The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 549

Chapter 549: Stealing the Spotlight

[Third Person].

Meanwhile, Meredith, who had been speaking for a while, remained very busy with her guests.

She gestured lightly to the space around them. "This estate has long stood as a symbol of power. Today, I want it to be a place of listening."

A small pause followed before she continued. "I know many of you work until your bodies ache. I know some of you choose between medicine and food. I know that when women suffer quietly, it is often dismissed as endurance."

Her voice remained steady, but something firm anchored it now. "That is not strength. That is neglect."

A ripple passed through the crowd, but Meredith continued, "I am not here to promise impossible change in a single day. But I am here to start something consistent."

She turned slightly, indicating the tables set at the side. "Later today, you will eat here as women who deserve rest. You will take home teas for pain and digestion, and balms for wounds and tired joints."

Then, she tilted her chin subtly and said intentionally, "Those are not gifts; they are tools. And this will not be the last time we gather."

That caught their attention immediately as their minds began to wander about, wondering if this was the first in many coming meetings.

"In the coming weeks," Meredith said, "I plan to hold smaller meetings—practical ones. I want to teach skills that can be passed on—simple healing practices, preparation of salves, drying and storing herbs. For those interested, we will also begin craft sessions—sewing, preserving, work that can be shared or sold."

A murmur rose, this time unmistakably interested.

"I will not decide these things alone," Meredith went on. "Which is why, before we eat, before anything else, I want to hear from you."

She stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and the benches. "Tell me what burdens you carry," she said gently. "Not all at once. One voice at a time."

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then a middle-aged woman with shoulders stiff with exhaustion stood.

"My Luna," she began automatically.

Meredith shook her head softly. "Please, speak freely."

The woman swallowed. "My husband works the eastern fields. My hands..." She held them up, cracked and swollen. "They don’t heal like they used to."

Meredith listened without interruption. When the woman finished, Meredith nodded once. "That pain you’re describing—there are balms that can ease it. Today you will receive one. And if you are willing, I can teach you how to make it yourself."

The woman’s eyes widened.

Another voice followed. Then another.

A young mother spoke of children falling ill too often. An older woman admitted quietly that loneliness weighed more heavily than hunger.

Meredith knelt beside one bench, crouched beside another, asked careful questions—how long, how often, what helps, what doesn’t—remembering each answer.

Inside her, Valmora observed everything, but then, she sensed something else. A familiar, sharpened presence crossing the estate’s wards.

’Wanda.’ Valmora snorted softly within Meredith’s mind. ’She is close,’ she noted coolly, sensing the familiar, artificial sweetness threading through the estate’s wards. ’That peacock.’

However, Meredith did not hear or sense Wanda approaching, as she was too busy listening to the women before her, plus Valmora did not tell her.

’Let her come,’ the wolf thought, sounding unbothered. ’A nuisance dressed as influence. Pretty. Clever. Empty.’

Meredith’s heart almost dropped. ’Why is she here?’ The thought came sharp and immediate.

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