The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 96: Barely Wore Anything

Draven.

She was late.

And I should have expected it since we haven’t fought in a while.

I checked the time again, my fingers drumming against my forearm as I stood near the pool’s edge. The water rippled calmly, unaware that it had been waiting far too long for a student who clearly didn’t understand the concept of punctuality.

No one—absolutely no one—keeps an Alpha waiting.

But of course, there was always that one person. A woman named Meredith Carter, who seemed to exist solely to defy every expectation, instruction, and rule laid before her.

I exhaled slowly through my nose, the humid afternoon breeze clinging to my skin. My thin white shirt was rolled to my elbows, half soaked already from leaning too close to the water. Khaki shorts, bare feet. My hair was tied back in a tight bun.

Still no Meredith.

Then, finally, casual footsteps padded along the tiles. I didn’t even need to look to know it was her. The audacity of that unhurried gait was familiar now.

I turned, and there she was, silver hair falling past her shoulders, her gown brushing her ankles, walking as if she wasn’t twenty minutes late.

"What took you so long?" I asked, barely keeping the hint of impatience in my tone away.

She didn’t even flinch. "I was napping, and then I almost cancelled the class. But since I didn’t inform you earlier, I decided to come. I thought you would be gone by now," she said plainly. "I apologize for keeping you waiting."

That was it. No real remorse. No fluster. Just that detached, irritating calm that came naturally to her.

I guess she had grown too comfortable around me. My mistake.

And what did she say before the apology? She almost cancelled a life-saving class I curated because I wanted to help her keep her life for some time?

I glanced at her gown. Thick. Heavy. Drenched in layers of fabric, no sane person would consider wearing near a pool.

Briefly, I considered a questioning session with her maidservants.

"You’re going to learn to swim in that?" I asked, gesturing toward her outfit.

She looked down at herself, blinked once, then looked back at me. "What’s wrong with it?"

"You will drown faster in that dress than you did yesterday," I said.

She frowned. Her brows twitched together, and then her eyes widened as a wild, absurd implication hit her.

"Wait—" she narrowed her eyes. "You expect me to come here half-naked? Like those Duskmoor women I saw on TV?"

I let out a short, sharp scoff and set my hands on my hips. "What the hell are you talking about?"

What does this woman take me for?

It was her confidence to even conceive such a ridiculous thought in her head about me. She was really creative. Very creative and delusional.

"Those women barely wear anything," she continued. "Don’t tell me that’s what you expect—"

"Does it look like I’m interested in your body?" I asked coldly, cutting her off.

Rhovan stirred in the back of my mind.

"But I am."

I ignored him.

And just to drive the point home, I turned toward the water, tossing back, "As if there’s anything worth seeing."

A loud huff sounded behind me. "I can hear you, you know."

She sounded pretty much annoyed.

"That was the whole point," I said without looking back. "Now come over here. We are already behind schedule."

She didn’t argue, but I could feel the heat of her glare burning into the back of my head as she walked up beside me.

"How long will the class last today?" she asked.

I arched a brow, turning to her. "Why? Are you already planning to run away?"

She didn’t answer. Just stopped in front of me and waited. That look again—silent resistance. It crawled beneath the skin.

I glanced at her hair, silver and thick, flowing freely down her back.

"At least tie your hair up," I said. "Pretend like you are interested in this lesson."

She frowned. "Is that really necessary?"

Her hands moved to gather her hair anyway, her fingers working quickly.

"I saw a documentary once," she added, rolling her hair into a neat bun. "The Duskmoor women in it swam without tying their hair."

I stared down at her. The height difference was more noticeable up close, especially when she had to tilt her head back to meet my eyes.

"Can those Duskmoor women swim?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

Then I narrowed my gaze. "Can you swim?"

She didn’t answer. And she never argued about it.

"Good," I said. "Didn’t think so. But if you want your hair in your face while you drown, be my guest."

She let out an exaggerated sigh and tucked the last strand of her bun into place. "I almost drowned yesterday," she muttered. "And now you’ve mentioned drowning twice today. What kind of coach are you?"

"One who doesn’t sugarcoat things."

I was about to turn toward the pool again when a familiar voice cut through the air behind us.

"Well, this looks cozy."

I didn’t need to look to know who it was, but I still turned anyway.

Dennis stood near the pool entrance, hands tucked into his pockets, a smug smile plastered on his face.

Sometimes, I wonder how he can be so happy and where that burst of energy comes from. It just wasn’t practical.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He walked over casually and dropped himself into one of the chairs at the far side of the pool. "Came to watch the lesson, to see if your student survives the hour."

Meredith crossed her arms beside me, her lips twitching slightly.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Stay. Just don’t distract her; otherwise, I will kick you out on the same route you came from."

"Don’t worry, I plan to stay here until the very end," he replied, kicking his legs out and settling in.

I turned back to the woman beside me. "Alright. Into the pool."

She hesitated for half a second, then asked, "Won’t you carry me in?"

I stared at her like I would an empty skull.