The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 441

Chapter 441: I Barely Held Myself Still
[Meredith].

Draven’s gaze stayed fixed on me, unreadable and far too perceptive.

“Why does your grandmother want to see you on such an auspicious day?” he asked.

That question was too close to the mark. However, I forced a small shrug. “I don’t know.”

And for once, it wasn’t a lie.

I had guesses, guesses tied to the Lunar Curse, to my wolf, to things my grandmother had hinted at for years. But I couldn’t say any of that, not when I had no idea how much she wanted me to reveal.

Draven didn’t respond. He simply nodded, slow and faintly knowing, as if my answer had confirmed something for him rather than hidden it.

The silence stretched too long, so I exhaled and spoke more formally, “I will be going to see her in five days.”

His eyes flickered. “Where does she live?”

“The outskirts of the Moonstone pack.”

“And why there—” Then he stopped himself, nodding as if the answer clicked into place.

“Right. You said she values her privacy.”

Relief loosened something tight in my chest. But then, he spoke again.

“Of course you can visit her,” he said with a soft smile. “But I will come with you.”

My heart lurched at his second statement. I straightened instinctively. “No— I mean… it’s not necessary.”

My excuse was useless.

Draven’s brows lifted. “How can I allow my mate—my queen, to travel that far alone?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, as irritation and panic tangled together. Still, I tried again.

“She doesn’t know you,” I insisted. “She will be uncomfortable with you appearing unannounced.”

Draven didn’t even flinch. “I married you without meeting her once,” he replied. “It is long overdue that I greet the woman who raised my mate.”

I shook my head quickly. “Another time—”

“No,” he said simply warmly, and immovably. “But if you feel she will be uncomfortable, then send her a letter. Tell her I will be accompanying you.”

I blinked at his statement which I found too blatant. But the next second, I understood that this could be a test.

Because what kind of woman asks permission from her grandmother before bringing her own husband? Unless she had something to hide.

I refused to fall for it. “There’s no need for that,” I said firmly.

Draven smirked—the kind of knowing smirk that made me want to wrap myself in iron and shield every secret I had.

“Don’t be mad,” he murmured.

“I’m not,” I said instantly.

Then, he stepped closer, reached out, and pinched my nose lightly before I could dodge.

I scowled and swatted at his hand, but he withdrew before I could touch him.

“See?” he said, his eyes warm, amused. “I was right. You are mad.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, even though the corner of my mouth betrayed me with the faintest twitch.

And Draven’s smirk deepened because he knew he had caught me. But a moment later, his voice came out soft.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he murmured. A quiet sigh escaped him as he looked away, his jaw tightening for the briefest second.

“I have a feeling your grandmother is already mad at me. Especially for the way I forced you into marriage.”

I rolled my eyes at him before I could stop myself. “Well, at least you know where you were wrong. And you’re willing to admit it.”

He turned his gaze back to me immediately, that slow, infuriatingly boyish smile spreading across his lips.

“But the good thing,” he said, “is that we are mates. So I think she will forgive me easily.”

I watched him closely. That smile was genuine and warm, almost excited, even.

He wasn’t angry that I had been hiding things from him. He wasn’t even offended.

On any typical day, this conversation should have escalated into an argument or, at the very least, his stoic coldness.

Instead, he had chosen peace, gentleness. And I knew why.

Draven truly loves me.

Maybe this was what a healthy bond looked like, not turning every tension into a battlefield.

I exhaled a small laugh. “Keep dreaming. You will be surprised by how my grandmother punishes you. She won’t care whether you are an Alpha or the future king.”

Draven shrugged with complete seriousness. “I don’t mind. Just as long as she forgives me eventually, I will endure anything.”

A natural smile tugged at my lips. I hadn’t even realized when it appeared.

Before that warmth could settle fully, Draven stepped closer, closing the last few inches between us until I could feel his breath.

My arms, which I had folded protectively over my chest earlier, loosened and fell to my sides.

His hands touched my arms, gentle but deliberate, sliding slowly upward as if he were memorizing the feel of me.

His breathing grew deeper as his fingers traced along my skin, finally reaching my neck.

“Remember my request this morning?” he murmured.

I blinked up at him, pretending not to understand. “Which request?”

He moved his hands to cup my face, his palms warm against my cheeks. “I told you I was hungry for something.”

Before I could protest, he leaned in and kissed one cheek then the other, slow and warm.

My hands quickly flew up to hold his arms, stopping him before he could go any further.

“Not now,” I breathed. “Wait until tonight.”

He lifted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto mine while still holding my face in his hands.

“And what if I’m not in the mood tonight?”

“Then you can have me the next time you want me.”

Draven lowered his voice, deep and intimate, leaning toward my ear.

“Do you remember,” he whispered, “how many nights you were in heat… begging for me? And how I always satisfied you?”

Instantly, heat spread across the back of my neck like wildfire. My breath caught in my throat.

Yes, I remembered every single moment he was referring to. And yet, I wasn’t going to let him win this easily.

“You say it like I was the only one who benefited from those nights,” I murmured back. “Didn’t you enjoy it even more than I did?”

His posture shifted knowingly. Then, he leaned back just enough to meet my gaze properly, his eyes dark with a mixture of amusement and hunger.

“This,” he said with a low voice, “is not the time to argue.”

Then his fingers slid down to my jaw. “Whatever you say,” he added, “is right.”

His tone, the way he looked at me…

If I kept pushing him, he would lose the last thread of patience he was holding onto, and a shameful part of me wanted exactly that.

I barely held myself still.