The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 287

287: Treading Carefully 287: Treading Carefully Draven.

By the time I stepped into the dining hall, the familiar hum of servants quieted into near silence.

My gaze immediately found Meredith at the long table.

Then almost immediately, all heads turned to my direction.

One by one, they all stood, their chairs scraping backwards.

But before they could verbally acknowledge my presence, I gestured for them to settle down.

And they did.

I returned my gaze at Meredith.

She sat straight-backed in her chair, her silver hair pinned neatly into an elaborate updo, her hands folded close to her plate as though she were guarding herself.

To anyone else, she looked composed-serene, even.

But I had known her long enough now to notice the subtle tells: the stiffness of her shoulders, the faint shadow in her eyes that hadn’t been there last night.

Rhovan stirred in the back of my mind, a low rumble threading through me.

“It seems like our mate is embittered.” My jaw flexed, ready to order punishments.

“Embittered?

Toward whom?| Rhovan’s growl was sharper this time, tinged with regret.

“Unfortunately, her anger is directed at you.” “Me?

How?” I frowned, pulling out my chair, my thoughts replaying the memory of this morning.

I remembered the soft weight of her in my arms, her lips brushing against my cheek before she slipped back to her own chambers.

Nothing about that moment had suggested anger.

If anything, it had been the most peace I had felt between us in weeks.

“What did I do wrong now?” I asked, but Rhovan gave me nothing but silence, as if waiting for me to unravel the puzzle myself.

I picked up my fork, cutting slowly into the eggs on my plate.

The sound of silver against porcelain filled the pause.

Then, deliberately, I transferred a neat portion onto her plate.

She blinked, her lashes lowering for the briefest second, her gaze resting on the golden yolk.

The pause stretched long enough for me to hold my breath.

And then, with measured grace, she lifted her fork and speared the bite of egg, bringing it to her lips without a word.

I leaned back slightly, watching her chew with her unreadable expression and deliberate silence.

Rhovan’s low chuckle slid through me.

“You see now.

She is angry.

She ate what you gave her and didn’t offer her usual ‘thanks’.

I hope you got the message now?” I exhaled slowly through my nose, pushing my chair back just enough to settle into thought.

Meredith could wield silence like a blade sharper than any dagger.

She was very good at that.

But unfortunately, I’ve never been good handling it.

If she had been furious enough to confront me, she would have raised her voice.

Instead, she chose this quiet distance.

Which meant she was waiting for me.

I released a deep breath and reached for the breadbasket next and broke off a slice.

Then my hand brushed the butter knife, but instead of preparing it for myself, I slid the plate gently toward her side.

She looked at it briefly, her purple eyes flickering toward me for just a heartbeat before she reached out with the same composure and lifted the bread without a word.

Again, there was no ‘thanks’ or any sign of softness.

Just the clean, cutting silence of deliberate restraint.

I clenched my jaw, irritation sparking but quickly swallowed.

I would not show impatience.

Instead, I tried once more, reaching for the fruit platter.

I set a small cluster of grapes onto her plate.

This time, her fork hovered over them longer, her fingers tightening just slightly on the silverware before she finally picked one, placed it into her mouth, and chewed with a stillness that looked almost defiant.

Rhovan’s voice came low, almost like a warning.

“Her anger is not mild, Draven.

You must tread carefully.” “I know,” I muttered inwardly, though confusion gnawed at me.

What could have changed so swiftly between the warmth of last night and this wall of ice before me now?

I let my gaze linger on Meredith’s face and saw the faint pull at the corner of her mouth that betrayed how much she was holding back.

I dragged in a slow breath and looked away before I betrayed myself with questions I was not yet ready to ask in front of watching eyes.

Fine.

If my wife had chosen silence, then I would respect it for now.

But I would not leave this unaddressed.

‘As soon as breakfast is over,’ I promised myself, my hand curling lightly around the stem of my glass.

‘I will have her alone and find out how I had offended her.’ “Sister,” Mabel drawled with the same self-satisfied smirk she always wore in Meredith’s presence.

“It seems like you are not in a good mood.” I felt Meredith’s stillness sharpen beside me.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze, her purple eyes narrowing as they locked onto her sister.

And for a long moment, she said nothing.

Annoyance burned through me like fire licking against steel.

Mabel’s audacity was insufferable.

If not for the fragile thread of blood they shared, I would have had her flogged long ago for the disrespect she so freely displayed.

“She tests my patience,” I muttered inwardly.

Rhovan’s growl was approvingly dark.

“Then break her if our mate doesn’t.

There is an undertaking after all, signed by their father.” I hadn’t forgotten about the important evidence still under my care, but all I was thinking right now, was how best to humiliate Mabel into silence when Meredith’s voice cut cleanly through the air.

“Wanda’s car is just two hours away,” she said softly, her tone as calm as ice.

“One phone call is all that is needed.

Their car will stop and wait for you to join them.” The smirk on Mabel’s face crumbled instantly, her lips parting, eyes wide in sudden shock.

I felt nothing but satisfaction, watching her composure collapse.

I smirked and leaned back slightly, allowing a low chuckle to rumble in my chest.

Pride warmed me at Meredith’s precise, merciless strike.

She had silenced her sister with nothing more than a simple threat.

“That’s my queen,” I thought to myself as I forced back a smile.

Rhovan rumbled in approval.

“That brat needs no whip.

Our mate’s words are weapon enough.