Liam’s P.O.V.
Mai sat stiffly on the rock beside , her eyes locked onto the lake’s surface, but I could tell she wasn’t really seeing it. Her fingers twitched against her knees, her whole body coiled tight like a bowstring.
She was scared.
That alone made my stomach turn. Mai Blackwood didn’t get scared. She laughed in the face of danger, t threats with sharp smirks and sharper claws. Seeing her like this—haunted, small—unnerved more than I cared to admit.
I forced my voice to stay light. "You know, worrying about sothing you don’t even rember doing sounds like a waste of energy."
She scoffed but didn’t turn her head. "Easy for you to say. You don’t have a monster living inside your head."
I swallowed, suddenly realizing I hated it when she talked about herself like that. I didn’t know much about the whispers in her head—she had just brushed over the topic when she told , and I never pushed—but I knew they scared her more than anything else.
So, I did the only thing I could think of. I lied.
"You’re not a monster," I said, my voice steady even though my chest felt tight.
Mai’s silver gaze flicked to , sharp. She had a look in them that I couldn’t decipher. She didn’t blink, didn’t move—just stared, like she was trying to peel back my words and see what was underneath.
I held her stare, refusing to look away.
I wasn’t sure if she found what she was searching for, but after what felt like forever, she exhaled and turned back to the lake. The tension between us didn’t vanish, but it softened—like a storm still rumbling in the distance, just not overhead anymore.
The silence stretched. Neither of us spoke.
Then, in a voice so quiet I almost thought I imagined it, she asked, "Can I rest on your lap?"
I blinked. My brain stalled.
"Wait—what?"
Mai’s expression twisted in an instant. "Forget it." She crossed her arms and threw on a smirk, sharp and mocking, like armor. "Wouldn’t want you crying about it later."
I almost rolled my eyes. Classic Mai. Turning vulnerability into sarcasm before anyone could use it against her. But I wasn’t falling for it.
"I didn’t say no," I said.
She hesitated, her fingers curling against her arms. "You paused."
I sighed. "Just lay down, Mai."
Her eyes narrowed, studying , searching for any sign that I was ssing with her. But I wasn’t.
Finally, after a long mont, she moved—slowly, like she was stepping onto ice that might crack beneath her. She settled down, resting her head on my lap, her golden curls spilling over my legs like wildfire.
I let my fingers glide through her hair. It was softer than I expected.
She went rigid for a second—so tense I almost thought she’d bolt.
Then—gradually—she relaxed.
The world around us faded into quiet. The whisper of the wind through the trees. The steady lap of water against the shore. Mai’s breathing, deep and even.
It felt... peaceful. Like, for the first ti in forever, she wasn’t fighting sothing.
Like, for the first ti in forever, neither was I.
And to my utter surprise, Mai Blackwood let go.
She fell asleep.
In my lap.
I didn’t stop stroking her hair, even long after she drifted off.
*******
Two Hours Later. I knew she was awake before she even opened her eyes.
The mont her breathing shifted, I felt her tense slightly, her fingers twitching where they rested against my knee.
I smirked. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."
Her eyes snapped open, and for the first ti since I had known Mai—Mai Blackwood blushed.
It was faint, barely there, but it was there. A light pink dusting across her cheeks.
But, of course, she was Mai, so she imdiately schooled her expression and sat up, her signature smirk falling into place.
"How long have I been asleep?" She asked.
"Two hours." I replied.
"You didn’t move for two hours?" she mocked, stretching. "What, enjoying playing prince charming, were you?"
I huffed a laugh. "Nah. Just making sure you didn’t start snarling in your sleep."
She shoved my shoulder lightly, and I grinned.
Then she paused, her gaze shifting to the small leather notebook resting beside .
"What’s that?"
I quickly grabbed it. "Nothing."
She squinted at . "Oh, it’s sothing."
"It’s a poem."
Her brows shot up. "A poem? You write poetry now?"
"For class."
That was a lie.
The poem wasn’t for class.
It was about her.
I had no idea why I wrote it. I didn’t even understand my own feelings for Mai half the ti. But I wasn’t about to let her read it.
"Lem see," she said.
"Nope."
She lunged. I dodged.
And just like that, we were running.
Her laughter rang through the trees as she chased , silver eyes gleaming with mischief. I weaved left, then right, darted under a low-hanging branch, my heart pounding as I clutched the notebook tighter. But she was fast—too fast.
Until—
She stopped.
Just like that.
One second, she was sprinting after , and the next, she was frozen, every muscle locking up like soone had yanked an invisible chain around her.
