The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 503

Chapter 503: Something Strange About Draven
[Meredith].

The first leap stole my breath because I flew farther than I expected. The ground blurred beneath me as my body found its rhythm effortlessly, muscles working in perfect harmony.

Wind tore past my ears.

Scents flooded my senses—damp earth, pine, wildflowers still closed in sleep, the faint lingering trace of night creatures retreating into shadow.

I could hear everything: the whisper of leaves brushing together, the soft scuttle of something small darting away, my own heartbeat pounding strong and sure.

I laughed—actually laughed, but the sound came out as a breathy huff lost to the wind.

This was freedom.

I wove between trees, leapt over fallen logs, my body responding faster than thought. Each stride filled me with exhilaration, with a joy so pure it made my chest ache.

This was what it meant to belong to the land. This was what Valmora had meant.

I didn’t know how long I ran—minutes or an hour, but time felt meaningless here. When I finally slowed, chest heaving, tongue lolling slightly, I lifted my head and howled softly into the quiet morning.

The sound echoed triumphantly.

When I finally turned back toward the village, my body hummed with contentment, my spirit light in a way I had never known before.

I shifted back just as easily, breath hitching as the world settled into human limits again. I pulled on my robe, my hands still trembling from wonder.

I had run. And for the first time in my life, I felt like nothing in the world could ever truly cage me again.

I slowed as I neared my grandmother’s house, my breath still coming fast, my skin warm from the run.

The early light was just beginning to soften the edges of the world, the sky a pale wash of silver and blue.

Then I stopped short at the figure before me. Draven stood a few steps ahead of me.

For a heartbeat, everything in me seized.

He was already dressed, hair still damp as if he’d just washed his face, arms folded loosely across his chest. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t frowning either. He was simply watching me.

A thousand thoughts collided at once.

Did he see me? Did he sense it? Did he follow me outside? Did he see my wolf?

My pulse thudded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

But before I could speak, his brows drew together slightly. “Did you go for a run?”

The question landed far too calmly. I almost bit my tongue.

For half a second, I considered lying, outrightly denying everything, but something in his gaze stopped me. I nodded instead.

“Yes.”

He stepped closer slowly, deliberately, like he was studying something he didn’t quite understand yet. His eyes traced my face, my posture, the way I held myself.

My heart began to race all over again.

“I thought you dreaded morning runs,” he said quietly. “What drove you out today?”

I swallowed a mouthful of saliva. For a fraction of a moment, the words tangled in my throat. Then—smoothly, too smoothly, they slipped free.

“I just felt like it today,” I said. “So, I decided to go for it.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, just not the whole truth.

Draven didn’t respond right away. He kept looking at me like that—thoughtful, assessing, almost wary. I couldn’t tell if he was seeing through me or sensing something else entirely.

Finally, he reached out and took my hand. The contact grounded me more than I wanted it to.

“These days,” he said as he turned toward the house, gently tugging me along, “you’ve been acting like a mischievous cat.”

“I’m a wolf,” I replied instantly. “Not a cat.”

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I froze mid-step, my own response startling me.

Draven paused and looked back at me.

For a long moment, his gaze searched mine—deep, unreadable. Then he shook his head slightly, as if dismissing a thought he wasn’t ready to voice, and resumed walking, leading me back inside.

We reached our room. The familiar warmth wrapped around me as the door closed behind us.

“I’m going to take a bath,” I said, forcing lightness into my tone. Then, impulsively, I added, “Do you want to join me?”

He arched a brow faintly, amused. “Not today. I need to go for my own run.”

I smiled, nodding, and slipped into the bathroom. But the moment I closed the door behind me, the smile fell away.

I stared at my reflection in the dim water-lit stone, my chest rising and falling too fast.

Something was off this morning. About me. About him. About the way his eyes had lingered just a second too long.

I couldn’t tell whether he had sensed my wolf or whether I was the one changing faster than I realized.

I sat lower in the pool, letting the warm water close around my shoulders. I scooped water with the ladle and poured it over myself, again and again, as if the heat could wash away the tight knot in my chest.

“Do you think he saw us?” I asked Valmora quietly. “Saw me.”

There was a pause before her presence stirred. “What do you think?” she asked instead.

I frowned slightly, water dripping from my hair as I leaned back against the stone. I forced myself to slow down, to replay the moment instead of spiralling.

“He was standing in front of the house when I returned,” I murmured, thinking it through. “That means he didn’t follow me. He didn’t get close enough to the clearing.” I exhaled. “So… no. He couldn’t have seen us.”

The image of his strange stare surfaced again.

“Maybe that look,” I continued, quieter now, “was just because I went for a morning run. Something I usually avoid.”

Valmora’s tone turned dry, almost amused. “If you’ve already reached your conclusion, why did you ask for my opinion?”

I let out a tired sigh, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. “Forget it.”

The water lapped softly around me, steam rising into the dim space, but the unease lingered persistently.

Even if Draven hadn’t seen my wolf, something had shifted. And I wasn’t sure how long it would take before he felt it too.