The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 513

Chapter 513: In Danger
[Third Person].

Meredith stopped at the edge of a riverbank, the surface of the water reflecting the pale light filtering through the canopy above.

She stared at it for a long time.

Her thoughts tangled—Draven’s eyes, his voice, the way he had walked away without looking back. The bond still hummed faintly, wounded but not broken, like something alive that had been bruised.

Before Meredith could talk herself out of it, she stepped forward.

The cold water swallowed her feet, then her calves. She kept walking. The water swallowed her knees, then her waist.

Her breath hitched as the chill seeped into her skin, but she didn’t stop. When the water reached her shoulders, she hesitated only for a second, then bent forward and let herself sink beneath the surface.

The river closed over her head.

Sounds vanished, and thoughts blurred. The cold wrapped around her like a ruthless clarity, forcing everything else away.

For a moment, there was only the water and her heartbeat.

—

Draven reached the bedroom with a heaviness in his chest he couldn’t shake. Even the bedroom felt too quiet for him.

He closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face as he exhaled.

The tension in his shoulders refused to loosen. No matter how hard he tried to justify his words, his tone, his distance—something about the way he had left Meredith gnawed at him.

He leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. And that was when the bond stirred with a calm, deliberate presence that was unmistakable.

“Draven.”

His jaw tightened. “Valmora,” he replied internally, his tone guarded.

Her presence settled into the bond like a steady weight, neither invasive nor apologetic.

“I understand that you need space,” Valmora said calmly. “And you are entitled to it.”

Draven closed his eyes briefly. “Then don’t take it from me,” he said, knowing what Valmora was capable of.

“I’m not,” she answered. “But there is a thin line between distance and abandonment.”

His fingers curled against the bedding. “You don’t get to lecture me about what I feel,” he said quietly.

“I am not,” Valmora replied. “I am reminding you of what she feels.”

And that struck something raw inside Draven.

“And you think I don’t know that?” Draven snapped. “You think I don’t feel it through the bond every second?”

Valmora did not rise to his anger. She maintained the aim of her mission.

“Meredith believes she has failed you,” she said evenly. “She believes you hate her now.”

Draven scoffed under his breath. “That’s not true.”

“Then do not make her carry the weight of a mistake you have not yet decided how to process,” Valmora said. “She got it wrong. Yes. But you do not need to follow in footsteps that end in silence and distance.”

Draven went still for a moment, though showing his willingness to listen.

“Those footsteps,” Valmora continued, her voice lowering slightly, “are the same ones that broke bonds long before yours ever existed.”

He swallowed.

“She is not trying to replace you,” Valmora said. “She is trying to protect what she does not yet know how to share.”

Draven exhaled slowly, the fight draining out of him in fragments. “And you?” he asked quietly. “What are you trying to do?”

“To keep the bond from fracturing,” Valmora replied without hesitation. “And to remind you that love does not end where truth begins.”

The bond pulsed faintly, waiting. At the exact moment, something snapped.

Draven felt it first as unease—an itch beneath his ribs, subtle enough that he almost ignored it. The sensation spread quickly, tightening around his chest, squeezing his lungs until breathing felt deliberate.

“Meredith,” he breathed.

Then Valmora’s presence recoiled sharply, like a hand yanked away from fire.

“Meredith.”

The name rang through Draven’s mind as panic. And then—nothing.

The bond went terrifyingly quiet.

Draven’s heart slammed against his ribs. “No,” he whispered, already on his feet before the silence could settle. “No, no—”

“Our mate,” Rhovan snarled, fear bleeding through their shared consciousness. “She’s in danger.”

Draven didn’t hesitate. He was already dashing out of the room.

—

Rooms away, Meredith’s grandmother stirred in her chair, the quiet rhythm of rest breaking violently. Her white eyes snapped open, unfocused yet sharp, her entire body going rigid.

The air shifted, and she struck her walking stick against the floor once.

The sound reverberated unnaturally, like a warning carried farther than it should.

—

Meanwhile, back at the river, Meredith broke the surface with a slow inhale, water sliding from her skin as she drifted onto her back and floated effortlessly.

Her silver hair fanned around her like spilt moonlight, her body weightless, her expression eerily peaceful.

For a moment, it almost looked like rest. Then her eyelids fluttered. Something shifted beneath the surface.

Meredith’s eyes flew open, and she inhaled sharply just as something seized her ankle and yanked her under.

She gasped, water flooding her lungs as she was dragged beneath the surface without warning.

Panic exploded through her as she thrashed, arms and legs fighting. Her fingers clawed at the water. Her chest burned.

She forced her eyes open, desperate to see her attacker, but there was only darkness, pressure, and the relentless pull dragging her deeper.

She refused to give up. She kicked, twisted, and flailed her arms.

Then the water began to press in, and her lungs burned as her vision blurred.

Fear crept in slowly, insidiously.

‘Is this it? ‘ thought whispered. ‘Was it all a lie? The prophecies… the power… the future?’

Her movements slowed as strength drained from her limbs. Terror crept in, cold and insidious.

‘Is this how it ends?’

The thought came unbidden, cruel in its timing. ‘Was I wrong about everything I was told I would become?’

Darkness pressed closer. Then—

“ENOUGH!”

Valmora surged back into her consciousness with explosive fury.

Rage flooded Meredith’s veins—ancient, unbound, incandescent. The grip around her leg convulsed, faltered, and then shattered.

The water itself seemed to obey.