The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 426

Chapter 426: Meredith Claps Back
[Third Person].

Meredith’s eyes glimmered coldly in the dim corridor light. “Who am I?” she repeated softly.

Then she turned fully toward Wanda, her voice steady and regal.

“I am Meredith Carter, daughter of Beta Gabriel Carter from the Moonstone Pack, now wife and mate to Draven Oatrun, Luna of the Mystic Furs Pack.”

Wanda’s chest heaved, but before she could respond, Meredith leaned closer, her lips brushing the air beside her ear as she deliberately whispered calmly,

“And the future Queen of our people, and of you.”

Hearing that ugly reminder, Wanda’s fingers trembled around Meredith’s wrist.

Then, from the corner of her eye, Meredith caught the faint movement of someone approaching.

She quickly straightened just as Wanda’s fury snapped. Wanda’s right hand lifted in blind rage, ready to strike.

But the sharp, commanding voice that cut through the corridor froze her mid-motion.

“What is it that you are trying to do, Miss Fellowes?” The deep timbre rolled down the hallway like thunder.

Meredith glanced past Wanda’s shoulder to see the tall figure standing several steps away, his presence calm yet unyielding. Oscar Elrod.

Just then, Wanda slowly turned to see him, and her heart gave a violent jolt instantly. Blood drained from her face, but she forced a smile, lowering her hand quickly and releasing Meredith’s wrist.

“Oscar,” she said lightly, her tone suddenly soft and honeyed. “You startled me. I was only—” she reached for a nervous laugh “—patting down her hair. As you might not have known, Meredith and I got very close while in Duskmoor.”

Oscar’s face didn’t move. The unreadable calm in his eyes made the lie hang heavier in the air.

He gave no sign of believing her.

“Be mindful of your surroundings, Miss Fellowes,” he said at last, his voice even, but carrying the quiet weight of authority. Then, after a pause, “And address me properly.”

Wanda’s throat worked. She forced another small, demure smile. “Of course… Lord Elrod.”

Oscar inclined his head faintly but didn’t move. For a moment, silence reigned again, taut as wire.

Meredith stood composed, watching him. She could see it clearly—he knew what had just happened, yet he chose to overlook it. Still, in that calculated restraint, he had protected her.

Her gaze softened slightly as she inclined her head. Oscar met her eyes for a moment, then she exhaled softly and turned, signalling the end of the exchange before walking away, her footsteps fading along the hall.

Behind her, Wanda’s fists trembled at her sides. And somewhere in the echo of Meredith’s fading steps, her envy festered deeper, darker—until it no longer felt like jealousy, but hunger.

For a moment, Oscar said nothing. His gaze was steady and unreadable until his voice broke the stillness.

“You need to know your place, Miss Fellowes.”

The words struck cleanly, without inflexion.

Wanda let out a short, sharp scoff and turned her head to glare at him.

“Just now, you knew what I was about to do,” she said bitterly. “You knew exactly what happened, yet you pretended not to care.”

Oscar’s expression didn’t change. “And yet, I stopped you,” he replied evenly.

Wanda took two steps toward him, her eyes blazing with restrained fury. “All of you—Draven, Dennis, Jeffery—you ignored me tonight. Treated me like I was invisible. Is that fair, Lord Elrod?”

Her voice cracked faintly as she went on, “After everything I’ve done—after how loyal I’ve been—this is how I’m treated? What happened to our friendship from childhood?”

At that word, ‘loyal’, Oscar’s face hardened, the warmth draining from his tone.

“Loyal?” His voice cut like steel. “Your loyalty is questionable, Wanda. You call yourself faithful to Draven, yet you betrayed him. And then you talk about friendship, like you’ve ever seen any of us as your true friend.”

Wanda flinched slightly, her anger faltering.

“You are an outsider,” he continued, each word deliberate. “And the least you could have done was behave yourself until the end.”

Wanda’s chest rose sharply. “I just made a small mistake,” she said, voice trembling between rage and desperation. “A mistake I’ve already regretted—yet you all want to crucify me for it.”

Oscar’s eyes flickered with quiet disdain. “Regret,” he said flatly, “isn’t enough.” Then, lowering his tone to something cold and weighty, he added, “What matters is whether you have repented. Have you?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Wanda didn’t answer. Oscar exhaled softly, the faintest scoff escaping him. Then he turned to leave.

But Wanda’s voice, sharp and bitter, stopped him mid-step. “I can see clearly that you don’t even like that wolfless woman,” she said. “So why interfere in my private business?”

He paused with his back still to her. “If you were still as clever as you once were,” he said quietly, “you would be thanking me.”

Wanda blinked, her anger faltering for just half a heartbeat.

Oscar’s next statement dropped like a blade. “Because if I hadn’t interfered, not only Draven—but half the Council—would have ordered your hand cut off.”

Then, without another glance, he walked away down the corridor, his footsteps steady, unhurried, but final.

Wanda stood frozen for several seconds, her pulse drumming in her ears. Then, slowly, she bit her lower lip hard enough to draw a trace of blood.

Her gaze turned dark, almost hollow as her thoughts spiralled. ‘What is Meredith worth that even men like Oscar would protect her?’

The question burned, twisting into something poisonous.

If she didn’t act soon, she knew exactly what would happen. Meredith’s cursed name would be forgotten.

The whispers would fade. And the Elders would start seeing her as no longer a disgrace, but as Draven’s true Luna, and their future Queen.

And Wanda couldn’t let that happen.

—

Back in the hall, Draven stood beside his father and the delegate from the royal palace.

“His Majesty sends his personal gratitude, Alpha Draven,” Lord Cairne said with a dignified nod.

“Your leadership in Duskmoor has not gone unnoticed. Though the King regrets his inability to attend in person, he wishes to see you once you’ve rested enough. He would have your report from your own mouth.”

Draven’s expression remained composed, his posture straight yet relaxed. “Please extend my respects to His Majesty,” he replied. “I will pay him a visit once the formalities here are settled.”

Lord Cairne smiled faintly, satisfied. “I will relay your words to the King. May your return mark a new beginning for all of Stormveil.”

Draven inclined his head politely. “Let’s hope it does.”

As the delegate stepped away to rejoin a cluster of elders, Randall placed a steadying hand on his son’s shoulder.

“A good impression,” he murmured. “A fine way to end the night.”

Draven’s eyes flicked briefly toward him, unreadable. “I wasn’t trying to impress,” he said simply. “I was only doing what’s necessary.”

Randall’s mouth curved faintly—pride, thinly veiled beneath his stoicism. “Still, you did well.”