The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 555: Helena

[Third Person].

Dennis stepped outside the house just in time to see the final proof he needed.

One of Wanda’s personal servants hurried forward, gripping the heavy bag of coins as Wanda stopped beside the waiting car. Without a word, she let the servant take it, then lifted her dress and slid inside the vehicle with stiff, clipped movements.

The door shut tightly, and the engine turned. The car rolled forward and disappeared down the long estate road.

Dennis exhaled slowly, the tension finally loosening from his shoulders. "Good," he muttered. "Stay gone."

He was about to turn back inside when movement near the front grounds caught his attention. Two large coach buses remained.

Servants were guiding the women and children aboard, helping with steps, lifting baskets, and calling out gentle reminders. Dennis scanned the scene absently until his gaze snagged on the second bus.

There, a young woman stood just beside it, one hand supporting an elderly woman as she carefully helped her climb inside. Her movements were patient, deliberate—not the brisk efficiency of a servant, but something warmer and personal.

Dennis frowned slightly as he concluded to himself, ’I have never seen her before. She is not our family’s staff.’

He found himself slowing then stopping altogether. For a moment, he just watched her back—dark hair neatly arranged, posture straight, presence composed.

Without quite realizing it, his feet carried him closer. It was only when his finger lightly tapped her shoulder that he registered what he had done.

The young woman turned, and they both froze. Surprise flashed across her youthful features—quick, sharp, unmistakable.

Dennis felt something, not loud or overwhelming, stir. There in his heart, he sensed a flutter in his chest. His wolf shifted, alert, curious.

Then the surprise vanished, and her face settled into a neutral, guarded expression, her brows drawing together slightly. "How can I help you, sir?" she asked.

Dennis blinked and straightened, regaining himself. Up close, she was striking—sharp features, intelligent eyes, composed in a way that made him take her seriously without knowing why.

But her neutrality gave him pause. ’Did I imagine that?’ he wondered. ’Was I the only one who felt... something?’

"Ah," he said, clearing his throat. "Were you part of the gathering this morning?"

The change on the woman’s face was immediate. A faint crease appeared between her brows, clearly showing her displeasure. Then she offered a small bow.

"Yes, Sir."

Dennis frowned inwardly, wondering what was wrong with his question. And what surprised him more was that she didn’t bother masking it—not for him, not even though she clearly knew he was a high-ranking wolf.

Before he could correct himself, two female voices called from inside the bus, "Helena!"

Her head turned instantly. "I’m coming," she replied.

’Helena?’ Dennis paused for a moment as he repeated her name in his mind, recognizing this was what she was called.

Just then, she glanced back at him. "Excuse me," she said politely—and then stepped up into the coach bus without another word.

The doors closed, the engines rumbled, and both buses pulled away.

Dennis remained where he was, staring after them long after they had vanished beyond the gates.

He replayed the brief exchange in his mind—the look in her eyes, the flicker he had felt, and the way his wolf had stirred.

Could she be...?

He shook his head sharply. "No," he muttered to himself. "If she were my mate, the bond would have slammed me in the face."

But it hadn’t. It had only whispered.

Still, a memory surfaced unbidden—Meredith’s grandmother telling him that he would meet his mate soon.

Dennis groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Great. Just great."

Exhaling, he turned and headed back toward the house with his chest still faintly unsettled and his thoughts tangled.

For example, he was thinking about where and how he could meet Helena again to confirm his doubts.

---

Meanwhile, Meredith sat at her workstation with quiet focus, the long wooden table neatly arranged with jars, cloth sachets, twine, and handwritten labels.

The faint, comforting scent of herbs filled the room.

Carefully, she measured the remaining healing balm into small containers, sealing each lid before sliding it aside.

Beside her, bundles of dried teas clearly marked for headaches and digestion were wrapped with practised precision.

Azul tied the twine with perfect symmetry. Kira checked the labels twice before stacking them. Arya counted softly under her breath.

