The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 477

Chapter 477: Without A Fight

[Meredith].

His words pulled Dennis’s warning back into my mind— "Then, Luna, when you visit her, be vigilant and careful. She is not as frail as she looks."

So, it wasn’t an exaggeration. This was truly dangerous, but it still didn’t change my mind.

"I will be careful," I insisted gently. "I will be fine."

Draven leaned down toward me, seriousness rolling off him in waves. "Do I look like I want to see even a tiny injury on you?"

I shook my head.

"Draven, I am not a fragile human girl," I reminded him softly. "I’m a trained werewolf. I fought in the war beside you, remember? And even if someone broke a table over my head, I would survive and heal quickly."

I meant it to reassure him, but instead, something darkened in his expression. His eyes, his aura—everything shifted.

He was angry. Though he was not shouting or scolding, he was furious in a very quiet, controlled way.

I tried to pry gently into his thoughts, but I was blocked out. His emotions were surging too sharply.

’Is he thinking I’m dismissing his concern?’ Before I could say anything more, his voice cut through the silence.

"You will meet her," he said at last. "After lunch."

My breath stilled. Then he turned away before I could respond.

"Get ready to freshen up," he added. "As soon as I’m done in the bathroom."

He didn’t wait for my reply. He simply walked away rigidly, disappearing behind the door that led to the bathroom and the walk-in closet.

I watched until the door clicked shut, and only then did I exhale slowly because Draven wasn’t angry at my stubbornness. I could feel it.

He was angry at the idea of my being hurt. Furious at a world where danger might touch me at all. And that kind of protectiveness was twice as heavy as love.

---

The elevator hummed softly as it descended, but inside it, the silence felt louder than machinery.

Draven stood beside me, posture composed, expression neutral—too neutral. Ever since he had walked out of the bathroom this morning, he’d barely spoken unless necessary.

He wasn’t ignoring me, but he wasn’t with me either. And I hated it.

When the elevator doors slid open on the ground floor, and we stepped into the hallway, the tension only tightened in my chest. Finally, I couldn’t tolerate it anymore.

"If you’re mad at me," I said quietly, "then I won’t visit your mother anymore."

His response came low, almost muttered under his breath. "As if that’s the bone of contention here."

I stopped walking. He took two more steps before realizing I wasn’t beside him. Then he turned with brows lowering faintly.

"Why did you stop?"

I stared at him—at that calm, stoic face hiding a storm. "I’m not going for breakfast with this kind of energy between us," I said. "And I don’t care who sees."

Servants occasionally passed through the hallway, bowing as they went, but I didn’t care. Let them see. Let them speculate. I refused to swallow my feelings simply to appear ’proper.’

Draven exhaled, lifting his head slightly before looking back at me fully.

"Meredith," he said, voice lower now, "at least if you don’t want to apologize for making someone mad, don’t make them more mad."

’Does he think I’m incapable of owning my mistakes?’ I nearly scoffed at that thought.

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