supernatural, thriller, sci-fi, horror, and sometimes romance, and all of my stories typically feature a gay protagonist.
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This is story number 19 of the series. Enjoy!
The Wolfsbane Feast
Marcus stood in front of his bathroom mirror, adjusting his navy sweater for the hundredth time. Thanksgiving at his parents’ house always made him nervous, but this year was different. This year, he had two secrets to keep.
“You can do this,” he whispered to his reflection. “Just six hours of normal family time. No big deal.”
His phone buzzed. A text from his mother: “Honey, don’t forget to pick up Aunt Helen. And please arrive by 3 PM sharp.”
Marcus groaned. Aunt Helen, with her endless questions about his love life and when he’d “find the right girl.” If she only knew he’d been dating Tom for the past eight months. But that wasn’t even his biggest secret.
The full moon was tonight.
He wasn’t worried as moonrise wasn’t until around eight-thirty pm. He’d have plenty of time to enjoy dinner with his family and then skedaddle back to safety, far away from everyone.
He grabbed his keys and headed out to his car, trying to ignore the way his heightened senses were already kicking in. The scent of his neighbor’s turkey cooking three houses down made his stomach growl. Being a werewolf during Thanksgiving was particularly challenging — all those smells, the raw meat, the hunting instincts barely contained beneath his skin.
Aunt Helen was waiting for him outside her apartment building, wearing a floral dress that looked like it came straight from 1985.
“Marcus, darling!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. She then brought a hand to his forehead. “You feel so warm! Are you running a fever?”
“Nah, just excited for Mom’s cooking,” he lied, helping her into the car. “Plus I always run a couple of degrees warmer.” Another symptom of the approaching transformation – elevated body temperature.
The drive to his parents’ house was filled with Aunt Helen’s endless chatter about her bridge club and the latest neighborhood gossip. Marcus nodded at appropriate intervals, but his mind was elsewhere. Tom had wanted to come to dinner, to finally meet the family, but Marcus had convinced him to wait. “Let’s get through the holidays first,” he’d said. “Then I promise you I’ll come out to them.”
When they arrived, the house was already full. His sister Sarah and her husband were there with their twins, his younger brother David had brought his new girlfriend, and various aunts, uncles, and cousins milled about.
“There’s my boy!” his mother called out, rushing to hug him. Marcus tried not to flinch as another wave of scents hit him – sage, thyme, rosemary, and underneath it all, the raw turkey waiting to go into the oven.
“Need any help in the kitchen, Mom?”
“You can help David with the appetizers,” she said, already turning to greet Aunt Helen.
In the kitchen, David was arranging cheese and crackers on a platter. “Hey bro,” he said, then lowered his voice. “Tom called the house earlier.”
Marcus froze. “What?”
“Don’t worry, I answered. Told Mom it was a wrong number.” David gave him a knowing look. “You should tell them, you know. They’ll be cool with it.”
“It’s… complicated,” Marcus replied, grabbing a knife to help slice cheese. If David only knew how complicated. Being gay was one thing – being a werewolf who could tear through the entire family during tomorrow’s full moon was another entirely.
The afternoon progressed with the usual family chaos. The twins chased each other around the house, someone spilled wine on the carpet, and Uncle Bob started his annual rant about right-wing politics. Marcus kept checking his phone, monitoring the moon’s schedule. He’d need to leave by seven-thirty PM to ensure he was safely locked in his reinforced basement before the transformation began.
Then his mother dropped the bomb.
“I’ve invited the new neighbors for dessert!” she announced. “Their daughter Rachel is about your age, Marcus. They’ll be here around eight-thirty.”
Marcus nearly choked on his water. “Mom, I can’t stay that late. I have… work tomorrow morning.”
“On the day after Thanksgiving? Don’t be silly, dear.”
The walls seemed to close in. His heart raced, and he could feel the wolf stirring inside him, responding to his anxiety. He needed an escape plan.
That’s when Tom texted: “Surprise! I’m outside your parents’ house. Time to face the music together! ❤️”
“No, no, no,” Marcus muttered, jumping up from the table. But before he could reach the door, his mother had already opened it.
“Oh! Hello there,” she said to Tom, who stood on the porch holding a pumpkin pie.
“Mrs. Chen! I’m Tom, Marcus’s—”
“Friend!” Marcus interrupted, reaching the door. “From work. Who was just leaving.”
The moon was rising earlier than he’d calculated. He could feel it pulling at him, making his skin crawl. And now Tom was here, looking hurt and confused, while his entire family watched from the dining room.
Sarah’s twins ran to the door. “Uncle Marcus, your eyes look funny!”
Marcus caught his reflection in the hallway mirror – his eyes were starting to glow amber. He had minutes, not hours.
In that moment, looking at Tom’s wounded expression and his family’s confused faces, Marcus made a decision. He couldn’t keep running from who he was – any of it.
“Mom, Dad, everyone,” he said, his voice shaking. “I need to tell you something. Actually, two things. First, Tom isn’t just my friend. He’s my boyfriend, and I’m gay.”
The silence was deafening until his mother spoke. “Oh, honey, we know. We’ve been waiting for you to tell us. Tom, please come in and have some turkey.”
Marcus grabbed Tom’s hand. “That’s… not all. And I’m sorry, but you all need to stay inside. Lock the doors. I’ll explain everything tomorrow, but right now, I need to get to my basement, or things are going to get very… hairy.”
He kissed Tom quickly, whispered “I love you,” and sprinted to his car. In the rearview mirror, he saw his family gathering on the porch, watching him drive away. Tom stood with them, still holding his pumpkin pie, a smile spreading across his face.
The next day, Marcus returned for leftover turkey dinner, this time with Tom by his side. To his amazement, his family had questions about both revelations, but their love hadn’t changed. His mother’s only complaint was that he’d missed meeting the neighbors’ daughter.
“Trust me, Mom,” he said, squeezing Tom’s hand under the table, “I’m exactly where I need to be.”
And for the first time in years, both man and wolf agreed completely.
The End