The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 515

Chapter 515: Not Happen Again

[Third Person].

"I’ve got her," Draven said again, firmer this time, as he adjusted Meredith against his chest as if afraid even the air might hurt her. "Clear the way."

They obeyed without question, stepping back as he carried their Mistress straight toward the bathing chamber.

Draven’s jaw tightened as he shouldered the door open and moved inside. Steam still lingered faintly from earlier, but the room felt wrong—too quiet, too still for what had almost happened.

Without hesitation, but with careful, efficient movements, he lowered Meredith onto the edge of the pool just long enough to strip away her soaked dress.

The fabric clung stubbornly to her, heavy with river water, and his hands trembled only once as he peeled it from her shoulders and down her arms.

She didn’t stir, and that terrified him more than the river ever had.

Next, he tugged his own wet shirt over his head and tossed it aside without looking, then lifted her again, stepping into the pool with her cradled against him.

The warm water closed around them, steam curling upward as he sank down until he could support her fully.

Her head rested against his shoulder, with one arm lying slack between them.

"Breathe," he murmured, though he wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to her or himself.

Then, he gathered water with his hands and poured it slowly over her back, over her arms, over her chest, warming her inch by inch.

His palm stayed pressed to her spine, grounding, anchoring her, as if letting go for even a second might steal her away again.

Minutes passed like that. Then, barely there, Meredith’s fingers twitched lightly.

Draven froze as he watched her. Her lashes fluttered, and a weak sound slipped past her lips, more breath than voice.

"...Draven."

Instantly, the sound shattered something inside him.

"I’m here," he said almost immediately, tightening his hold just enough to feel her breathe. "I’ve got you."

Her head shifted slightly, seeking him even in her half-conscious state, and when she sagged fully against his chest, relief hit him so hard his vision blurred.

He stayed like that long after her breathing evened out, long after the worst of the cold eased from her body.

And when at last he carried her back to the bedroom and laid her down, wrapping her in warm blankets, he did not leave her side.

Not even when Azul returned quietly with dry linens, or when Deidra offered wordless help and was gently waved away. And definitely not even when Meredith slipped fully into sleep again.

Draven sat on the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around hers, his thumb brushing slow, repetitive circles into her skin.

Every sharp word he had thrown earlier replayed in his mind as every step he had taken away from her echoed louder now.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead briefly to her knuckles.

"I should have stayed," he whispered, too softly for anyone but himself to hear.

---

Draven remained seated beside the bed long after the room had gone quiet.

Meredith lay still beneath the covers, her breathing shallow but steady now, the dangerous chill slowly retreating from her skin.

Sunlight filtered through the window, pale and muted, casting soft patterns across her face. He hadn’t moved since bringing her back. He hadn’t trusted himself to step away.

"It was the water spirit." Valmora’s voice rose through the bond, unmistakable now.

"I know," he said quietly. "Her grandmother said the same."

"That thing overstepped. It should never have dared," Valmora replied, her tone low and controlled, but threaded with fury.

"Spirits like that are drawn to shifts in power. To awakenings. It sensed her before she understood what was happening herself."

"It attacked because she was vulnerable," he said, more statement than question.

"Because I was not with her." The admission carried weight.

Draven exhaled slowly. "You were with me."

"Exactly," Valmora answered, anger flaring briefly before settling again. "And in that moment, the river thought it could reach for what does not belong to it. A spirit born of water has no claim over a Queen’s blood."

"You heard what her grandmother did," he said. "She drove it off."

"She warned it," Valmora corrected. "But I... I will make sure it remembers the warning."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify