The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 494: Meredith’s Grandma

************

Chapter FOUR HUNDRED & NINETY-FOUR: Meredith’s Grandmother

[Meredith].

"But she won’t be unsafe." Draven’s tone shifted to calm and certain. "Moonstone Pack is still under my authority. Madame Beatrice will keep her close and won’t let anyone get near her without permission."

I hesitated. "Even your father?"

Draven’s jaw tightened, just a fraction. "Especially my father."

That answer settled something in my chest.

I leaned back against the seat, exhaling slowly. "I just don’t like leaving her. Not after everything."

"I know," he said. Then, more quietly, "But you don’t have to carry that worry too. I won’t let anything happen to her."

I looked at him. He wasn’t promising for comfort’s sake. He meant it.

And somehow, that steadiness made the rest of my nerves resurface stronger. Because if he could protect everyone so confidently, then the truth waiting for him would hurt all the more.

I turned back to the window as the convoy pressed forward.

---

A few hours later, the three convoys slowed as we entered the village.

And immediately, I felt it—the shift in the air. It wasn’t dramatic, not something that could be pointed at, but it pressed softly against my skin, like the land itself was breathing.

The houses were spaced far apart, each surrounded by wide stretches of land, gardens, and trees that looked far older than Stormveil’s walls.

Nothing felt rushed here. Nothing felt loud.

As we drove through, people stopped what they were doing.

Their eyes followed us not with fear or hostility, but with quiet curiosity. It wasn’t the kind of staring I was used to. It felt measured, observant, as if they were noting us rather than judging us.

Draven leaned slightly toward me, his gaze fixed outside the window. "I didn’t know a place like this existed," he said softly.

My heart skipped. "Don’t expose it," I told him quickly.

I was afraid he might accidentally mention it to his father, who would, in turn, get interested. And then, my grandma and the others like her would have a hard time finding another place to call home.

Draven turned to me, surprised for only a second before smiling. "It’s not a big deal. I won’t tell anyone. I don’t want to disrupt the peace here."

Instantly, relief loosened something tight in my chest.

The convoys finally came to a stop near an open space bordered by several homes. As soon as we stepped out, the stares intensified. No one approached, but no one looked away either.

Dennis came up beside us with hands on his hips, clearly looking unsettled. "Why does everyone keep staring?" he muttered. "It’s uncomfortable."

Jeffery joined him calmly. "Isn’t it obvious? We are foreigners on this land."

Dennis narrowed his eyes. "That’s not enough reason when they are looking at us like they have never seen our kind before. Are they not werewolves like us?"

The moment his question reached my ears, my breath hitched.

Quickly, I turned towards him, ready to stop him from saying any more. And then I saw her.

She was walking toward us slowly, tapping a wooden walking stick against the ground. Her back was straight despite her age, her steps steady and sure.

Her eyes were open, but completely white, unfocused, seeing nothing of the physical world. Yet she walked directly toward me.

A younger woman followed a step behind her, watchful, ready to help if needed, but never touching her.

The moment I saw that familiar smile, my chest tightened.

"Edith," she called warmly. "My lovely girl."

I didn’t think twice before making a move. I crossed the space between us and dropped to my knees, wrapping my arms around her waist.

Her walking stick slipped from her grasp as she laughed softly and cupped my face with trembling hands.

"Edith," she said again, brushing her thumbs over my cheeks as if she were memorizing me. "You came back to me."

Tears burned my eyes. "I missed you," I whispered.

She leaned down and rested her forehead against my hair. "I know. I felt it."

Meanwhile, behind me, everything went quiet. I didn’t have to look to know they were staring.

"She is blind?" Dennis murmured somewhere behind me.

I stood slowly, still holding my grandmother’s hands, and then I turned to Draven. "Grandma," I said gently, "this is Draven. He is my mate. My husband."

Her warmth vanished almost immediately after I was done with the introduction.

Her smile disappeared as if it had never been there. Her fingers tightened around mine, just enough for me to feel it.

The air changed and charged.

