The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 499: The Choice was Mine

[Meredith].

"I was just going to get some air," I said softly.

Draven frowned, pushing himself up on one elbow. "At this hour?"

Valmora bristled immediately, as if she knew I might not be able to hold back from him. "You cannot and must not let him leave this room with you."

I hesitated only for a second before letting the words leave my mouth, calm and sincere.

"Please," I said quietly, meeting his gaze. "Can you do me a favour and sleep soundly tonight?"

There was no force or command in my voice, just a gentle tone, wrapped in trust.

Draven searched my face, something unreadable passing through his expression. Then he nodded once.

"Alright."

The next moment, his head sank back onto the pillow too quickly. His breathing deepened instantly, slow and even, the weight of true sleep settling over him as if a switch had been flipped.

I stared at him as my heart began to pound. ’Did he... just listen? Or did I do that?’

Valmora was silent now, watching everything.

I swallowed, pushing the thought aside before panic could take root. I rose quietly, pulled a shawl over my shoulders, slipped my feet into my slippers, and crossed the room without another glance back.

The hallway was empty. The house slept. But outside, the night was alive.

The air was cool, fragrant with earth and night-blooming flowers. The full moon hung low and immense, bathing the clearing in silver. Shadows stretched long across the ground, soft and reverent.

She stood there waiting for me.

My grandmother held her walking stick in one hand and a small lamp in the other, its warm glow flickering gently against the pale moonlight.

Her silver hair was drawn back into a simple bun, secured with a wooden hairpin I remembered from my childhood. Her white eyes were open, unfocused, yet I felt her attention settle on me the instant I stepped closer.

"You are here," she said softly.

"Yes," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Valmora stirred again, reverent now. "This is the moment."

I tightened my shawl around myself as I approached my grandma, the night humming with something ancient, patient, and inevitable.

"Let’s go," she said to me.

I walked beside her in silence at first, the soft crunch of earth beneath our feet the only sound between us.

The lamp in her hand swayed gently with each step, casting warm arcs of light against the tall grass and ancient trees.

My chest felt tight.

"Grandma," I finally asked, unable to hold it in any longer, "where are we going?"

She didn’t stop walking. "Not far away."

That answer did little to calm me. If anything, it made me more nervous. I was dying of curiosity here, and the answers were not forthcoming.

The path narrowed, the trees thinning until the land opened into a wide clearing bathed entirely in moonlight. I slowed instinctively, and then stopped altogether.

To my surprise, there were others there.

Women stood scattered across the clearing, some older, some younger, all quiet, all watching me with knowing expressions which didn’t feel hostile.

Their hair caught the moonlight strangely, too pale, too luminous. Their presence felt layered as if they existed both here and somewhere else at once.

My breath hitched. Then, I leaned closer to my grandmother. "Who are they?"

She turned her head slightly toward me, her white eyes reflecting the moon. "Faes."

The weight of that settled slowly. ’Fae.’

My heart began to race in dawning realization. I had always known about her. I knew what she was, and the others in this village. But now seeing the others here, made something inside me tremble.

The women shifted, forming a loose circle without being told to. The air thickened, humming faintly, like a held breath.

My grandmother stopped at the centre of the clearing and turned to face me fully.

"This is where the truth begins," she said softly.

I swallowed, trying to confirm one more time. "About my curse?"

"Yes, and no." She nodded once. "I told you there was something beyond it."

Then she reached out, retaking my hands, grounding me the way she always had. "What you were told was a curse was never meant to harm you, Edith."

My brows knit together. "But I suffered because of it, the pain. Losing control—"

"I know," she said gently. "And I am sorry."

’Sorry?’ My heart skipped.

"The Lunar Curse like you and everyone else thoughy," she continued, "was not a punishment. It was a restriction. A seal."

Instantly, my breath caught sharply. "A... what?" I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

"A safeguard," she said. "Placed by us."

The clearing felt like it tilted. "You—?" My voice cracked. "You did this to me?"

Her grip tightened, firm and steady. "To protect you."

My pulse roared in my ears and for a moment, that was the only sound I could pick up.

My grandma took a slow breath, as if choosing each word with care. "When you were born, I saw it immediately. The power in you. The soul you carried."

My skin prickled.

"You are not merely gifted, Edith," she said. "You are the reincarnation of the Wolf Queen."

Though Valmora had already revealed this to me still, the world went quiet around me. It felt so different hearing that once again, especially with the added revelations about me unfolding.

I laughed weakly, the sound hollow even to my own ears. "That’s... that’s not funny."

But no one laughed with me. The women in the clearing lowered their heads instead.

My grandmother’s face remained calm and resolute. "Your power was too vast. Too volatile. If it had awakened fully while you were still young and immature, while your heart was untampered, it would have destroyed you. Or drawn enemies to you long before you could defend yourself."

My knees felt weak as I completely understood. "So you sealed my wolf," I whispered. "You made everyone believe I was cursed."

"Yes."

The word was simple and final, but something inside me shattered.

Relief washed through me first—sharp and overwhelming. I hadn’t been broken. I hadn’t been wrong. There had never been something twisted inside me after all.

But right behind it came grief.

All the years I had hated my own body. All the nights I had feared the moon. All the pain I had endured believing I was defective.

The next moment, tears blurred my vision. "You hid it from me," I said hoarsely. "My entire life."

"We had to," she replied softly. "If you had known, the truth would have echoed through you. Through your bond. Through fate itself. Secrets like this do not stay contained."

Then, I thought of Draven. Of Valmora, and of the way my mark had been fading.

"So... I wasn’t cursed," I whispered again, as if saying it aloud might finally make it real.

"No," she said. "You were protected."

I pressed a hand to my chest, struggling to breathe through the storm of emotions ripping through me—anger, gratitude, sorrow, disbelief, and wonder.

"And now?" I asked quietly.

My grandmother smiled a small, knowing smile.

"Now," she said, "the seal has weakened on its own because you were ready. Because you chose love. Because you found your mate."

The moonlight seemed to pulse, brighter than before.

"And tonight," she continued, "you will decide whether to finish what we began and step fully into who you were always meant to be."

Valmora stirred deep within me, no longer restless.

I lifted my gaze to the moon, trembling, my heart pounding with fear and awe intertwined.

All this time... I had never been cursed. I had been waiting.

The air pressed against my skin, heavy and alive, as if the night itself had leaned closer to listen.

Just then, my grandmother slowly released my hands, as if letting go of something fragile.

"You are not being forced," she said quietly. "This choice has always been yours."

My throat burned. For once, I had a choice over who I wanted to become.

All my life, everything had been done to me. The curse. The rules. The limits. The fear. Now suddenly, the weight of deciding for myself felt heavier than any chain they could have placed on me.

"What happens," I asked, my voice barely steady, "if I don’t do this?"

The women around us remained silent. The wind brushed past my bare arms, calm and patient.

My grandmother did not lie to me. She never had.

"Then the seal will remain," she said. "Your power will continue to wake in fragments. Unstably, and Painfully, especially for the final stage. Though you will survive, but never fully live as what you are."

My chest tightened. "And if I do?"

Her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Then there will be no more restrictions."

The word echoed inside me. No more restrictions.

I thought of the mark on my shoulder—how it had burned, how it had ruled my life, how I had learned to fear the moon instead of honouring it. Then I thought of every time I had been told to endure, to hold back, to be careful.

I thought of all the times I was shamed and looked down on.

Lastly, I thought of Draven, of how I had already bent fate by loving him. Of how my power had begun to answer me instead of fight me.

My hands curled into fists at my sides. "What do I have to do?" I asked.