Shocking revelation

        ~SHOCKING REVELATION~

I sit up slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. “No, Mom. There’s no need to ruin anything.”

She blinks. “What?”

“I said the wedding will go on.”

Her mouth falls open so fast I’m afraid her jaw might hit the floor.

I shrug casually. “I mean… he’s hot and apparently very rich. Yeah he looks like lots of trouble but maybe I can handle him.”

Her soul visibly leaves her body for a second.

“Handle him?” her voice cracks. “Clary, he is the most dangerous werewolf in Greece, he turned to a bloodthirsty beast after his family was slaughtered.”

“Would you rather give him Betty?,” I ask.

She keeps quiet.

“Honestly, I’m not scared of him.” I say boldly.

“What happened to you? You’re so different from the Clary that I knew. Maybe it’s because you lost your memory.” She says, looking at me uncertainly. 

I lean back, stretching, and an unexpected craving slams into me like a truck.

“Mom?”

She looks at me, exhausted and confused.

I grin. “I want pepperoni pizza.”

Silence.

She just stares.

Like she’s waiting for the punchline. Like maybe I’ve hit my head harder than the doctor thought.

“Pep… what?”

“Pizza,” I repeat brightly. “Pepperoni. Extra cheese. Maybe stuffed crust. Maybe a milkshake too.”

She looks physically ill.

“Clary,” she whispers, as if I just confessed I wanted to eat dirt, “you are a werewolf.”

“Okay?”

“Werewolves,” she says, hands shaking, “do not eat human junk food. We don’t eat processed anything. We eat fresh meat from the source or at least roasted meat.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That sounds really tiring. What do you mean , I get to eat only meat all my life. Roasted or not, it’s boring. Her eyes nearly pop out of her skull.

“Boring?” she repeats in horror.

“Mom,” I say gently, patting her hand. “Listen. I don’t want raw flesh or roasted chicken. I want pizza. Preferably hot. With cheese stretching and pepperoni sizzling.”

“Clary!”

“I will literally die again if I don’t get some,” I add dramatically.

She reels back like I slapped her with a dead salmon.

“Oh dear goddess,” she mutters under her breath. “This memory loss is worse than the doctor said.”

I smile sweetly, unconcerned.

“Can you get it for me?”

She hesitates… then finally nods, still shaken.

“Fine. I will..get you” she swallows..“pep-per…oni… piz…za.”

She can barely pronounce it.

I beam. “Thank you, Mom!”

She walks toward the door like she’s heading to her own funeral.

And just before she leaves, she glances back with genuine worry. "Please don’t tell your father.”

The door clicks shut.

I flop back on my pillows, grinning.

If this is what being a werewolf is like, I’m going to have so much fun.

I lie back on my bed, scrolling through my social media feed, and a horrifying truth slowly hits me:

I used to be that girl.

The rich one and people pleaser.

The one who commented “OMG bestie!!”

under every post like I want to be in everyone’s good book.

I sigh dramatically.

Great.

Past me was a friendly golden retriever with boundary issues.

An hour later, a new sensation hits me.

Smell of Heaven.

My nose twitches.

My eyes widen.

Pizza.

I don’t know where it is but I can smell yummy, cheesy pizza drifting down the hall.

The door swings open.

My mom walks in, stiff and nervous, holding a pizza box like it might explode. Behind her is Doctor Kael, adjusting his glasses like he’s preparing for a serious experiment.

I blink at both of them.

“Uhh… why is he here?”

My mother clears her throat dramatically. “The doctor needs to examine you.”

“For what? Pepperoni poisoning?”

She ignores that. “Werewolves don’t eat pizza, Clary. This could be dangerous.”

Doctor Kael steps closer, absolutely serious. “Please hand her the pizza so we can observe how long it stays in her throat before she spits it out.”

I stare at him.

He stares back.

I slowly look at the pizza box.

Then back at him.

“You think I’m going to vomit like a malfunctioning blender?”

He nods gravely.

I open the box anyway. The sight nearly brings tears to my eyes.

Yummy!

Greasy perfection.

I place the box on my bed like a sacred offering, pick up a slice, and take the first bite.

Hot, sizzling and tasty.

Heaven.

I take another bite.

And another.

The crust crunches. The pepperoni melts. My soul ascends.

Then..

“CLARY!!!”

My mother’s scream cracks through the room like thunder.

I choke slightly, not on the pizza but the shock.

I look up.

She is staring at me like I’m performing a Satanic ritual.

Doctor Kael steps back with wide, horrified eyes.

He looks like he just witnessed a werewolf eat a human baby.

“Her body is accepting it,” he whispers, trembling. “This… this is unnatural.”

Before I can say anything, my step-sister, Betty bursts in like she heard gossip.

“What is going?”

She sees the slice in my hand.

Her eyes explode.

“Oh my God, Clary drop it!”

She screams like I’m holding a live grenade.

The pizza is still in my mouth.

My mother is hyperventilating.

Doctor Kael is whispering prayers.

My sister is clinging to the doorframe like she’s watching a crime scene.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting on the bed with cheese on my lip like:

“ can I finish?”

Doctor Kael is staring at me like I just split the sea with my bare hands.

His mouth hangs open.

His soul looks like it disconnected from his body.

He suddenly drops to his knees.

On the floor.

Right in front of me.

He bows his head so low his forehead nearly kisses the tiles and begins chanting something in a language I’ve never heard before, deep, ancient, reverent.

My jaw drops.

Is this man seriously worshipping me because I ate few slice of pepperoni?

I glance at my mom and stepsister, hoping one of them will explain, but they look just as confused and terrified, as I feel.

“Umm… excuse me?” I wave awkwardly. “Doctor Kael?”

He doesn’t stop.

He kneels deeper.

Okay.

We’re doing this.

Cool. Cool.

“Can you at least stand up and explain what in the holy grease is happening?” I ask.

He jerks upright immediately, eyes wide, glassy, emotional, like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Clary…” he whispers, voice trembling. “Do you understand what you just did?”

“Yeah,” I deadpan. “I ate pizza. A very good one, actually.”

He shakes his head violently.

“No. You consumed human food without struggle. And not only did you swallow it, You are fine.”

I blink.

He steps closer, reverent.

“In the entire history of our kind, no werewolf has been able to swallow human food without vomiting within seconds. It poisons us. Weakens us. Drops us to our knees.”

My stepsister gasps dramatically, like this is insane.

He continues, breathless, awestruck:

“But once… once in our recorded lineage, during the era of the Second Generation… there was one woman.”

He pauses, eyes shining.

“Arielle.”