The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 504

Chapter 504: She Hurt Us
{Draven}

~**^**~

I watched Meredith disappear into the bathing area, the door closing softly behind her. Something in my chest dimmed.

“Did you see that?” Rhovan asked quietly.

I turned away from the bed and stepped into the short hallway, my jaw tightening. “Of course I saw it,” I replied. “The light in her eyes. Her purple eyes don’t look like that unless—”

“Unless she wasn’t entirely herself,” Rhovan finished. “Valmora took the reins again.”

I didn’t answer right away. I pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway. After a short walk, I stepped outside, the cool air brushing against my skin.

Above me, the moon was already retreating, pale and half-hidden by drifting clouds.

“I still can’t believe she had the mind to lie to me,” I said finally, my voice low. “I thought we were beyond that.”

Rhovan’s presence shifted, wounded. “I feel it too. She doesn’t trust us. If she did, she wouldn’t have hidden something like this.” His voice roughened. “We’ve waited for this day. All along. So why hide it?”

I looked down at the ground, fists curling. “I think this has something to do with her grandmother.”

Rhovan stilled.

“Last night,” I continued, “when she spoke to Dennis. She said some things weren’t meant to be discovered—only found when the time was right.”

Understanding crept slowly through the bond.

“So she knew,” Rhovan murmured. “She knew we would find out like this.”

“Yes.” I exhaled sharply. “She was preparing me. Preparing us.”

“But it still doesn’t make sense,” Rhovan said.

I let out a humourless breath. “I bet it does—to her.”

The frustration simmered too close to the surface. Before it could spill over, I let go. The shift came naturally.

Fur tore through skin, bones realigning as power surged through me.

Rhovan took over entirely this time, and together we launched forward, paws striking earth as we ran—fast, hard—trying to outrun the tangle of betrayal and understanding coiled inside my chest.

—

(Flashback Starts…)

Sleep had shattered violently.

“She’ is gone,” Rhovan said. “Our mate is gone.”

I bolted upright, heart slamming as I scanned the room. Meredith’s side of the bed was empty and cold.

“What?” I swung my legs over the edge. “Where?”

Rhovan answered, “She put us to sleep.”

I froze. “That’s not possible.”

“It is now,” Rhovan said grimly. “She didn’t force it. Just… asked with intent.”

That alone should have shaken me more than it did. “Where is she?” I demanded.

“Outside. I can feel her through the bond. Her scent. Her energy.” Rhovan paused slightly, then added, “She is moving.”

I ran a hand through my hair and went straight to the bathroom, splashing water over my face and shoulders, grounding myself before pulling on clothes and stepping outside.

The moment my feet hit the ground, her scent wrapped around me, fresh and wild.

“She is running?” I muttered.

“Yes,” Rhovan said, awe threading his voice. “And she is happy. Free.”

That didn’t make sense. Meredith hated morning runs.

I followed the pull of her scent deeper into the trees, slowing as the forest opened into a clearing. And then I saw her.

For a heartbeat, fear struck me.

A silver wolf moved through the clearing like moonlight given form—sleek, powerful, radiant. Her fur shimmered faintly, catching what little moonlight remained, and her presence… it was overwhelming.

I didn’t need confirmation. I knew her scent. Her aura. Her soul.

“It’s her,” Rhovan whispered, reverent.

Then she lifted her head and howled. The sound tore through me. I didn’t know whether to laugh, rage, or fall to my knees.

My mate had finally shifted, and she hadn’t told me.

I stayed hidden, watching as she ran—fast, joyful, untethered. When she finally turned back toward the house, I left first, forcing my breathing steady, my expression neutral.

When she emerged and stiffened at the sight of me, I pretended ignorance.

“Did you go for a run?” I asked, giving her every chance.

She said yes. Only that. And that was when it hurt.

(Flashback ends…)

—

My paws tore through the undergrowth as we ran harder and faster.

Part of me burned with pride, while another part felt shut out—unnecessary.

I wanted to confront her. Demand answers. Ask her why she didn’t trust me with something this monumental.

But another part of me hesitated.

Maybe this wasn’t the place. Perhaps she needed grace. Or maybe I needed to see how long she would keep running from the truth, and from me.

I didn’t know which choice would hurt less, and that uncertainty followed me long after the run ended.

—

By the time I shifted back, the sky had already begun to brighten.

Dawn crept across the treetops, and the village was waking—women sweeping porches, men carrying baskets, voices low with morning routines.

A few of them stared when they saw me walk past them. Sweat streaked across my skin like a second layer. I ignored every look.

Two servants bowed as I stepped into the entry hall. “Good morning, Alpha,” they murmured.

I didn’t respond. I just headed straight to our room.

When I pushed the door open, Meredith was laughing softly. Azul and Deidra stood beside her, helping braid her silver hair.

She looked light and unbothered, as if nothing in the world was wrong.

Then, she lifted her head, her smile brightening when she saw me. The maids bowed quickly and slipped out, the door closing behind them.

I forced a smile to answer hers.

“What took you so long?” she asked, amusement in her voice.

“I went for a run,” I said. “Remember?”

“I know,” she replied, tilting her head. “But you took longer than usual.”

I paused, then narrowed my eyes just a little. “I had a lot in my head to clear out.”

Her smile faltered, just for a second. She felt it—my mood. I shouldn’t have let it slip, but a part of me wanted her to notice. To feel the weight of what she had hidden.

Without waiting for more questions, I said, “I’m going to take a quick bath.”

She nodded, studying me with a gaze that was both gentle and searching. “Alright.”

I didn’t give her more. I couldn’t yet.

—

I stripped and stepped into the pool, sinking beneath the warm water. It rose against my shoulders, steam curling around me.

I poured water over my head, letting it run down my face, hoping it could wash off the frustration sitting like stone behind my ribs.

“You are being petty,” Rhovan muttered.

“Maybe,” I whispered. “But I’m allowed to feel something.”

I dragged a hand down my face. “I shouldn’t have been so cold to her. She will notice, and then worry next.”

But the other part of me, the one with a pulse like iron, spoke louder. “Good. Let her notice. She should know she hurt us.”

I poured another scoop of water down my back. The truth churned in my chest, the kind that didn’t know whether to roar or break.

“I want to understand her,” I muttered. “I don’t want to be angry.”

“But you are,” Rhovan whispered. “And that’s alright.”

I leaned forward, my elbows braced on the stone because the truth was simple: My mate finally shifted. And she didn’t trust me enough to tell me.

—

I stepped back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, water still clinging to my skin. The air felt heavier in here.

Meredith was still there.

Her eyes followed me again as I crossed the room and pulled my clothes from the closet. I felt her attention sliding over me, hesitant and searching.

“Stop staring,” I said without turning around.

“You are too silent for me this morning,” she replied.

I slipped into my pants and exhaled through my nose. “Get used to this side of me.”

The smile I gave her felt wrong the moment it left my face.

“That’s not funny,” she said.

I turned then, and our eyes met.

She stood and crossed the space between us, slowly and carefully. Like she was afraid I would pull away.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “Is there still something bothering you?”

“Yes,” I said, honest to a fault. “Of course there is.”

I grabbed my shirt and slid my arms through it. As I began to button it, her hands came up and gently moved mine aside.

She finished the buttons for me instead, her fingers brushing my chest with each one.

I let her. It was easier than pulling away.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” she asked softly.

I looked down at her hands, then at her face. “We will talk after breakfast,” I said. I didn’t trust myself to say more than that.

I watched her finish buttoning my shirt.

Her fingers lingered longer than necessary, smoothing the fabric over my chest as if she could iron the tension out of me with touch alone.

Then I met her eyes briefly.

“It’s unlike you to give me attitude,” she said, her voice calm but observant. Too observant. “But I will wait until after breakfast to talk about it.”

I nodded once. It was easier than answering.

What she didn’t know was that ‘after breakfast’ was nothing more than a placeholder. An excuse I had given us both so I wouldn’t have to explain myself yet—or worse, confront her with what I already knew.

I wasn’t ready to hear her reasons. And I wasn’t ready to admit how deeply it hurt that she hadn’t trusted me with the truth.