The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 514: Do Not Return

[Third Person].

Meredith was hurled upward, breaking the surface in a violent gasp, coughing as air tore back into her lungs.

Her body shook, and her vision swam.

"Meredith!"

The voice reached her too late.

Her eyes found the riverbank just as the strength left her completely, and darkness closed in.

At the same time, Draven, who had reached the river at a full sprint, felt dread hollowing out his chest as his gaze locked onto the water.

"Meredith!"

He didn’t slow down or even show any hesitation. The next second, he plunged into the river, the cold biting hard as he fought the current, following the bond’s faint, flickering pull.

His hand brushed her fabric, then her hair, before he seized her and hauled her limp body against his chest.

"No—no—stay with me," he breathed, panic clawing at his throat as he kicked toward the surface.

He dragged her onto the riverbank, his hands shaking as he laid her down. Meredith’s skin was cold, and her lips pale.

"Meredith," Draven said again, his voice breaking as he cradled her face. "Please."

The bond pulsed weakly; it was barely still there. But Draven didn’t stop.

His hands moved instinctively, rhythm steady despite the tremor in his arms as he pressed against Meredith’s chest, then tilted her head to keep her airway open. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Water spilt from her lips as he breathed for her, his forehead resting briefly against hers between attempts.

"Come on," he murmured, voice rough. "Breathe, Meredith. Stay with me."

Her body was too cold. But just then—

"Edith."

The familiar old voice cut through the panic like a blade wrapped in velvet.

Draven looked up sharply. Meredith’s grandmother stood a few paces away, her walking stick planted firmly in the earth as two unfamiliar women flanked her, both silent, both tense with urgency.

She moved toward them without hesitation. "How is she?" she asked.

"Her breathing is shallow," Draven replied immediately, tightening his hold around Meredith as if the answer itself might steal her away. "She was pulled under. I—she isn’t responding."

Meredith’s grandmother nodded once, as if she had already known. Then she turned sharply to the two women. "Quick. Set the fire."

Draven barely registered the command as his focus returned to his wife’s face.

Behind him, the women moved quickly, gathering fallen wood and arranging it with practised ease.

Meanwhile, Meredith’s grandmother stepped closer to the water. She straightened her stance as she tightened her grip around her walking stick.

"How dare you," she said, her voice carrying—not loud, but heavy. "How dare you touch my bloodline?"

The river answered almost immediately.

Draven felt it before he fully saw it—the water twisting unnaturally, pulling into itself, swirling as if something beneath had been disturbed. The surface churned in a slow, tightening spiral.

Draven’s breath caught in his throat. He had never seen anything like this in his entire life.

Just then, Meredith’s grandmother lifted her stick. "Go," she commanded the river. "And do not return."

She struck the ground, and the sound cracked through the clearing. Immediately, the spiral surged outward like a retreating tide, racing downriver, the surface settling with eerie obedience.

Draven stared, still in shock. "What was that?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

She turned toward him then, walking back as the fire behind him flared to life without spark or flame, just the wood igniting as if it had always been waiting.

"A water spirit," she said simply.

"A... spirit," Draven repeated, disbelief threading his voice.

"They should not have been able to touch her," the old woman continued, her white eyes fixed on Meredith’s still form. "Not like this."

Draven’s jaw tightened as the answer came to him. "Her wolf wasn’t with her."

That made her stop and shift her gaze to him. For a moment, silence pressed in. Then she nodded.

"Yes," she said quietly. "That explains it." Next, she gestured toward the fire. "Bring her closer. She needs warmth."

Draven shifted carefully, lifting Meredith against his chest and moving toward the fire’s edge. Heat immediately kissed her skin.

He settled onto the ground, one arm wrapped securely around her waist, the other brushing her wet hair back from her face, thumb stroking her cheek, his fingers lacing with hers.

"Do you think she will be alright?" he asked with a low voice as worry consumed him.

Meredith’s grandmother lowered herself across from them with the aid of the two women, sitting steadily despite her years.

"She should be," she said, then closed her eyes.

Her lips moved in a soft murmur—words Draven didn’t recognize, syllables that made the air feel heavier, thicker, as if the space itself were listening.

A minute passed, then another.

"Alpha!"

Draven looked up and fixed his gaze on the new arrival.

Jeffery emerged from the trees. His face was pale, and his eyes sharp with alarm.

The moment he took in the scene—Meredith unconscious but breathing, the fire, the old woman, the two other women, his shoulders sagged with relief.

It turned out that Jeffery had felt Draven’s distress and had quickly come out to look for him.

Draven nodded once. Understanding that signal, Jeffery stepped back without further questions, positioning himself nearby, alert, standing guard.

Moments later, Meredith’s grandmother opened her eyes. Her sightless yet unerringly precise gaze found Draven.

"Take her back to the house," she said. "Give her a warm bath. Slowly. The cold reached her lungs. Heat will help drive it out."

Draven didn’t hesitate. He stood, lifting Meredith fully into his arms. Her breaths were shallow but steadier now.

Then, he quickly turned toward the trees.

Jeffery fell in step beside him immediately. "What happened, Alpha?"

Draven didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed on his wife’s face as he carried her through the woods, his hold firm, protective, and unyielding.

"Everything," he said finally.

Draven didn’t stop once he reached the house. The moment he crossed the threshold of their bedroom with Meredith limp in his arms, panic erupted around him.

Azul and Deidra, who had been arranging linens, froze for half a heartbeat before rushing forward.

"Luna—!" Azul gasped, her hands already reaching out.

"She is freezing," Deidra said shakily. "We can—"

"No." Draven’s voice cut through them, sharp and final.

They halted instantly.