“That strange grip you had on the table,” I continued. “You were about to flip it, weren’t you?”
Meredith didn’t flinch. “I wasn’t.”
I studied her for a long moment. “It’s good to be angry when you’re mistreated,” I said finally, “but anger alone isn’t enough to change anything.”
Her brows pulled together slightly. “What part of me was angry?”
I smirked. “Denial is amusing, little wolf. But next time, if you want to flip a table, get a wolf first.” I leaned in just slightly, my voice dropping to a lower register. “Especially in a room full of Elders and pack leaders.”
Her reaction was immediate. Her chest rose and fell sharply, anger flashing across her face.
Before she could spit out whatever sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue, I stepped aside, giving her a clear path.
Meredith hesitated for a fraction of a second, then lifted her chin and walked past me, her steps stiff with frustration.
As she disappeared down the hall, I exhaled through my nose, watching her retreating form.
Let’s see how and where you channel all that anger.
But one thing was clear-if Meredith ever gained a wolf, she wouldn’t be a delicate little thing anymore.
She would be unpredictable. Uncontrollable. Dangerous.
And that? That could be a problem.
Just then, the banquet hall doors creaked open again.
“Draven.”
I didn’t need to look to know who it was.
Wanda’s voice was smooth, carrying a note of familiarity as she walked toward me.
I turned slightly, catching the way her gaze flickered past my shoulder, following the direction Meredith had gone. But she quickly schooled her expression, releasing a small sigh as she reached my side.
“You really made a mistake marrying her,” she said, her voice almost pitying.
I kept my expression unreadable. “How so?”
Wanda turned fully toward me, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly. “You saw what happened tonight, didn’t you? She humiliated you, Draven. She embarrassed you in front of the entire council. Even the servants don’t respect her.”
I glanced down at her. “I can deal with that much.”
She inhaled through her nose, disappointment flashing in her expression. “According to my father, there’s already been talk since the night you claimed her,” she continued, folding her arms. “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”
“There are always talks, Wanda,” I said simply. “I was prepared for them.”
She held my gaze for a long moment. Then, something unreadable crossed her face.
“Draven,” she said carefully, “do you actually plan to make Meredith your wife?”
Something in her tone shifted.
I frowned subtly. “She is already my wife.”
Wanda’s lips parted slightly. I could see the words forming in her mind, but in the end, she hesitated. And then-she dropped it.
“Forget it,” she murmured, shaking her head.
But I knew exactly what she had meant.
She hadn’t been asking whether I acknowledged Meredith as my wife. She had been asking if I planned to let Meredith bear my children.
The answer was none of her business. But for the sake of drawing the line, I let the silence stretch between us.
A heartbeat later, Wanda changed the topic.
“I heard there’s been another killing,” she said, folding her arms. “And we are returning to Duskmoor the day after tomorrow.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
Wanda tilted her head. “Who do you think is behind it?” she asked. “Humans? Or some sort of beast?”
I exhaled slowly. “We will find out once the investigation yields results.”
Wanda studied me for a moment, then nodded.
I had no patience for further conversation.
“I’ve had a long day,” I said, cutting the discussion short. “I need to rest.”
She hesitated, lips parting slightly like she wanted to say more. But then she simply exhaled and forced a small smile.
“Good night, Draven. Rest well.”
I didn’t buy it.
Wanda never dropped things so easily. Whatever was brewing in her head, it wasn’t over. And I had a feeling I’d find out soon enough.
Meredith.
I turned the corner and found Madame Beatrice waiting for me.
She didn’t speak, didn’t ask questions, didn’t even look at me for longer than a second before turning on her heel and starting down the hall. I followed in silence, my pulse still thrumming from my encounter with Draven and Gary.
The journey back to my room was painfully long-hallway after hallway, staircase after staircase. My feet ached with each step, my body screaming from exhaustion. My throat burned with thirst, my stomach churned in hunger, and yet, Madame Beatrice moved with the same rigid posture, her steps as sharp and strong as ever.
Even at her age, she showed no signs of fatigue.
I released a slow breath, coming to yet another miserable realization-I wasn’t built for this world. If I had a wolf, climbing staircases for ten minutes straight wouldn’t feel like I was dragging chains behind me.
Draven’s words clawed at my mind.
“Get a wolf first before you think about flipping a table.”
My hands curled into fists. He had insulted me, just like the rest of them. Treated me like a weakling. And the worst part? He was right.
I hated that more than anything.
By the time we reached my room, my breaths were shallow. Madame Beatrice unlocked the door and stepped aside.
I hesitated.
She gestured lightly. “After you.”
My brows knitted together.
After me?
I wasn’t used to that. People always walked ahead of me-pushing me aside, making me wait, making me last.
But her expression didn’t shift.
I wasn’t sure if this was some kind of subtle test, but I wasn’t about to stand outside my own bedroom all night. I stepped forward and entered.
The moment I crossed the threshold, I noticed movement inside the room.
Four female servants were inside, adjusting things, straightening pillows, folding and unfolding sheets as if the slightest wrinkle would offend someone. But as soon as they heard our footsteps, they froze and turned toward the door, bowing.
To me.
For a second, I didn’t move. They weren’t bowing to Madame Beatrice. They were bowing to me.
It felt strange, and I wasn’t sure what to think about it.
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply