Mai’s P.O.V.
My na is Mai Blackwood, and if there’s one thing you should know about , it’s that I’m not your hero. No, I’m the one you cross the street to avoid, the one whose na parents whisper to their children as a warning. I don’t care. I’ve always been this way. A force of chaos, a walking contradiction of beauty and nace.
The pack wasn’t just wary of —they feared . I’d bullied so many people that their faces blurred together in my mory. I didn’t care. Weakness disgusted , and I made sure everyone knew it.
"Do you even rember what you did to Liam Rivers?" Ollie asked one night, his voice heavy with frustration.
"No," I had answered honestly.
Ollie looked at like he couldn’t decide whether to be angry or heartbroken. "He had to leave because of you, Mai. Do you even care?"
I didn’t answer. Back then, I hadn’t cared. But today, sothing was different, and I hated it.
*******
I stood at the edge of the pack school’s courtyard, arms crossed, my eyes scanning the clusters of students around . They clung together like nervous little rabbits, pretending to enjoy my company while secretly praying I wouldn’t turn my attention on them next. The fear in the air was thick, cloying, almost sweet. I could practically taste it.
Pathetic.
I let out a slow, deliberate breath, dragging the mont out just enough to keep them on edge. Then I turned my gaze toward Sarah, who had been stupid enough to et my eyes earlier.
"You really think you’re going to pass the combat test tomorrow, Sarah?" I asked, my voice smooth, almost lazy.
She flinched, her cheeks burning red. "Uh, I—I’ve been practicing..."
I smiled. A slow, sharp thing.
"Practicing?" I tilted my head, letting my long curls spill over one shoulder. "Sweetheart, you couldn’t fight your way out of a paper bag."
The group laughed, but it was the wrong kind of laugh. Too high-pitched. Too forced. It grated on . They thought I was putting on a show for their amusent, but that wasn’t it. I wasn’t here to entertain them. I was bored. Restless. The usual emptiness clawed at my insides, and I needed sothing—anything—to fill it.
And then I saw him.
He stood by the gates, his posture stiff but unwavering, like he was daring soone to challenge him. The golden light of the setting sun frad his face, making his blue eyes seem almost unnaturally bright. I knew those eyes. I knew him.
Liam Rivers.
He was taller than I rembered, his shoulders broader, his jaw sharper.
Sothing inside stirred, a feeling I couldn’t na. My stomach twisted violently, my heart raced, my palms grew clammy, I couldn’t breathe.What was wrong with ?
I moved before I could think, my body carrying forward while my mind scrambled to catch up. The noise around faded. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else.
"Well, well." I forced my lips to curl into a smirk. "Liam Rivers."
He didn’t respond. He just stared, and I could feel the familiar fear he always held for , radiating all around him; but today, I wasn’t feeling the usual thrill it always brought .
I tilted my head, trying to make it seem like sothing about this conversation wasn’t making my heart beat faster. "Didn’t think I’d see you again."
"Sa," he muttered. The way he said it almost made flitch. I could almost feel the burnt of his hatred for , on my skin.
I studied him closely, my gaze unconsciously flickering to the scar on his forehead, that he tried to hide with his hair, before my eyes returned to his. Sothing resembling guilt tried to crawl up my chest but I quickly shot it down and masked it with a smile that honestly seed to scare him more than my presence did.
Liam’s gaze suddenly turned cold. "What do you want?"
"I—" I hesitated, suddenly lost for words.
"I don’t have ti for this," he said, brushing past .
For the first ti in my life, I felt...small.
*********
The pack buzzed with its usual energy as I made my way through the training grounds. My eyes caught the hesitant glances of others, followed by the quick dips of their heads. Fear. Respect. Loathing. I didn’t care I was used to it all. But what I couldn’t shake off was the feeling of seeing Liam again. Why did I freeze?
Ollie, stood across the field, barking orders to a group of younger wolves. He was the golden child—our father’s pride and joy, the future Alpha. His connection to the pack was sothing I could never replicate. I didn’t even want to.
"Mai," his voice broke through my thoughts. "You’re late."
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "I don’t rember signing up for punctuality lessons, dear brother."
Ollie sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "This isn’t a joke, Mai. You need to take things seriously. Dad’s patience is wearing thin."
"And yet here I am, still breathing," I shot back, smirking.
