Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 180: The Obsession I Can’t Escape

Chapter 180: The Obsession I Can’t Escape

Mai’s P.O.V.

I wasn’t sure when it started.

Maybe it was the moment he walked back into school, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for another hit that never came. Maybe it was when I saw the burn scars creeping up his forehead, a permanent reminder of the worst thing I had ever done. Or maybe, just maybe, it had always been there—this strange, maddening pull toward Liam Rivers.

Either way, it was driving me insane.

And apparently, I wasn’t the only one losing my mind today.

"You’re using your magic for bad again, aren’t you?" Elizabeth snapped, her dark eyes sharp with accusation. She stood in my bedroom, arms crossed, her whole posture screaming disapproval. "Mai, you can’t keep doing this."

I rolled my eyes, tossing a book onto my bed. "Oh, please. What’s the point of having magic if I can’t have a little fun with it?"

"Fun?" She scoffed. "Scaring people half to death is fun to you?"

"It is when they deserve it."

Elizabeth groaned, rubbing her temples like she was seconds away from strangling me. "You’re impossible."

"I know." I smirked.

"You’re also wicked."

"Obviously."

Elizabeth let out a long breath, then pointed a warning finger at me. "One day, you’re going to regret this, Mai."

"Doubt it."

She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. I hated when Elizabeth got like that—so self-righteous, like she was better than me just because she refused to use magic for anything interesting. If anything, she was the one wasting her potential.

Annoyed, I grabbed my leather jacket and left the house, heading for the only place that ever gave me peace—the forest.

The moment I stepped into the thick of the trees, the scent of fresh pine filled my lungs, calming me instantly. The crunch of leaves beneath my boots was the only sound I allowed myself to focus on, drowning out my frustration.

Until I saw them.

Two wolves, golden fur glistening in the afternoon sunlight, rolling and snapping at each other in playful excitement. They were young, around my age, their movements fluid and unburdened by hesitation. They weren’t just playing.

They were bonded.

Mates.

A sick, burning anger twisted in my chest.

I had never shifted. Not once. Not like my brother, Ollie, who had shifted for the first time at fifteen, beaming with pride as my parents praised him. Not like every other werewolf who got to experience the thrill of running through the woods in their true form.

No. I was different. Broken.

I wasn’t even sure I had a wolf inside me.

And if I didn’t have a wolf... how could I ever have a mate?

My mother tried to soothe me with her soft reassurances. "You don’t need a wolf to have a mate, Mai. I never had one, and I still found your father."

But what if she was just... lucky? What if I wasn’t?

I clenched my fists as I watched the two wolves nuzzle each other, their affection sickeningly sweet.

And then... an idea formed.

I lifted my hand and whispered an incantation under my breath.

The wind howled.

The trees groaned.

Shadows slithered along the forest floor like living creatures, stretching toward the unsuspecting wolves.

They didn’t notice at first.

Then, suddenly, the shadows grabbed them.

The male wolf yelped, struggling as the darkness wrapped around his limbs, pinning him to the ground. The female let out a high-pitched whimper, her body convulsing as her golden fur began to darken—no, rot.

Patches of her fur fell off in clumps, exposing raw, searing flesh beneath. She screamed, writhing in agony as if her body was rejecting itself.

The male thrashed wildly, eyes wide with terror as the shadows crawled up his throat, choking him without ever touching his skin. He opened his mouth to howl—

Nothing came out.

His voice was gone.

Just stolen.

The female managed to shift back into her human form, sobbing as she clutched at her now-balding scalp. The male followed, his hands shaking as he touched his throat in horror.

Then, like frightened children, they ran.

Tears streaming.

Bodies trembling.

Too scared to ever shift again.

And I... I smiled.

That’s what they got for flaunting their happiness in my face when I wasn’t happy.

That night, I found myself where I always ended up when my mind wouldn’t let me rest—perched on a tree branch right outside Liam Rivers’ bedroom window.

He was sitting on his bed, absorbed in a book, completely unaware of my presence. His blond hair fell into his eyes as he flipped a page, his brows furrowing in concentration.

I exhaled slowly.

Why did looking at him make me feel good?

Liam Rivers hated me. He had every right to. And yet, every time I was around him, my chest felt... lighter.

Like I wasn’t completely drowning.

I leaned against the trunk of the tree, watching the way his lips parted slightly when he was deep in thought. He still avoided people, still kept his head down. But no one messed with him anymore.

Because I had made sure of it.

I remembered the day Liam returned to school—the way my heart pounded the moment he stepped into our classroom. I didn’t show it, but inside, I was buzzing with something I couldn’t name. Excitement? Curiosity? Obsession? Maybe all of it.

And then lunchtime came.

And Philip made a grave mistake.

I could still see it—the way Phillip and his friends had stood in the cafeteria, smirking as they dumped tomato sauce and spaghetti all over Liam. The thick, red mess dripped from his hair, staining his clothes, pooling at his feet.

Laughter erupted around him, cruel and unrelenting, while he just stood there, fists clenched, face burning with humiliation.

And me?

I had done nothing.

I sat there, pretending I didn’t care. Pretending it didn’t matter.

But that night, I made sure they paid for it.

One by one, I dragged them from their beds, my magic pulling them through the air like puppets on invisible strings. In the blink of an eye, they were no longer safe in their rooms but deep in the forest, surrounded by nothing but darkness and the sound of their own ragged breathing.

Then I lifted them.

Higher.

Higher.

Their screams tore through the night, desperate, terrified.

I didn’t speak in my own voice—it was something else, something colder, something that slithered into their bones and made them believe.

They had no idea who I was.

But when I whispered that I would drop them from the sky unless they crawled to Liam and begged for his forgiveness, they didn’t hesitate.

By morning, every single one of them had apologized.

And now?

No one dared to touch him.

And Liam had no idea why.

I let my head rest against the tree trunk, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the rough bark as my thoughts drifted back to my last conversation with Eldur.

"I can’t stop thinking about him." The words had barely left my lips when his reflection in the mirror sharpened, his amusement flickering into something more serious.

"Thinking about who?" he asked, his tone light, almost teasing. "Me?"

Not in the mood for his games, I exhaled sharply. "Liam Rivers."

Just like that, the humor in his face vanished, replaced by something darker—anger, confusion, disbelief.

"Are you talking about the same Liam we burned when we were kids?" His voice was sharper now, like he needed me to confirm something impossible.

"Yes, Eldur. The same one." I paused, feeling the weight of my next words. "Ever since he came back, I’ve made it my business to know everything about him. I watch him. I follow him. I don’t know what’s wrong with me."

I had expected him to help me make sense of it, to offer some insight or at least tell me I wasn’t losing my mind. But instead, his expression twisted, his jaw tightening as he said the one thing I hadn’t been prepared to hear.

"Stop watching him."

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.

My fingers curled into a fist. "I don’t want to."

"Mai—" he started, his voice laced with something dangerously close to desperation.

"You can’t stop me." My voice was steady, but I could feel the heat rising in my chest, the tension coiling in my limbs.

Then, without another word, I severed the connection.

And just like that, silence.

I hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now, perched high in the tree outside Liam’s bedroom window, I watched as the glow from his bedside lamp cast shadows across his face. His blond hair fell over his forehead as he turned a page in his book, oblivious to the fact that I was up here, completely and utterly fixated on him.

I should leave. I should stop.

But I didn’t.

Because no matter how much I tried to push it down, this strange, unshakable obsession wasn’t fading.

And the worst part?

I had no idea what to do about it.

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