No Longer Fair To You Chapter 02
I’d always known that Anderson and Clayton were unhappy with me.
Anyone could see I was getting the much better end of the deal.
They were the top students at the Werebeast Academy—strikingly handsome, exceptionally skilled, arrogant, and incredibly popular.
In stark contrast, I was quiet, mediocre, and completely unremarkable.
If our genetic compatibility hadn’t been so incredibly high, the government would never have matched us, and our paths never would have crossed.
In the beginning, I was thrilled.
Growing up in an orphanage meant that all I ever wanted was a family to call my own.
I naively believed that Anderson and Clayton were the family I’d been waiting for my whole life.
So, no matter how badly they treated me or how blatantly they showed their disdain, I just brushed it off.
I kept giving them nothing but warmth and enthusiasm.
There was always a quiet satisfaction in watching them eat the meals I cooked.
It made me feel needed.
People needed to be anchored to something in this world, and Anderson and Clayton were my anchors.
Those first six months were brutal.
Both of them totally resented the marriage assignment.
Their old rivals had finally gotten the perfect excuse to mock them for being saddled with such an unremarkable mate.
For guys with egos that big, it was a massive humiliation—and they took it all out on me.
Anderson was the collected one; he mostly just froze me out, staying cold and detached.
Clayton, on the other hand, had a vicious temper. He tore into me constantly, trashing everything from my looks to my career.
If you listened to him, I was totally worthless, completely useless, and didn’t have a single redeeming quality.
Later on—I couldn’t tell you exactly when it started—the ice began to thaw.
Anderson, especially, stopped acting like I was invisible.
He actually started taking the milk I brought him and saying thank you.
Every now and then, he’d look at me and affectionately ruffle my hair, the kind of casual physical intimacy often seen between werebeast mates.
I wasn’t used to being treated like that, so I was surprised, but definitely flattered.
As for Clayton, the constant insults dialed back, and sometimes he’d even ask me to play video games with him.
Sure, he still complained about me dragging him down, but he’d say it while picking off the enemies attacking my character with perfectly timed headshots.
I honestly thought I’d finally broken through—that the worst was behind us and things were looking up.
My stubbornness was paying off; I was trying to please them, and they were trying to accept me.
At least, that was what I told myself until the incident with the shattered glass of milk.
My false sense of security was destroyed instantly, without any warning.
All my effort, my enthusiasm, my obsessive thoughtfulness, and my desperate clinging over the years suddenly boiled down to one ugly truth—I was just an obedient servant.
The most basic, pathetic, undignified kind of servant, blindly begging for scraps of affection.