Through the mate bond, Draven’s voice brushed my mind. "Does she hate me?"

I swallowed. "Yes," I answered honestly. "Prepare to be punished."

My grandmother lifted her chin. "So," she said calmly, "this is him."

Then she turned away and began walking forward without another word.

I moved to her side at once, guiding her gently, my hand tucked into hers as if no time had passed at all, while Draven, Dennis, Jeffery, Azul, and Deidra followed behind us in silence as the village watched us.

My grandmother’s house stood a little apart from the others—modest, low-built, wrapped in creeping vines and flowering plants that smelled faintly of herbs and rain-soaked earth.

The moment we stepped inside, a comfortable warmth enveloped us, the kind that sank into your bones and made you want to breathe deeper.

"You’ve grown thinner," she said as we walked, her thumb rubbing slow circles over the back of my hand. "Are you eating well?"

I smiled, guiding her gently around a low table. "I am. You know how it is—too much happening at once."

She hummed, clearly unconvinced but letting it go. "And Moonstone?" she asked. "Have you gone to see your family since you moved back to Stormveil?"

My smile didn’t falter, but something tightened in my chest. I shook my head lightly. "Not yet. I haven’t really had the free time."

She chuckled softly and patted my hand. "You don’t have to visit them if you don’t want to. I was only asking."

Relief washed through me. I nodded. "Thank you."

We entered the sitting area, and I almost smiled at the reminder of how different it was from the Oatrun estate.

There were no towering ceilings or cold stone walls—just woven rugs layered over wooden floors, low cushions instead of chairs, shelves filled with jars, books, and carved trinkets.

The air smelled faintly of citrus, incense, and something old I couldn’t name.

"Please, settle down," my grandmother said warmly.

Everyone did. Naturally, I sat beside her, close enough that our shoulders brushed.

Soon, a quiet group of unfamiliar servants entered with wide bowls of clear water. My grandmother spoke calmly, "Drink. It will help you feel hydrated after your journey."

We all exchanged glances.

Still, one by one, they lifted the bowls. I did too, taking a careful sip. The water was cool and oddly refreshing, as if it carried more than just moisture.

Then, without a hint of humour on her face, my grandmother added, "Be comfortable. I didn’t poison it."

Dennis nearly choked.

He burst into laughter immediately, loud and unrestrained. "That’s reassuring! I was just thinking—what a way to go, poisoned by grandma hospitality—"

Just then, I felt the sharp shift in the room before my grandma spoke.

"Child," my grandmother interrupted, her voice calm but edged, "you talk and tease too much."

Dennis froze for a moment. Next, he blinked, then looked at everyone else in the room, as if to check if they heard her, before shifting his gaze back to my grandma.

She turned her head slightly in his direction, though her white eyes saw nothing physical. "That," she continued, "is why you are not mated."

Instantly, silence fell like a dropped curtain.

Dennis stared at her, mouth opening and closing once before snapping shut. His shoulders stiffened, and for the first time since I had known him, he didn’t have a comeback.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

Beside me, my grandmother sipped her water serenely, as if she hadn’t just dismantled him with a single sentence.

---

[Third Person].

Dennis froze for half a second after the old woman’s words landed.

It wasn’t said with mockery or curiosity, but rather, just a simple statement, as though she were commenting on the weather.

His usual grin faltered, eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at her. He hadn’t volunteered that information. She shouldn’t know it.

Before he could dwell on it, Jeffery’s voice slipped into his mind, amused and unapologetic.

"Looks like you’ve finally met someone who leaves you with no choice but to listen. Congratulations."

Dennis snorted inwardly but didn’t deny it. For once, he had nothing clever to say back. Instead, unease crept in.

Meredith’s grandmother hadn’t guessed. She had known, and that bothered him far more than the jab.

Just then, his gaze flicked toward Meredith, seated calmly beside her grandmother, her posture relaxed, her attention entirely on the old woman as though nothing unusual had occurred.

"Did you gossip about me?" Dennis asked through the mind link.