Screw My Mate, I'm Going Lycan - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

The next day, Dylan and Marcus showed up at my pack again—but this time, they weren't here for me. I had been handling pack business at the beta's house, which happened to be next to Amy's place. As I stepped outside, the scent of my two mates hit me—coming from her home.
Curiosity got the better of me. The windows were half-open, just enough to peek inside. And there they were—Dylan and Marcus, lounging on Amy's couch like they belonged there. She was glowing, laughing at something Dylan had said, her eyes bright with excitement.
Dylan held her hand, their fingers tangled together, while Marcus had his arm slung casually over her shoulders. The sight sent a sharp pang through my chest. This was betrayal. They'd promised to always have my back. Yet here they were, sneaking off to see her, showering her with attention while I stood outside like a ghost.
Amy giggled, tilting her face up toward Dylan. Marcus watched her with that stupid, lovesick look he used to reserve for me. The coffee table was littered with gifts—expensive ones. I could practically see the greed glittering in her eyes.
"This dress was designed by Rober D'sena—the top designer in the kingdom. He never repeats a design," Dylan bragged, puffing up like a peacock. "I got it for you so you'll outshine everyone at the university's freshers' party."
"Dylan, you're too sweet," Amy cooed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "This must've cost a fortune."
"Five million," he said proudly. "Barely won the auction. Would've gotten you something even better, but some mystery buyer outbid me."
"You can lose to anyone but me," Marcus cut in with a smirk before turning to Amy. "I told you I'd get you the best gift after you aced your exams. Here." He pulled out a diamond necklace, dangling it in front of her. "One of a kind. Wear this, and the entire party will choke on their envy."
"Oh, Marcus!" Amy snatched it up, then immediately put on this pitiful act. "I've never owned anything so... luxurious. I was afraid everyone at university would treat me like Bella's maid, just like in school. Thank you for being so thoughtful."
Dylan and Marcus exchanged a look before launching into a chorus of reassurances—promising to protect her, to make sure no one ever looked down on her. The same promises they'd once made to me. I almost laughed at the irony.
Then, like the snake she was, Amy twisted the knife. "But... maybe you should give these to Bella instead. I don't want to upset her. I'm fine with her hand-me-downs—she always gives me the dresses she doesn't like. If she finds out you bought me these, she'll... well, you know how she gets in private."
I froze. This was her game? In my past life, I'd thought she resented me out of pride—that she mistook my kindness for pity. But no. She'd been crafting this narrative all along.
Every time I bought myself a dress, I got her the same one—so she'd never feel lesser. I even begged her to wear them with me. But she'd always refuse, making excuses, only to show up later in a "ruined" version—fabric torn, colors faded. "Oh, I tripped," she'd say. Or, "I washed it wrong." At the time, it seemed odd. Now? Now I understood.
She wanted them to think I forced my scraps on her.
My fists clenched, but I stayed silent, waiting for their response.
Predictably, they fell for it.
"You're not wearing Bella's leftovers," Dylan snapped, his voice tight with anger. "You're her equal, Amy. You earned your spot at that university."
"He's right," Marcus added, grabbing her hands. "You don't need her charity. We've got you. Hell, we're even getting you a new Lamborghini—better than Bella's."
I backed away, my chest burning.