Beneath the Alpha's Moon

Mai’s P.O.V.

If someone had told me years ago that this would be my reality—wrapped in Liam’s arms, limbs tangled like ivy, sunlight pouring through lace curtains in our house—I would’ve laughed in their face and probably flashed a bit of fang. Not because I didn’t crave it, but because it felt like some fairytale I wasn’t meant to star in. Back then, love felt like a language I wasn’t allowed to speak, especially not with the boy I’d once burned—literally and figuratively.

But here we were. Not broken. Not dreaming. Just... real. Whole. Unapologetically happy.

A year since our mating ceremony, and somehow, I was living the dream—with the boy who once ran from my shadow and now runs his fingers through my hair like I’m the safest place he’s ever known.

"Did we die?" Liam murmured beside me, his voice thick with sleep and something sweeter—peace.

I smiled, running my fingers through his messy blond hair, brushing it away from the burn scars that no longer made him flinch when I touched them. "If we’re dead, then this is the best afterlife I could ask for."

He looked up at me, those impossibly blue eyes shining. "Then I hope we never wake up."

My heart did a little dance in my chest. I kissed his forehead. "You’re so dramatic, Rivers."

"Pot meet kettle, Blackwood."

We both laughed.

Our laughter barely settled when the door to our room burst open.