The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 415

Chapter 415: Playing Tricks on Him
[Meredith]

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering, but before I could answer, Draven turned away with a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come,” he said again, as if nothing had happened. “You need to have a breather before breakfast.”

And just like that, he was walking down the hall again, leaving me to gather what was left of my composure before following him.

Draven’s pace slowed as we reached the end of the corridor. When he opened the double doors, I froze for a heartbeat.

The room beyond was enormous, spanning the length of what could have been two smaller chambers combined.

Light spilt in through tall windows, glinting off polished stone and dark oak furnishings.

The bed, centred against the far wall, was large enough for three people to sleep without touching.

“This is where you sleep?” I asked, my voice half curious, half incredulous.

Draven gave a short hum in response as he stuffed his hands inside his pants pockets.

I wandered further in, taking it all in—the carved posts of the bed, the pale linen sheets, the dark furs draped at its edge. The quiet elegance of it all.

It was so him. Clean. Controlled. Expansive. And yet, so empty.

I turned back towards him, one brow raised. “Tell me,” I said, trying to hide the amusement in my voice, “how is it that only you sleep on such a large bed? Don’t you ever feel… cold?”

Draven paused. Then he looked up at me, a faint glimmer in his eyes that warned me he had caught the teasing in my tone.

The next moment, he crossed the distance between us slowly, his steps deliberate. When he reached me, his hand slid gently to my waist.

“Not in the past,” he said quietly, the warmth of his breath brushing against my ear. “But now that I have you, it’s possible to freeze to death sleeping all alone on it.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. It was soft, surprised, and genuine.

“You can’t be serious,” I said, though my voice came out lighter than I intended.

He tilted his head, his lips curving faintly. “I am.”

Then his hand moved slightly, his thumb tracing a circle against my side as he leaned in closer. The distance between us all but vanished; his intent was unmistakable.

But before his lips could touch mine, I stepped back quickly.

“Not now,” I said, shaking my head. “I need a shower first.”

His brows rose slightly, the faintest amusement crossing his face. “A shower?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “A long one. I want to wash away everything—the dirt, the blood, the smell of Duskmoor.”

Something flickered in his gaze at the mention of that name, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he reached out and brushed his fingers against my jaw, a quiet acknowledgement before he turned away and gestured toward a door at the far end of the room.

“This way,” he said.

I followed him through a short passage until we reached the bathing chambers. The door opened into a wide space of smooth stone and silver fixtures, the air faintly perfumed with the scent of herbs and warm steam.

The bath was already filling, the sound of running water echoing softly off the walls.

Draven glanced back at me. “Before you are done,” he said, “the servants will have finished bringing our things up from the convoy. Clothes, jewellery, everything we brought from Duskmoor. They will arrange them in the dressing room.”

I nodded, my chest tightening slightly at the word our.

He lingered a moment longer, his gaze softening before he turned toward the door.

When he left, the quiet returned, filled only by the sound of the water spilling into the bath.

I felt the weight of exhaustion sink into my bones. I untied my cloak, let it fall to the floor, and breathed in deeply—trying to remember what peace was supposed to feel like.

Then, I sank slowly into the bath, letting the water embrace me until it reached my shoulders. The heat worked its way through the knots in my body, easing tension I hadn’t realized I still carried.

I closed my eyes, leaning back against the edge of the bath. But peace had a way of stirring what I would rather forget.

My family.

Sooner or later, word would reach them that I had returned. I could almost see their faces now—their disdain, cold politeness, and that perfect, smug smiles of my sisters.

I inhaled deeply, exhaled, and forced the thoughts of them into quiet.

Though their opinions no longer mattered to me, I would rather not set my eyes on them.

Just then, the sound of faint movement caught my attention. Beyond the bath chamber, I heard muted footsteps and the soft clatter of hangers.

The servants, no doubt, are arranging our belongings in the adjoining dressing room.

Their voices carried faintly through the door.

“…He brought her here himself. Straight to the top floor.”

“I didn’t believe it until I saw them walking in—holding hands.”

“So, the Alpha’s truly accepted her, then?”

“I would say so otherwise. How can we explain these changes?”

I blinked at the words, letting them settle. There was no mockery this time—no open derision, no cruel gossip. Only cautious wonder, as if they were all trying to adjust to something they had never imagined possible.

I listened a moment longer before taking my ears off their whispers.

Time slipped by unnoticed. Then came a soft knock at the door, followed by Draven’s voice.

“Meredith?”

I turned my head slightly, smiling despite myself. “Yes?”

There was a slight pause, then his warm, teasing tone, “Are you alright in there? The servants have finished their work and left already. You’ve been in there a long while now.”

I laughed quietly. “Maybe I needed it.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. “In that case, I should come in and have my bath too.”

My eyes widened, and an amused smirk tugged at my lips. “Come in, then,” I said.

There was a beat of silence—then the faint sound of the door handle turning, but nothing happened after that.

Then Draven’s voice came again, mockingly suspicious. “You locked the door.”

I bit back a laugh. “Did I?”

“Don’t play tricks on me, Meredith.”

“Maybe it’s stuck,” I offered, feigning innocence.

He huffed—a quiet, amused sound that made warmth bloom in my chest.

“Give me a second,” I said, smiling to myself.

I stood, water cascading down my skin as I reached for the towel beside the bath.

The air was cool against my damp skin, goosebumps rising along my arms as I dried my hair and wrapped the towel securely around me.

Then I slipped into a soft bathrobe and tied the ropes at my waist.

When I opened the door, Draven was just outside with folded arms and an amused look on his face.

Then, his gaze shifted, sweeping over me once—from the damp strands of hair that clung to my shoulders to the faint flush still warming my cheeks.

I met his eyes, following the slow, assessing movement of his gaze before arching a brow. “Are you going to keep staring, Alpha?”

The corner of his mouth curved. “If you keep looking like that, I just might.”

I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t move away when he reached for me.