Beneath the Alpha's Moon Chapter 218: The Deal

Liam’s P.O.V.

The mont my fingers closed around the book, an icy jolt shot up my arm. It wasn’t a normal kind of cold—it was the kind that seeped into my bones, slithering through my veins like sothing alive. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my hand trembled as I gripped the ancient leather cover.

A whispering sensation crawled up my spine, a low hum in the back of my mind that wasn’t my own.

This is wrong.

North, growled deep inside , but it wasn’t in protest. No, it was a hunger—a dark, desperate need curling beneath my skin.

"We shouldn’t be weak, Liam," North rumbled. "We should do anything to get Mai back."

I clenched my jaw. That was the problem, wasn’t it? There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Mai. No price too steep. No line too bold to cross.

Dawson’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as he saw the turmoil on my face. "That book will take you straight to Mai," he said, his voice low, coaxing. "And not just that—it will give you the strength to fight Eldur. To take Mai back."

I narrowed my eyes. "And what do you get out of this?"

Dawson’s smirk widened. "A small price."

The way he said it made my stomach twist.

I exhaled sharply. "What kind of price?"

Dawson chuckled, shaking his head, eyes glinting with sothing I couldn’t read. "Nothing for now. Just... a favor. One I’ll ask for after you’ve gotten Mai back."

Shady. Too shady.

My jaw tightened. Every instinct scread at to back out, to turn around and find another way.

"This is a trap," I told North. "I don’t trust him. We should find another way to get Mai back."

North was silent for a mont, but when he spoke, his voice was firm. "What other way, Liam?"

I hesitated.

Damn it.

North let out a low growl. "That’s what I thought. We don’t have ti to search for a perfect solution. We accept the deal—get Mai back—then deal with whatever cos next."

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face. Every nerve in my body told this was a mistake. But I had nothing. No plan. No leverage.

Dawson was still watching , waiting.

"Mai first. Everything else later," North reminded .

I clenched my teeth. Damn it.

"Fine," I muttered, forcing the word out like it physically hurt.

Dawson smirked. "Good choice."

I ignored him. "What do I need to do?"

Dawson’s eyes glead. "Bring sothing of Mai’s. A piece of her clothing will do."

I hesitated for half a second before realization struck. Mai always left her things at my house. Back when Mai and I thought nothing could separate us—before everything—she’d sneak into my room, leaving shirts, scarves, even her socks behind like she owned the place.

Please let Mom not have thrown them out.

"I’ll be back," I said quickly, shoving the book back to Dawson.

Dawson only nodded. "I’ll be waiting."

I shifted the mont I was out of Dawson’s sight, the familiar sensation ripping through as my body morphed into fur, muscle, and raw speed. North wasted no ti, sprinting through the trees toward ho.

By the ti I reached the house, my heart was hamring. The lights were off except for a faint glow from the kitchen. Good.

I shifted back, creeping toward the door, careful not to make a sound. The hinges groaned slightly as I pushed it open, but no one stirred.

With a silent breath, I slipped inside, moving like a shadow through the darkened hallway.

When I got back ho earlier today, I expected my room to be exactly how I left it—untouched, neat, like a frozen mont in ti. And it was. The bed still made, the books on my desk stacked just right, the air still carrying that faint trace of lavender from Mom’s last obsessive cleaning spree.

But the closet? That was a different story.

Mom must have gone through it. Straightened things up. Rearranged. Cleaned out what she thought I didn’t need.

A cold dread curled in my stomach.

If she touched the closet, then...

I yanked the doors open, heart pounding as I tore through the shelves. Clothes tumbled to the floor as my hands scrambled through every inch. Co on, co on—

And then I saw it.

A loose t-shirt, half-buried at the bottom, crumpled and forgotten.

Mai’s.

The second my fingers closed around the worn fabric, my breath hitched. The faint scent of Vanilla and sothing uniquely her—familiar, sweet, heartbreakingly real—engulfed . My chest tightened, my grip firm.

