Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 200: The Enemy Within

Chapter 200: The Enemy Within

Mai’s P.O.V.

"Mai." My father’s voice was firm, steady—a command wrapped in quiet authority. "You must calm down."

I stood there, chest heaving, my nails biting into my palms as I clenched my fists. The whispers in my head slithered through my mind like venomous snakes, hissing, laughing, taunting. I wanted to scream, to tear at the earth beneath me until I found Liam, until I had him back where he belonged—next to me.

But then, I felt it—my father’s hand on my shoulder. It wasn’t soft or gentle; it was grounding. A reminder.

"Do not lose control," he said, his voice low but laced with a warning. "You know what happens when you do."

I swallowed hard, forcing down the rage that boiled in my veins, and nodded.

My father turned to the gathered werewolves, their faces a mixture of fear and curiosity. "Everyone, go home," he ordered. "This is a very serious matter, and I will handle it with just as much seriousness."

Murmurs spread through the crowd, but no one dared challenge him. Not when he had that sharp, commanding look in his eyes—the kind that promised consequences.

"And remember," he continued, his voice carrying through the night, "be watchful. Be alert. If anything—anything—seems out of place, report it immediately."

With that, the pack began to disperse. I stood motionless, watching them leave, their steps hesitant, their whispers still hanging in the air like a fog.

I felt my mother’s hand slide into mine. Warm. Comforting. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

"Come inside, sweetheart," she murmured, pulling me gently toward the house.

I let her guide me, my limbs heavy as if I were dragging chains behind me. I didn’t dare look at Liam’s parents, who stood frozen in the yard, grief etched into their tired faces.

My fathers approached them. I could hear Papa Adrian’s voice, raw with emotion. "We will not rest until we bring him home to you."

Dad nodded solemnly. "I swear it."

Liam’s mother clutched at his father’s arm, her face twisted in agony. "He’s just a boy," she whispered. "He’s my boy."

"You need to rest," Dad pleaded. "You’ve been searching for days. You’re exhausted. Let us handle this."

There was a long silence before Liam’s father exhaled shakily and nodded. "Alright," he said, his voice clouded with held in tears. "Alright."

I couldn’t stand it. The pain in their voices. The guilt that clawed at my insides.

I turned away and hurried up the stairs, ignoring my name as it was called behind me.

I didn’t deserve their concern.

This was all my fault.

I stormed into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me and locking it with a flick of my wrist. The lock clicked into place—a flimsy barrier between me and the world outside, but at least it was something.

My legs moved on their own, carrying me straight to the vanity mirror across the room. I dropped into the cushioned chair, my hands bracing against the cool wooden surface as I leaned in, my breath ghosting over the glass.

"Liam."

His name was a whisper, barely audible, but the mirror should have responded. It should have rippled, the surface shifting like water, revealing his face—wherever he was. That’s how it had always worked. Whether someone was across town or on the other side of the world, the mirror always showed them to me.

But this time...

Nothing.

The surface remained dark. Ominous. Empty.

A cold weight settled in my stomach.

No.

I lifted a trembling hand and traced my fingers along the frame, willing the magic to work.

Show me, I pleaded silently.

But just like the past four days, the mirror remained black.

Not a flicker. Not even a blur of movement.

Just. Darkness.

The wrongness of it clawed at my skin, slithering down my spine like ice. The mirror had no range limits. No restrictions. So why?

Why wasn’t it working?

Then, the whispers returned.

They slithered into my mind like smoke, wrapping around my thoughts, sinking their claws into every doubt I had buried deep.

"There is no escape now."

"He’s gone."

"And it’s your fault."

A sickening wave of laughter followed, curling around my ears like a lover’s touch. It was cruel. Mocking.

I gritted my teeth, pressing my palms hard against my temples. "Shut up."

But they didn’t.

They never did.

The laughter only grew louder, spilling into every corner of my mind, drowning out rational thought, filling the silence with something dark and twisted.