The tension between us was palpable, as it always was. Ollie’s gaze softened, just for a mont. "Mai, I’m trying to help you. Why do you always push away?"
Because you wouldn’t understand, I thought, but I didn’t say it. Instead, I shrugged and walked away, leaving him to clean up whatever ss I would inevitably cause next.
At ho, the atmosphere wasn’t much different. My mother, Luna Teresa, sat at the dining table, flipping through a book. Her light brown hair, beautiful as ever, frad her sharp features. She didn’t look up as I entered.
"Elizabeth will be here soon," she said.
"Great," I muttered. "Can’t wait for another lecture on ’discipline and focus.’"
"You need those lessons, Mai," my father’s deep voice echoed from the doorway. Alpha Lucian Blackwood, the epito of strength and authority. His presence was always suffocating.
"I’m fine as I am," I replied, eting his piercing gaze.
"You’re not," he said bluntly. "And you know it."
That was the thing about my parents. They never sugarcoated anything, especially when it ca to . I wasn’t like Ollie. I wasn’t like anyone else in the pack. My werewolf side felt...distant, almost like I didn’t have one. The witchcraft lessons with Elizabeth felt like a cruel joke. She always focused more on , pushing harder than she did Ollie.
"Why ?" I asked Elizabeth once during one of our lessons.
Her brown eyes had softened, but she didn’t answer. She never did.
The only person who truly got was Eldur Daegon. If I was chaos, he was the storm that followed—relentless, reckless, and just as unhinged. He was the son of my second dad, Adrian Daegon, and Juliette Malcom—don’t ask, it’s a long story. What mattered was that Eldur was my best friend, my partner in cri, the only person who didn’t look at like I was so kind of problem to fix. Together, we were unstoppable—and completely insufferable to everyone else.
That’s why our parents did everything they could to keep us apart. But rules never really applied to us. We had a secret way of communicating that was better than any smartphone or mind link—mirrors. Any mirror, anywhere. We bent magic to our will, slipping through reflections like whispers in the dark. Not even Ollie knew about it. And we intended to keep it that way.
"Mai," Eldur’s voice echoed through the mirror in my room. His smirk was just as mischievous as I rembered.
"Eldur," I said, leaning closer to the glass. "Miss ?"
"Always." His tone was teasing, but there was a sincerity beneath it.
"They still on your case?" he asked, his blue eyes glinting with amusent.
"When aren’t they?" I replied. "Ollie’s practically a saint, and I’m the devil reincarnated."
Eldur laughed, a sound that felt like ho. "Good. Saints are boring."
As the laughter died down, I stared absent-mindedly at the mirror, my mind going back to Liam. Eldur looked at for a while, his usual smirk replaced by a look of concern.
"What’s wrong?" he asked.
"Liam’s back," I blurted without thinking.
Eldur raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And...I don’t know." I ran a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Sothing’s wrong with , Eldur. I don’t know what it is, but it’s ssing with my head."
Eldur’s expression softened. "There’s nothing wrong with you, Mai. You’re just...different."
"Different doesn’t even begin to cover it," I muttered.
"You’re not alone," he said, his voice firm. "You’ve got ."
I understood what he ant but I just couldn’t shake off the feeling.
The next day, Ollie and I were heading to the training grounds when I saw him again—Liam. This ti, I didn’t charge in like a reckless idiot. Instead, I hung back, watching him from a distance, trying to figure out why his presence clawed at sothing deep inside .
Ollie noticed, of course. He always did. "What’s with you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he followed my gaze.
"Nothing," I said, too quickly.
"Right." He wasn’t buying it. "You’ve been acting weird since he showed up again. What’s going on, Mai?"
"Drop it, Ollie," I snapped, cutting him off.
He raised his hands, the picture of surrender, but his voice still carried that annoying tone of big-brother wisdom. "Fine. But you’d better figure out whatever’s eating at you, Mai. Before it eats you alive."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," I muttered, not even paying attention.
As we walked, I suddenly stopped in my tracks. "Ollie, go ahead to the training grounds. I’ll et you there."
"What? Where are you going?" he called after , his tone sharp with suspicion.
I didn’t answer. My feet were already moving, carrying toward Liam before I could second-guess myself. Whatever this was—this ss of feelings swirling in my chest—I needed answers. And there was no better ti than now to get them.
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