Chapter 5: The Truth Hurts

That bar conversation shattered something inside me. Everything I thought I knew about Derek—about us—was up for grabs.

Derek himself admitted I was just a tool to beat Marcus.

It was all some sick rivalry to him. Not love, not friendship—just competition.

Why?

I could barely breathe. My hands trembled. Was I really that blind?

"Derek, come on, isn’t Rachel your little childhood sweetheart? Why do you hate her so much?"

One of the other guys piped up, his tone half-teasing, half-serious. There was a clink of bottles as someone shifted in the booth.

"And Marcus, what did he ever do to you? He doesn’t even like Rachel, but still insists on competing with you for her?"

The third guy sounded genuinely puzzled. I strained to hear Derek’s answer, afraid of what I’d learn.

Derek snorted, his voice sharp with resentment.

There was a bitter edge to his laugh. I’d never heard him sound so cold.

"That tomboy Rachel’s been clinging to me since we were kids, always wanting me to show my ears and tail, treating me like a pet dog. Why wouldn’t I hate her?"

His words hit like a slap. Was that really how he saw me? Just some kid obsessed with his animal side?

"And she’s so gullible. I kept her dangling, told her I hadn’t hit adulthood yet and couldn’t get close to her, and she actually believed it. Ha! We shifters are naturals—I’ve been an adult and dating for ages, already had over a dozen girlfriends…"

The truth stung. He’d lied, over and over, while I waited for something real.

"As for Marcus, ugh, I just don’t like him. Just a half-demon, a low-level creature—what right does he have to be better than me? He even dared to warn me not to hurt Rachel. Of course I’m not letting him off easy."

His jealousy was toxic, curling around my memories like smoke. He’d always wanted to be first, no matter who got hurt.

"You guys don’t know, do you? Marcus’s feelings for Rachel go way beyond a simple crush. Rachel is his destined partner. When they first met at five, Marcus couldn’t control himself and transformed because he’d met his soulmate."

The pieces started to fall into place. That day on the porch—the horns, the tail, the shock—it all made a twisted kind of sense.

"He looked so ugly then—how could Rachel possibly like him?"

The cruelty in his voice made me shudder. He’d held that over Marcus for years, all because of a childhood accident.

"I swallowed my disgust and kept Rachel hanging just to get at Marcus. Tsk tsk, Marcus is already twenty-five and only now hitting adulthood. Isn’t it because Rachel refuses to get close to him…"

A lump formed in my throat. I’d never realized my distance from Marcus was hurting him this much. I thought I was protecting myself, but maybe I was just running away.

My heart felt like it’d been slammed with a hammer.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. All this time, I’d been someone else’s weapon.

So that first meeting, when Marcus suddenly grew horns and a tail in front of me—

It was all because of me. Because, to him, I was the one.

It was because I was his soulmate?

The word felt heavy, unreal. Was that why he’d always lingered, always waited?

And now, Derek had tricked me here just to torment Marcus.

I wanted to scream, to smash something. But I couldn’t move. The pain was too much.

From what they said, the one really suffering through adulthood is Marcus…

A sick feeling crept through me. What if he was in real danger—and I’d left him alone?

"Derek, but what if Rachel comes and finds out you’re fine?"

One of the other guys sounded worried. My ears strained to catch every word.

"So what? Act cute and she’ll fall for it. I know Rachel—she’s easy to fool."

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. I was so tired of being underestimated.

"At worst, I’ll let her pet my tail for a bit. So annoying. Afterwards I’ll have to wash it—if my fur picks up her scent, the others will make a fuss."

My stomach twisted. I wanted to laugh, to cry, to disappear. He never cared about me—just about what others thought.

The others…

The so-called pack. His real friends. I was never one of them.

Ha.

A bitter, hollow sound escaped my lips. It echoed in the empty hallway.

So he’s just a sly fox after all.

The mask was off. I saw him clearly now—selfish, manipulative, small.

I steadied myself against the wall, didn’t push open the booth door or storm in to confront him.

There was nothing left to say. He wasn’t worth it.

I looked at my phone. It was already one in the morning.

A flood of missed calls and texts from earlier glowed on the screen. I swallowed, anxiety spiking again.

It had been fifty minutes since Marcus messaged me.

Fifty minutes. My heart thudded. Was it too late?