And so, I did the only thing I could.

I kept working.

For three days, I locked myself in my room.

No eating. No sleeping. Just trying—desperately—to reach him.

My family tried everything to get me out. First, the knocking. Soft at first, hesitant. Then urgent.

"Mai, sweetheart, please come out," my father’s voice drifted through the door, tight with worry.

I ignored it.

Then the begging. Ollie. Elizabeth. Uncle Rylan. Even Eldur.

"Mai, just for a second," Elizabeth tried. "You don’t have to talk. Just... let us see you."

I kept working.

Then the threats.

Even Auntie Juliette—who never let anything faze her—sounded on the edge of losing it. "Mai, I swear to the Moon, if you don’t open this damn door—"

Still, I didn’t move.

Until my mother came.

Her voice was calm. Too calm.

"I am done playing, Mai," she said through the door. "If you do not open this door right now, I will tear it off its hinges."

A flicker of something sharp cut through my haze.

Luna Teresa Blackwood didn’t make empty threats.

The whispers in my head purred in amusement.

Still, I didn’t move.

And then, the air changed.

The entire house seemed to breathe as power swelled just beyond my door.

The wood groaned. A deep, shuddering crack splintered through the silence.

The door shook violently. Another crack. Then another.

I clenched my jaw and turned my focus back to the mirror, pouring every ounce of magic I had left into it.

Work, damn it.

Then it happened

BOOM.

The door exploded.

Shards of wood shot in all directions, embedding themselves into the walls and furniture. Dust filled the air in thick, swirling clouds.

And standing in the center of it all—power rolling off her in waves, golden eyes burning with barely contained fury—was my mother.

She stormed in, gaze sweeping over the wreckage before landing on me. Her expression shifted from anger to panic in a heartbeat.

"Mai."

Her voice wasn’t cold anymore. It cracked at the edges, something raw seeping through.

Before I could react, she crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed me.

Her hands, warm and firm, cupped my face.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why would you lock yourself in here like this? Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?"

Before I could form a response, more footsteps thundered into the room.

My Dad. Papa. Ollie. Auntie Juliette. Elizabeth. Eldur. Uncle Ryan.

They all stood there, staring at me with varying degrees of worry, frustration, and relief.

But I wasn’t looking at them anymore.

Because the whispers were back.

And they were laughing.

My breath hitched. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the laughter didn’t stop.

"Open your eyes."

I stiffened.

No.

I refused to listen.

"Open your eyes, Mai."

I dug my nails into my palms, trying to drown them out.

"Open. Your eyes."

And against my better judgment, I did.

My eyes opened and looked at everybody. My family.

And then the whispers said, "Look at him, Eldur."

He stood off to the side, watching everything with an unimpressed expression.

And the whispers howled in delight.

"Why do you think the mirrors aren’t working?"

My pulse stopped.

A single breath of silence.

Then, the realization crashed into me like a tidal wave.

The lake. Liam. Eldur.

He couldn’t have just disappeared. Not that fast. Even if someone had taken him, there would have been something. A scent. A struggle. A sign.

But there was nothing.

And Eldur. He never tried to find Liam.

He never wanted me to look for him.

Every time I tried, he stopped me. Distracted me.

The laughter in my head grew deafening.

"He took Liam."

My body went rigid.

"Kill him."

I turned to face Eldur fully now, my breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts.

And then, my voice—raw and trembling with fury—ripped through the room.

"You!"

Everyone flinched.

But I didn’t care. I took a step forward, my entire body trembling. "You did this," I snarled. "You took Liam away from me!"

There was silence. The air was so thick, so heavy, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.

And then, Eldur smirked. A slow, calculated smirk.

"I was starting to think you’d never figure it out," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

A collective gasp rippled through the room.

Someone cursed under their breath.

My mother’s grip on me tightened.

But I barely noticed.

Because all I could see was red.

"Kill him!"

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