Beneath the Alpha's Moon Chapter 226: First Night

Liam’s P.O.V.

"You’re absolutely not sleeping in the sa room as him."

Eldur’s voice was sharp, his eyes flashing with sothing between fury and desperation. He stood in front of Mai like so sort of overprotective guardian, his arms crossed over his chest.

Mai, however, was not having it.

"I can’t sleep without Liam," she stated, her tone final, as if that was the end of the discussion. She didn’t look at Eldur—her attention was solely on , eyes wide with that familiar intensity that made my heart clench.

"Mai..." I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "It’s just for a month. You’ll be fine."

Her expression darkened imdiately. "I won’t be fine, Liam." She stepped closer, her voice dropping, but I could hear the frustration, the fear, underneath. "I need you."

Ollie, sitting comfortably on the couch with his feet propped up, let out a dramatic whistle. "Well, this is getting spicy."

Eldur growled, his patience clearly wearing thin. "You can’t just decide you need him, Mai! This isn’t healthy."

She snapped her gaze to him, looking as if he had personally insulted her entire existence. "You don’t know anything about , Eldur."

"I know enough to realize you’re being ridiculous."

"And I know enough to realize you’re being an ass."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, already feeling a migraine forming. "Okay, okay, let’s just calm—"

"Don’t tell to calm down, Liam," Mai said imdiately.

Ollie grinned, looking at with amused sympathy. "Oof. Tough spot, buddy."

Eldur scoffed. "You’re really okay with this, Rivers? Her crawling into your bed every night?"

Mai turned to him with an offended glare. "I don’t crawl into his bed. I simply lay next to him."

Ollie snorted. "Simply."

Eldur let out a sound that was sowhere between a groan and a growl. "This is insane."

I put my hands up, trying to diate before Mai and Eldur actually killed each other. "Look, let’s be rational here. The only solution is that we all sleep in the sa room. That way, no one feels uncomfortable or left out."

Eldur stared at like I had just suggested we all jump into a volcano together. "You want to share a room with you two?"

Mai shrugged. "It’s not like we’re asking you to cuddle with us."

Ollie absolutely lost it at that.

I sighed. "Eldur, just... trust on this, okay? It’s only temporary."

After a long, painful silence, Eldur exhaled sharply. "Fine. But Mai sleeps on the bed, and we take the couches."

Mai huffed. "What if I don’t want the bed?"

"Then I’ll throw you onto it myself," Eldur shot back.

Ollie clutched his stomach, laughing. "This is better than a soap opera."

Mai turned on him, eyes blazing. "Do you want to be at the receiving end of my fury, Ollie?"

Ollie imdiately held up his hands. "Alright, alright. I’ll leave you three lovebirds to it." He smirked as he stood, heading toward the door. "Sweet dreams, lovebirds."

Mai grabbed a pillow from the couch and launched it at his head, but he was already gone.

Later that evening, dinner ti was the usual chaos. The pack’s dining hall was loud, filled with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of utensils against plates. Our little group sat together as we were ant to —Mai next to , Eldur across from her, looking grumpier than usual, and Ollie, who was still high off the drama from earlier.

As I picked at my food, Mai kept reaching over, piling more onto my plate. "Eat this. It’s good for you."

"Mai, I already have enough—"

"Try this too." Mai’s voice was soft but firm as she placed another bite of food onto my plate.

"Mai—"

"Liam, just eat it." She shot a look, daring to argue.

Ollie snorted. "Damn, Mai. You’re taking care of him like a perfect little mate."

I nearly choked on my drink. Mai’s cheeks flushed pink, but she didn’t deny it.

Eldur, however, wasn’t amused. He slamd his fork down, the sharp sound cutting through the quiet murmur of the adults’ conversation. "The goddess didn’t say Liam was her mate."

Ollie smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Oh? Jealous, Eldur?"

Eldur ignored him, his glare locked onto Mai. "Besides, Liam isn’t even eighteen yet. He wouldn’t know. And you don’t have a wolf to tell you if he’s your mate or not."

Mai stiffened, her fingers clenching around her fork. A flicker of hurt crossed her face before sothing fiercer took its place—anger.

