Zara's Wolf (Book 1 of the Zara's Wolf Trilogy) BWWM

28. Royal Breakfast

"I know, Mama."

"I took today off," she says, sitting down on my bed. "We can do something fun."

"Okay," I murmur into my pillow. "Just give me half an hour."

She touches my head before her weight lifts off the bed. "Okay."

I relax for a bit before hauling myself up to get ready for the day. I know I will have to call Ruby later, and I'm not looking forward to it. I know, however, that the sooner I call her, the better. If I put it off too long, it will only give her more power over me.

After breakfast, I tell myself as I amble to my antique dresser. It's the oldest thing I own, and has been in my mother's family since they were freed from slavery. I run my fingers over its surface, revealing a thin coat of dust.

Ignoring it for now, I pull out some clothes and set them on my double bed. My room isn't very big, but it's enough for me. I have a small closet full of clothes and a little desk next to my dresser that I used for homework. My laptop is still sitting on top of the desk, collecting dust as well.

Slipping into a pair of navy blue jean short-shorts and a loose-fitted sunshine-yellow crop-top, I glance at my reflection in the mirror before leaving my mauve-painted room.

When I step out into the off-white hallway, the dark hardwood floors creaking under my feet, the smell of bacon and sausages waft toward me from the kitchen.

I love it when Mama doesn't go into work. She always makes breakfast fit for a king.

With my head feeling better, I hurry downstairs to gobble up the best breakfast I've had in weeks. I don't even notice my parents staring at me as I stuffed my face.

"Make sure you chew, Princess," Daddy says before taking a sip of his coffee. "You're not a chipmunk, and can't just pack more into those cheeks and expect it all to fit in there."

Mama shoots him a quick look, but it's too late. I'm already choking on a piece of sausage. "Honestly," Mama says as the morsel dislodges itself from my throat and into my waiting napkin, "Do you have to utter such nonsense while she's eating?"

"She knows I'm just teasing," he says, taking another sip of his coffee.

I would have laughed, but any animal comment is now officially throwing me off. After a series of coughs, I stare at my plate. Half of my breakfast has disappeared and I briefly pause in wonder. Did I really just shovel all that into my mouth in a minute?

While I am stoked to eat this amazing breakfast, I can't help but ponder as to why I am able to eat four eggs, a whack of bacon, and half a dozen breakfast sausages, and not gain any weight. Is it because of my inner wolf that I'm able to metabolize so much?

What's more, do my parents know?

"I guess I shouldn't wolf this down so fast, huh?" I mumble, looking up to study their expressions to the blatant hint.

"Of course not," Mama says. "But you do it all the time, despite the number of times I've told you to slow down. But do you listen to me at all?"

"Nag, nag, nag, nag," Daddy pipes up.

"Hush up," Mama says, slapping him playfully on the shoulder. "One of these days, she will choke on something, and won't be able to cough it up. Then what?"

"You and I both know the Heimlich maneuver. We learned it specifically for this reason."

"But we can't always be there for her," Mama snaps back. "How many more times does it have to happen before it really does her in?"

I tune out their bickering and poke an over-easy egg yoke with the tip of my fork. As it bleeds over the plate, I try to decipher their responses to mine and I can't tell if they picked up on the hint or not. Do they know, or don't they?

"Baby, are you okay?" Mama asks, pulling me out of my stupor.

I look up as they regard me and my half-eaten plate.

"Uh, yeah," I mumble as my eyes fall back on my plate. I suddenly don't feel hungry anymore. "I guess my stomach shrank while I was out in the forest."

"Oh," Mama says. "Well, then. Are you ready to go? I have a mani and pedi appointment booked for us. I figured you would like a bit of pampering after all you've been through. And then, I thought we could go for a cup of tea at the Chinese Garden downtown and just relax for a bit there. And then..."

I zone out as she rambles off a few more ideas of things we could do together. I really just want to snuggle up with them on the couch and watch a movie, but we can do that later.

What I really want to know is the truth. Do they know I am a shifter? Are they shifters too? Why have they kept this from me after all this time?

Then there are the opposite questions: what if they don't know I'm a shifter? What would that mean?

Pursing my lips, I nod my head at my mother. I watch as my parents get up from the table before I get up myself. My stomach twists in a knot.

If it's one thing I can draw from this puzzle, it is that they are definitely hiding something from me. The question is: what?