The Curvy Heiress: Lost Werewolf Sister

Dropping a tray, spilling a coffee, and nearly tripping over a wobbling chair, I dashed through the Moonlight Café like it was some kind of obstacle course designed specifically to humiliate me.“Good morning, Clara,” my boss grumbled from behind the counter, one eye twitching as he surveyed the cappuccino foam dripping down my sleeve. “And what disaster are you bringing today?”“Just my usual charm, sir,” I said, scooping up the fallen cup and mumbling a silent apology to the floor. Curvy, messy-haired, and perpetually under-caffeinated, I was Clara Hale: waitress, college senior, and valedictorian-in-waiting. My brain was brilliant, my social life nonexistent, and my sense of grace… well, let’s just say gravity and I had an unspoken rivalry.A table of giggling freshmen waved at me. “Clara, you’re late!” one called, as if my tardiness was some celebrity scandal.“Yeah, yeah,” I said, flipping my apron around and muttering, “Time is a social construct. Chaos is inevitable. And coffee

“Congratulations, Miss Hale.”Principal Dorsey’s voice was warm but formal, like he’d practiced being proud in the mirror. He handed me my diploma folder and gave my shoulder a quick pat that was supposed to be fatherly but felt more like a tap on a keyboard.“You’ve made this school very proud,” he said. “Your grades are outstanding, and your speec - well, you made half the staff cry.”“I’ll consider that a victory,” I said, shaking his hand. “Thank you, sir. And thank you for not mentioning the coffee incident from last semester.”His mustache twitched. “The one involving the dean’s laptop or the janitor’s cart?”“Yes.”He sighed, smiling despite himself, and waved me on.I walked down the stage steps, trying not to trip on the hem of my gown. Cassie was waiting with the kind of grin you could see from space.“You nailed it!” she hissed as I sat beside her. “You made Dorsey emotional! The man who once called our entire year a ‘disciplinary disaster!’”“I have many talents,” I whispe

“Clara Hale.”The man’s voice was deep - not loud, but the kind that made the air itself listen. I froze halfway between fight and flight, the strap of my bag cutting into my shoulder.“Who’s asking?” I said, because apparently my mouth had no self-preservation instincts.The four of them stood like a wall - tall, broad, expensive. The front one, gray-eyed and calm in that terrifyingly controlled way, tilted his head slightly. “We are.”“That’s… not creepy at all,” I said. “You know there are laws about lurking in alleys, right? You look like an Armani ad for restraining orders.”The corner of his mouth almost twitched - almost. “You haven’t changed.”“I’m sorry, have we met? Because I think I’d remember four guys who look like they walked off the cover of magazine.”The tallest one stepped forward, his presence sharp enough to slice air. “Clara Hale… you are our sister.”The world tilted.I blinked. “Okay. Nope. Wrong script. I think you’ve confused me with literally anyone else.”T

By the time I reached The Rusty Howl, I’d downgraded from full panic to “mildly deranged.”A win, in my book.The place was its usual brand of depressing. Wood paneling that smelled like wet pine and regret, neon signs buzzing like angry hornets, and the jukebox eternally stuck on 90s country heartbreak hits.Cassie was already at the bar, twirling a straw in her drink like she was plotting someone’s downfall.“You look like you fought a raccoon and lost,” she said the second she saw me.“Close,” I said, sliding onto the stool beside her. “Four raccoons in human suits.”“...You’re not joking, are you?”“Not even a little,” I said, waving at the bartender. “Whiskey. Something that tastes like amnesia.”Cass frowned. “You sure you’re okay? You’re pale.”“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just need about twelve ounces of self-care in liquid form.”When the drink came, I tossed back half of it in one go. The burn hit hard enough to make my eyes water. “See? Therapy.”Cass snorted. “You’re a disaster.”

Cass’s hand was still clutching mine, cold and shaking. “You’re not seriously thinking about going with them, are you?”Her voice cracked in the middle, somewhere between disbelief and panic. I wanted to laugh, or maybe cry. I wasn’t sure which. Because truth was, I wasn’t sure of anything.The alley was empty now, the chaos of the bar fading into distant sirens. Just me, Cass, and four men who claimed to be my long-lost brothers. Four strangers who somehow felt like ghosts of something I’d lost before I even knew it was gone.Kieran took a careful step closer. “Clara, I know this is a lot to take in-”“Stop saying that!” I snapped. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what this is for me!”He didn’t argue. He just stood there, his expression unreadable. That somehow made it worse.Cass’s grip tightened. “You don’t have to go. We can call the police. We can… we can figure this out.”“Cass,” I said softly, shaking my head. “The police can’t help with this.”“Oh, right, because now we’re