The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 69: The Result of the Confrontation

~**(Third Person)**~

Two Days Later.

The clinking of cutlery filled the dining room, accompanied by the warm scent of spiced tea, freshly baked bread and thick beef gravy.

Meredith sat at her seat, eating slowly, with a soft, peaceful look. She poured a bit of honey over her oats, utterly unaware that Draven’s eyes had been on her for the past two minutes, unblinking and unreadable.

He hadn’t touched much of his food since breakfast started.

Every time she brought her spoon to her lips, he watched the rhythm. The easy, relaxed way she chewed on the food with her eyes taking in the plate of meat gravy.

It was the calm of someone with nothing gnawing at them. Nothing to confess.

Draven couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t watch Meredith continue to live as if everything was fine, like she was some innocent woman the world didn’t like, when it was very clear she didn’t love herself first.

"Meredith."

His voice cut across the table like a blade. It wasn’t loud. Just somewhere in-between... final.

Meredith stilled, her hand frozen mid-air as she slowly turned her gaze to him.

"I want to see you in my office after breakfast."

Then, as casually as if he had merely commented on the weather, Draven picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth once, and stood up. His chair scraped lightly against the floor.

Without another word or a glance, he turned and left.

A stunned silence fell over the table. Dennis’s face was a mixture of Confusion and curiosity as his gaze moved from his brother’s retreating back to Meredith’s surprised gaze.

Even Wanda, who had just lifted her teacup, paused mid-sip.

That was the first time Draven had ever left the dining room before Meredith.

Wanda’s interest was piqued, but she didn’t think she had much to worry about, seeing that Draven was probably mad at Meredith for some reason.

Meredith’s hand lowered slowly. Her stomach tightened, the oats suddenly turning heavy and tasteless. What did he want from her now?

As the others continued moving their golden cutlery, she pushed the rest of her food around in her bowl, pretending to eat while her mind raced.

Though her palms were clammy now, she was annoyed at Draven.

How was she supposed to continue her breakfast now?

When she finally stood to leave, a chair scraped beside her.

"I shall take you," Jeffery said simply, his tone gentle, but his face unreadable.

Meredith blinked. "No, I can go alone." She didn’t want his help.

But Jeffery didn’t move. "It’s the Alpha’s orders. And you don’t know the way to his office."

She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly since he was right, and she didn’t have much choice.

The walk to Draven’s office was short but heavy. Every step sounded too loud. The hallway looked longer than the others, and colder too.

Jeffery stopped in front of the tall, thick wooden door, knocked once, then opened it.

"Alpha. She’s here."

Draven, seated behind his desk, turned to Jeffery. "Thank you. Leave us."

Jeffery’s eyes lingered on Meredith for a breath before stepping out and closing the door.

Meredith didn’t move from the threshold.

It was her first time in this room—Draven’s home office. Dark wood panelling, shelves lined with ancient books and ledgers, a tall floor-to-ceiling window flooding the room with silvery morning light.

It was neat. Cold. Regal. Just like him.

Draven set the pen he had been holding on the table and gestured to the chair opposite his desk without taking his eyes off Meredith.

"Sit."

She held his gaze for a moment before moving her foot forward. Then she pulled out one of the seats and sat down, spine straight and hands folded in her lap, trying not to show her nerves.

"Why did you ask for me?"

Draven looked at her for a long moment. "I learned something ridiculous recently."

She stared at him like he had lost his mind and asked, "And... should you be sharing that with me?"

"I just thought you should hear it," he replied casually.

Meredith blinked a few times before tilting her head to the side. She glanced at the shut door before moving her gaze back to his face.

If she wasn’t scared of him now, she had every reason to be because something told her this wasn’t going to be a normal conversation.

Draven noticed her movement, guessed her thoughts, and nodded slowly, choosing to ignore them.

’Good. You should be scared of me,’ he stated in his head.

"A woman had an injury. Everyone around her pitied her and did their best to care for her. A lasting solution was found to erase the scar from the wound, but surprisingly, nothing worked..."

Instantly, the furrow in Meredith’s brows started to relax, her fists clenching her dress. ’You’ve got to be kidding me,’ she thought to herself as the nerves in her body came alive.

Draven noticed the change in her emotions and continued. "The wound was like a curse. It refused to heal completely. But one day, the truth was discovered. It turned out the woman has been deliberately cutting herself every few days."

"And why should I know this?" Meredith asked with barely controlled rage.

Draven’s gaze sharpened. "You’ve been making cuts on your face."

Her lips parted. She was ready to tell him he was delirious, but he continued without giving the chance.

"I know the truth Meredith, so don’t insult me by denying it."

Meredith inhaled sharply. She was so shocked, angry, and ashamed that she couldn’t say anything for a long time.

"Why?" he asked. "What could you possibly gain by keeping a wound open?"

Meredith’s eyes blazed. "I don’t see how that is any of your business!" She snapped finally.

"You are harming yourself," Draven said quietly, patiently trying to understand what was wrong with her.

She glared daggers at him. "I know exactly what I’m doing."

"Then explain it," he demanded, furrowing his brows.

Meredith laughed once, bitterly. "No. Because I don’t owe you anything, Draven. You want control over my every breath, is that it? Sorry. You don’t get to have that."

Draven was surprised with her response. He didn’t know she had such thoughts about his sudden concern.

"This isn’t about control, Meredith. I just want to know why a healthy sane woman would want to disfigure a part of her body."

"I bet you can as well put an end to that curiosity of yours because this isn’t any of your business." She scoffed, her voice rising, "You want to understand me, Alpha? Then understand this—I kept that scar open because it’s mine."

Draven shook his head, seeing how absurd and erratic she was acting. "You are being reckless—"

"And you’re being arrogant," she retorted almost immediately, her heart, beating strongly against her chest.

His eyes darkened. "Enough!"

But she stood up, refusing to stay longer than a second in the same space with him.

"Sit down," he said, voice lower now. Commanding.

The weight of the Alpha’s tone filled the room but surprisingly, she didn’t budge.

In fact, she leaned into his desk.

"No," she said, steady and firm without batting her eyes.

Draven’s eyes narrowed. Apart from the fact that he was shocked his Alpha’s command didn’t work on her, he was furious with her challenging front, so much that he could hear the sound of his blood flowing in their streams.

"Whatever power you think you have over me, it doesn’t work." Her voice lowered now, calm but fierce. "You can’t get me to do your bidding especially when I don’t want to, Draven. So stop trying."

Draven stood then too, slowly, as if measuring whether to argue or reach for something more brutal.

But Meredith didn’t give him the chance. She turned and walked out without permission.