I turned for the door, moving on instinct—

And nearly slamd into Mom.

I stopped dead, my breath catching.

She didn’t flinch. Just stood there, arms crossed, eyes sharp as they flicked from my face to the bundle in my hands.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, voice deceptively casual.

I swallowed hard. "Water." I lifted my free hand as if that sohow proved my point.

Mom didn’t buy it. She lingered, her gaze pressing into like she was reading between the lines, piecing together things I wasn’t ready to explain.

Then, without a word, she turned and walked past , straight to the kitchen. The sound of water running filled the silence, followed by the clink of glass against the counter. She turned back, holding out the cup.

"Drink."

Damn it.

I hesitated but took the glass, forcing down slow sips as if this was exactly what I wanted to be doing instead of sprinting back to Dawson.

She watched . Waiting.

And just like that, my escape plan was dead in the water.

I exhaled through my nose, defeated. "Goodnight," I muttered, before trudging back to my room, Mai’s shirt still clutched in my hand.

Fifteen minutes later, I shoved my window open, glancing down at the darkened yard below. My heart thumped as I swung one leg over the ledge, then the other, carefully lowering myself down before shifting back into my wolf form and bolting into the night.

Dawson was waiting by the lake, the book sat beside him on a smooth, flat rock, its worn cover catching the moonlight. He barely moved as I approached, only lifting his gaze when I was close enough to hear the rustling leaves.

"You got it?"

I held up Mai’s t-shirt.

But just before I handed it over, doubt clawed its way in. My fingers tightened around the fabric. "Are you sure this will work?"

Dawson’s expression didn’t waver. "I swear on my life—and my family’s." His voice softened just enough to sound sincere. "I care about Mai too. That’s why I’m helping you."

I wasn’t sure I believed that. But belief didn’t matter. Desperation did.

I handed him the shirt.

Dawson flipped open the book, his fingers gliding over symbols that pulsed faintly, as if responding to his touch. Then, without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, curved knife.

"Give your hand."

A slow, uneasy chill crawled down my spine.

"...Why?"

"Blood binds the magic." His voice was calm. Certain.

North didn’t hesitate. He wanted this.

I forced myself to extend my hand.

The blade sliced clean, sharp enough that the pain barely registered before warmth blood across my palm. Dark drops spattered onto Mai’s shirt, soaking into the fabric like ink on paper. Dawson dragged his fingers through it, saring the blood in deliberate strokes as he murmured under his breath, eyes locked on the book.

Then—

The air changed.

Not just a breeze—sothing heavier, alive.

A sudden force wrapped around , invisible hands gripping at my clothes, tugging my hair. The lake’s surface rippled violently, light twisting in unnatural patterns.

I stumbled back. "What the hell is—"

Dawson laughed. Low. Knowing. Like he had expected this. Like he had been waiting for it.

And then, everything disappeared.

The lake. The trees. The night itself.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t there anymore.

A vast, endless hall stretched before , silent and empty. The air was choking—too thick—sitting on my chest like unseen hands squeezing the breath from my lungs.

No furniture. No doors. No windows.

Just —

And them.

Three figures.

Won.

They stood in perfect formation, their flowing black robes pooling around their feet like shadows co to life. Their faces were hidden beneath sheer veils, but I could feel their eyes—locked onto , unblinking, knowing.

Cold dread curled through my veins.

Sothing was very, very wrong.

One of them moved.

"Liam Rivers," she murmured, her voice smooth as silk, sharp as a blade.

A second stepped forward, her presence crackling like a gathering storm. "You have been marked."

The third tilted her head slightly, considering like a puzzle she already knew the answer to. "And now, you belong to us."

My blood turned to ice.

I took a slow step back, muscles coiled tight. "What the hell does that an?"

The first woman chuckled, the sound low and knowing. "You’ll find out soon enough."

Panic surged in my chest.

North? I reached for my wolf—

Nothing.

The silence was deafening.

Then, without warning, the first woman raised her hand—

And my world was swallowed by darkness.