"You’re a jerk, Eldur," she snapped, her voice sharp and strong. "I don’t need a wolf to tell if Liam is my mate or not. I can feel it in my heart."

My chest tightened. My pulse pounded so loudly I barely heard the quiet hum of the adults’ conversation around us. They weren’t paying attention—too caught up in their own discussions. It was like we existed in our own little world, one where Mai’s words were the only thing that mattered.

If she wasn’t my mate... what then?

How was I supposed to live without her?

I clenched my fists under the table, my heart a battlefield of hope and fear.

Please, Goddess.

Let her be mine.

Deep inside , North stirred, his voice a whisper in my mind.

"She has to be ours, Liam. I don’t think I can survive if she’s not."

Neither could I.

Dinner carried on around us, the pack was lost in their own world, laughing and talking about things that didn’t matter to . My world had shrunk down to Mai—to the way she looked at , to the unspoken promise in her eyes.

By the ti the al ended, the tension between us was still thick, but we didn’t speak of it. Not here. Not yet.

As we left the dining room, stepping out into the cool night air, heading back to our wing in mansion, I reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away.

The walk felt longer, heavier with everything unsaid between us.

And in my heart, I kept praying.

Because if fate wasn’t on our side...

I didn’t know what I would do.

***********

By the ti we made it back to the room, exhaustion clung to us like a second skin. The night settled in, quiet but heavy, wrapping around us like an old, familiar embrace.

We settled into our nightti routine, each of us slipping into the rhythm of exhaustion in our own way. Eldur and I took turns in the shower, rinsing off the weight of the day, while Mai claid the spare bathroom for herself. When she finally erged, she was swallowed up in one of my oversized shirts, the fabric hanging loose around her fra. Eldur, predictably, was still muttering about how we were all completely out of our minds, his grumbling only half-hearted now, more habit than actual protest. And ? I was just trying to pretend that this wasn’t the strangest sleeping arrangent I had ever found myself in.

One by one, they drifted off, their breathing evening out in the quiet of the night.

Except .

Sleep wasn’t rciful. The nightmares ca swiftly, like they’d been waiting in the shadows, coiled and ready to strike.

The witches—

Their laughter—sharp, cruel, unnatural.

Pain—searing, unbearable, stretching into eternity.

Helplessness—suffocating, drowning in its grip.

I tore out of sleep with a strangled gasp, my chest heaving in erratic shudders. The darkness pressed in around , thick and heavy, as if the nightmare had followed into the waking world. My hands trembled as I dragged them through my hair, grasping at sothing solid, sothing real—anything to anchor myself.

I couldn’t wake Mai. I wouldn’t. She didn’t need to see like this.

So I pressed my back against the couch, curling in on myself, forcing slow, even breaths.

Then—warmth.

Mai’s warmth.

Soft and steady, grounding without a word.

She moved without a word, slipping onto the couch and wrapping herself around from behind. Her arms, steady and sure, held together as her chin rested lightly on my shoulder.

A whisper, soft as a breath. "I’m here."

I swallowed hard, my body coiled tight—then, slowly, it unraveled.

She turned toward her, eyes searching mine, seeing straight through .

Then she kissed .

Soft. Warm. Steady.

A tremor ran through as my breath hitched, the nightmare dissolving like morning fog under the sun’s first light. Her hands, gentle yet firm, cupped my face—grounding , pulling back from the abyss. The chaos in my mind quieted, the ghosts retreating into the shadows.

With her, I wasn’t haunted. Not anymore.

Then we heard a sound. Fragile. Fractured. A sob, barely there, but enough to crack through the mont.

We both went still, heads turning toward the other couch.

Eldur.

My chest tightened. I had never—never—seen him cry.

Mai shifted beside , her voice hushed, careful. "Eldur?"

He turned away, his face hidden in the dim light. His voice, when it ca, was thick—weighted with sothing raw, sothing jagged. "Just go back to sleep."

Mai hesitated, her hand reaching out but stopping just short. "You’re not alone, you know."

Silence stretched between us, long and heavy.

Then, so quiet it was almost swallowed by the dark, he whispered—

"Yes, I am."