I skidded to a stop, breathless. "What—"
And then I heard it.
Footsteps.
A mont later, Beta Rylan erged from the trees, his towering fra making a long shadow over the forest floor. His expression was flat—stone cold—but beneath that sharp authority, sothing else lingered. Sadness.
Mai stiffened beside .
"Uncle Rylan?" she asked cautiously. "What are you doing here?"
Rylan’s jaw tightened. "You need to co ho, Mai. Your father is looking for you."
She went silent.
I felt Mai glance at , and when I turned, I saw it—fear.
Not frustration. Not annoyance. Fear. Raw and unfiltered, flickering in her silver eyes like a candle about to go out.
"What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "Why does he need ?"
Rylan exhaled slowly. "There’s been a complaint against you. You’re needed to answer for it."
Mai’s hands curled into fists. "A complaint?"
"There’s no ti to waste," Rylan said firmly. "Co with ."
She hesitated.
And in that mont, Mai Blackwood didn’t look like Mai Blackwood.
She didn’t look like the infamous, ruthless girl everyone feared.
She looked... lost.
Like a child standing in the dark, reaching for sothing solid.
I knew then that I couldn’t let her go alone.
"Can I co too?" I asked.
Rylan’s brows furrowed. "Why?"
"Because I want to."
He studied , his gaze sharp and assessing. Then, after a long pause, he sighed. "Fine. Everyone else is there anyway."
My stomach twisted.
Everyone else?
I glanced at Mai. Her breathing had gone shallow, her fists trembling.
I reached for her hand.
"Co on," I said softly.
She didn’t let go.
************
The first thing that struck when we arrived at the Alpha’s residence was the sheer number of people.
It wasn’t just a handful of onlookers—it was the entire pack.
A sea of faces, all turned toward us. All whispering.
About Mai. About . About whatever storm we had walked into.
Then, in the crowd, I spotted them—my parents.
The second they saw holding Mai’s hand, their faces shifted. My mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. My father’s brows knitted together, his gaze heavy with unspoken disapproval.
Sothing twisted in my chest, sharp and aching.
But I didn’t let go.
We moved through the murmuring crowd until we reached the center, where they stood—Alpha Lucian, Luna Teresa, and the pack’s witch, Elizabeth.
And then—
Arthur.
His parents flanked him, his mother trembling with grief, her face streaked with tears.
Arthur’s body shook as he lifted one trembling hand—
And pointed straight at Mai. Frantic. Desperate.
And then I saw it.
His mouth.
His lips were sealed shut. Not by stitches. Not by injury. But as if they had lted into one.
The sight sent a chill racing down my spine.
Arthur’s mother let out a wail, raw and broken. "She did this to my son! That wicked girl cursed him!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave. The murmurs turned to accusations, voices sharpening like knives.
Then—
"Enough."
Alpha Lucian’s voice cut through the noise, deep and commanding.
Silence fell like a hamr.
He turned to Mai, his face unreadable, his green eyes steady and unwavering.
"Did you do this?"
Mai’s grip on my hand tightened.
"I didn’t," she said. Her voice was firm, but there was sothing else beneath it. A tremor.
The whispers returned. Low. Doubtful.
Lucian’s expression darkened, his voice dropping into sothing heavier, sothing that made the very air shift around us.
"Mai," he said. "Tell the truth."
Her shoulders stiffened, her fingers curling tighter around mine.
"I—I don’t rember," she whispered. "I sleepwalk sotis, but I don’t—"
"Liar!" soone hissed.
"Witch!"
More voices joined in, the accusations coming sharper now, relentless.
Then the Luna stepped forward.
"Enough!"
Luna Teresa’s voice cracked through the voices.
Everywhere beca silent.
Arthur’s father stepped forward, his expression like carved stone. "I want justice," he said.
Others followed, stepping from the crowd. More voices. More demands.
And then my mother followed.
She stepped closer, her face softening, her voice quiet but firm.
"Liam," she murmured. "Let go of her hand."
I felt my father move behind , reaching out for my hand—
And that was when Mai snapped.
"NO!"
The force of her voice sent a shiver through the crowd.
Her silver eyes burned as she turned, fierce and wild.
"You want answers?" she seethed. "Then ask my parents."
The Alpha’s expression flickered. "Mai—"
"Tell the truth!" she scread.
Just then, the ground shook. A low, deep rumble.
Power crackled in the air, thick and electric. The earth trembled beneath us as if sothing ancient had stirred awake.
I barely had ti to react before—
Mai’s fingers tightened around mine—
then suddenly, the world around disappeared.
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