“I don’t give a damn about your title,” I spat. “You could be Alpha King of the Sun and Stars, and I would still see you as nothing more than a controlling tyrant.”
I was breathing fire now, chest heaving. My entire body buzzed with uncontrolled fury.
I hated him.
And I had said so much, yet-he didn’t flinch.
Instead, he raised his fork and pointed it at me, eyes calm. “Now I know why the Moon Goddess cursed you.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You resent her,” he said, voice still soft, cutting sharper than any blade. “But you should blame yourself. She gave you wild pheromones instead of a wolf because you weren’t deserving of power. You weren’t meant for greatness.”
My nails dug into my palm.
“Don’t question her any longer,” he said. “She saw who you truly are. And gave you what you deserve.”
Then he downed the rest of his wine like it was water, and Jeffery was already there, refilling the glass without a word before slipping back into the shadows.
Draven’s gaze returned to me.
“I can say these things,” he continued, “because I’m powerful enough to bear the weight of them. But you? You can’t control your emotions. You lash out. You burn bridges. You are angry, prideful. Too prideful for someone without a wolf.”
My knuckles turned ashen from the constant clenching of my fists.
I was shaking.
“And to crown it all. You are a liability to our race, Meredith.”
His words seared through me, hot and cruel. I wanted to scream. To cry. To vanish. But more than anything, I wanted to hurt him to ease my pain and satisfy my rage.
Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t. Because, like his words meant, I am nothing.
“If you want mercy from the Moon Goddess,” he said, lifting the wine to his lips again, “start by becoming someone worth saving. And be careful-your enemies are growing in number. You are not as invisible as you think.”
The silence that followed was unbearable.
He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then looked at me again. Without any empathy, and with all audacity, he dared to ask me,
“Do you have anything to say?”
I opened my mouth. A thousand things boiled to the surface. But instead, I said coldly, “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”
I stood without waiting for permission, without care for appearances.
The chair scraped loudly against the floor as I walked away, fists clenched, heart splintering in my chest.
Behind me, I could still feel his golden eyes watching. Unmoving. Unapologetic.
And I hated him more than I ever had before. Not just for what he said-but for how much of it was true.
Third Person POV.
The night had left Meredith hollow. She had tossed in bed like a storm-blown leaf, haunted by Draven’s words that burrowed deep and gnawed at her resolve. Though her rage hadn’t vanished entirely, it had cooled into a low, seething simmer, coated in exhaustion.
When Madame Beatrice woke her at five sharp, Meredith blinked against the darkness. No apology. No warmth. Just business.
“Time to prepare,” the older woman had said, turning away before she could grunt a response.
And while she didn’t care much for the woman’s tone, Meredith hadn’t missed the one piece of unexpected news: Madame Beatrice wouldn’t be accompanying them to Duskmoor.
She didn’t celebrate, but in the end, she thought it was one less set of judging eyes around her and felt a bit of relief.
More surprising, however, was Madame Beatrice’s decision to appoint Azul as the head of Meredith’s maidservants. Considering how quickly the woman had rejected the idea before, the change of heart was odd and unexpected.
Still, Meredith didn’t question it. Maybe the Moon Goddess was trying to throw her a bone after last night’s disaster.
The sky outside was still cloaked in pre-dawn gray when Meredith stepped out with Azul and the four maidservants.
The air smelled of morning dew and something colder, heavier-like fate about to shift.
Five vehicles were lined up in the driveway: three sleek black sedans, a Maybach, and a Mercedes van that gleamed under the estate lights.
Wanda stood by the Maybach already, arms crossed, chin lifted in that way she always wore around Meredith. She didn’t speak, but the disdain in her narrowed eyes was public and unmistakable.
Meredith had noticed her stare and had returned the look with an inward scoff. Wanda was the least of her problems. So she thought.
Of course, the morning wouldn’t be complete without a side of hostility.
Then, like an unwelcome shadow, Draven emerged from the house with Jeffery at his side. All movement halted. Every servant lowered their head. Even Meredith bowed-though her fingers curled tight and her stomach twisted as she forced the motion.
Draven didn’t spare her a glance. Not even a flick of those molten gold eyes. Just the same blank pass-over he gave everyone else.
Cold. Detached. And infuriating. Like he hadn’t purposely upset her last night.
Draven’s voice cut through the morning quiet. “Let’s begin the journey to Duskmoor.
Immediately, Wanda saw her opening and wasted no time approaching Draven.
“Alpha,” she said clearly, raising a manila folder in his direction. “I have some thoughts on the murder case. It’s urgent.”
Meredith watched as Draven turned toward Wanda. Not warmly. Just enough to show he had heard. Then he gave her a subtle nod and gestured for her to get into the Maybach.
On the other hand, Wanda smiled-sweetly, triumphantly-and made her way to the Maybach, slipping into the opposite side with the grace of a woman who had just won her little game.
Meredith threw her gaze away.
Wanda had spent last night studying the murder case and all related cases just so she could get this opportunity to stop Meredith from riding in the same car with Draven.
Draven entered the car without a word. Then Jeffery peeled away from the group and approached Meredith with a small, respectful nod.
“You will be riding in the van, my lady,” he said. “With your attendants.”
Meredith forced a polite smile. “Thank you, Beta.”
The van doors opened. Inside, plush leather seats curved in elegant symmetry. The scent of clean leather and cool air conditioning welcomed Meredith in. A small flat screen blinked to life. The space was quiet, cozy-mercifully free of Draven.
She almost smiled for real.
Sliding inside, she buckled in as Jeffery had instructed. Azul followed with practiced efficiency, then the four maids filled in, each settling quietly.
Meredith leaned into the soft seat, letting her shoulders drop for the first time in hours.
Finally. A small taste of freedom.
Her thoughts flickered back to the night before. After storming away from Draven’s verbal assault, she had hidden in the bathroom for ten long minutes, breathing heavily, hoping he would leave. And he had.
When she finally returned to the room, Madame Beatrice and the maids were already packing her things into a single enormous travel case.
Plus, she hadn’t eaten a bite since then.
Now, strapped into the van and away from Draven’s piercing gaze, her appetite stirred like an awakening beast.
The convoy began to move-Draven’s Maybach leading the way with the Mercedes trailing just behind. Meredith parted the thick curtains beside her and looked out through the tinted glass. The Oatrun estate blurred past in dark silhouettes and stone walls.
Stormveil was behind her.
Then she wondered, ‘Would I miss it? My family? That cold, silent house?’
No. Yes. Maybe.
She wasn’t sure.
Next, she wondered if she could truly adapt to Duskmoor, its culture, its people, its rules.
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