The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 506

Chapter 506: A Flaw
[Meredith].

I watched Draven walk away until his back disappeared between the houses. And for a moment, I almost followed him.

My feet even shifted forward, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. Every instinct screamed at me to stop him, to grab his hand, to tell him everything before he reached my grandmother and heard things out of order—or worse, learned the truth without me.

But I didn’t.

I stood there, alone on the narrow path, the morning breeze brushing against my skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and wild herbs.

The village felt too quiet without him beside me.

Whatever was bothering Draven, I knew it now. It might have everything to do with me.

I continued walking, slower this time, my steps aimless. My thoughts tangled, heavy and sharp.

I pressed my lips together and finally reached inward, toward the familiar presence that had been restless all morning.

“Valmora,” I called silently. “Is now the right time to tell him?”

She didn’t answer immediately.

I swallowed. “About… everything. Being able to wolf out. The abilities. The fae blood. My grandmother.”

There was a small pause before her low, tired voice came.

“Isn’t it too late to explain yourself?”

I stopped walking. “What do you mean, too late?” I asked sharply. “Valmora, what are you talking about?”

She sighed—an actual sigh, heavy and resigned, echoing inside me. “He already knows, Meredith.”

My heart stuttered. “K-knows what?” I demanded. “How could he possibly know? Not even guess like—”

“He saw us.”

In this very moment, the world tilted.

I felt my breath catching, my chest tightening so suddenly I had to brace myself against the rough bark of a nearby tree.

“Saw… us?” My thoughts scrambled. “That’s not possible. He couldn’t have seen us. I… we would have known—.”

Valmora cut in gently. “I think you overestimated yourself. And you underestimated him.”

I shook my head, even though no one could see me. “When? How?”

“In the woods,” she answered. “This morning. He followed our scent. He saw us shift. He saw us run. He saw us howl to the moon.”

My throat burned. “No…”

“And he recognized you,” she continued quietly. “Your energy. Your aura. There was never any doubt in his mind.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. The image hit me all at once—Draven standing there, watching from the shadows, seeing me in a form I hadn’t trusted him enough to share.

Valmora knew all these and is only telling me now? She didn’t even warn me. Instead, she let me do as I pleased.

“Our mate is hurt,” Valmora said. “Not angry the way you fear. Disappointed. Confused. Questioning why the one person he trusts most chose to hide something this important from him.”

My chest ached. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” I whispered. “I was trying to protect him. And… myself.”

“I know,” Valmora replied. “But try to see it from his side. He has waited for this. For you to run. To shift. To be whole. And when it finally happened, he learned it as an observer—not a partner.”

I swallowed hard. “Grandma asked me to keep this to myself,” I said weakly. “She said it wasn’t time.”

“Maybe,” Valmora said, “you shouldn’t have listened to her.”

The words stung. “Since you knew this could happen,” I shot back, “you should have warned me.”

Valmora was silent for a moment. Then, calmly, she asked, “Would you have listened to me?”

I didn’t answer because the truth was painfully clear. I wouldn’t have.

I trusted my grandmother more than anyone in the world. More than fate. More than instinct. More than Valmora herself.

Valmora softened, hearing my thoughts. “Your grandmother means well,” she said. “Do listen to her. Her lessons will save you more than you realize. Just as she’s trying to teach our mate right now.”

I frowned. “Teach Draven?”

“Yes.”

I let out a slow breath. “She knew this would happen, didn’t she? She let this unfold to teach him a lesson?”

“What kind of lesson?” I pressed.

Valmora hesitated. “I still struggle to read her. But I sense this much—she wants him to learn patience. Tolerance. To understand that loving you also means allowing you the space to grow, even when it hurts him.”

I shook my head faintly. “That’s a cruel method.”

“Maybe,” Valmora admitted. “Or maybe necessary.”

My chest felt too tight. “I need to talk to him,” I said. “Now.”

“Not yet,” Valmora replied firmly. “Later.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on me—my power, my secrets, my love, and the growing distance between the man walking back toward the house and the woman standing alone on the path.

For the first time since last night, I didn’t know which direction was right. And that frightened me more than any curse ever could.

**—**

[Draven].

I found Meredith’s grandma waiting in the sitting room.

She hadn’t changed positions since breakfast. The same straight-backed posture. The same walking stick resting against her knee.

Her white, sightless eyes were turned toward the open space in front of her, as if she could already feel me standing there.

“Alpha Draven,” she said calmly. “You walk heavily for someone who claims discipline.”

I stopped two steps in. “I didn’t realize you were listening for my footsteps,” I replied evenly.

She smiled faintly—knowingly. “One learns to listen when sight is no longer a luxury.”

I inclined my head. “You asked to see me.”

“Yes.” She gestured toward the cushion opposite her. “Sit.”

I did.

The moment stretched longer than necessary. She didn’t speak again right away. Instead, she lifted the small cup of tea beside her, brought it to her lips, and drank slowly—deliberately.

She was testing me, and I waited.

Finally, she said, “You’re troubled.”

“I imagine that’s not news to you.”

Her lips curved. “You carry unrest loudly. It hums around you like a swarm.”

I resisted the urge to clench my jaw. “If this meeting is meant to diagnose my emotions, I would prefer honesty instead.”

A small pause followed, then, calmly, “You have patience,” she said. “But it is learned patience. Not natural.”

I met her gaze. “Is that a flaw?”

“It is… unfinished.”

I exhaled through my nose, slow and controlled. “You said you wanted to speak with me.”

“And we are speaking,” she replied serenely. “Tell me, Alpha—when something precious grows beyond what you expect, do you tighten your grip… or loosen it?”