Cora and Deidra worked together—efficiently, though their eyes kept flicking toward Mistress, their curiosity poorly hidden after just learning that she was gifting those remaining items to them and a few others.

"This is really thoughtful of you, Luna," Azul said quietly. "You didn’t have to do this for us."

"Yes," Arya added, smiling. "No one has thought of the servants this way."

Meredith glanced up, her expression warm. "It’s nothing," she said simply. "You all worked just as hard as I did for this event, if not more."

Deidra leaned her elbows on the table, grinning. "Just nothing, she says. I bet there is more coming."

Cora’s eyes lit up. "Oh, definitely. ’This is nothing’ means there is something better. Isn’t there, Luna?"

Meredith only smiled, tying off another bundle. "You will see soon enough."

Deidra gasped dramatically. "Soon? How soon?"

"Soon," Meredith repeated calmly.

Cora squinted at her. "You are not telling."

"No."

"You are immune to interrogation, Luna," Deidra muttered.

Meredith chuckled softly, clearly enjoying herself. "You will just have to wait."

Their laughter filled the room, light and genuine, the tension of the day finally easing.

---

Elsewhere in the estate, Draven stood before Madame Beatrice. His posture was rigid, his expression dark with restrained anger.

"How," he asked evenly, "was Wanda allowed to reach the back gardens without being stopped?"

Madame Beatrice lowered her head slightly. "That is my failure, Alpha."

"I do not accuse lightly," Draven said. "But this should not have happened."

She nodded once. "You are correct. I will address it."

His tone softened just a fraction. "You have served my family faithfully for years. I trust you to handle this."

"You have my word," Madame Beatrice replied, and she was dismissed moments later.

Her steps were brisk as she moved through the servants’ quarters, retrieving the duty roster for the event. Names were marked. Assignments reviewed.

One by one, she summoned those stationed inside the house and began to interrogate them.

"I saw Miss Fellowes walking toward the back," one servant admitted quietly. "But there was no instruction to stop her."

Another added hesitantly, "She has always had freedom in the estate for years. We didn’t think—"

Madame Beatrice closed her eyes briefly. She knew they were not wrong, but that did not matter now.

"I understand," she said coolly. "But understand this in return—the Alpha’s word is law." She straightened her back. "You failed to exercise judgment."

The servants bowed their heads.

Punishments were assigned—measured, firm, unquestionable.

As Madame Beatrice walked away to ensure they were carried out, her expression remained stern as she thought that promises to an Alpha were not broken, and neither were lessons left unlearned.

---

By the time the last jar was sealed and the final knot tied, the workstation was spotless again.

Meredith straightened, brushing her hands together lightly as she surveyed the neatly arranged packages. Satisfied, she turned to her maidservants.

"Cora," she said gently, "please go and fetch Madame Beatrice for me."

"Yes, Mistress," Cora replied at once, already heading for the door.

Meredith then reached beneath the table and brought out five smaller bundles—wrapped more carefully than the others, each tied with a thin ribbon. She picked one up and turned to Azul first.

"For you," Meredith said, handing it to her.

Azul blinked, then accepted it with both hands. "Thank you, Luna."

One by one, Meredith did the same for Kira, Deidra, and Arya. Deidra peeked into her bundle and grinned. "You really spoil us."

"You deserve it," Meredith replied simply.

A moment later, Cora returned, slightly out of breath. Meredith handed her the remaining bundle personally.

Cora’s face lit up. "Thank you, Luna." Then, lowering her voice a little, she added, "Madame Beatrice is on her way. And... I heard some servants are being punished."

Meredith’s brows knit. "Punished? For what?"

Cora shook her head. "That’s all I know."

Before Meredith could press further, footsteps approached. Madame Beatrice entered the room and bowed respectfully.

"My Luna."

Meredith gestured toward the neatly packaged teas and balms on the table. "Please distribute these among the servants who helped prepare today’s event."

Madame Beatrice nodded, visibly touched. "Thank you, Luna. They will be grateful."

Meredith hesitated, then asked calmly, "I was told some servants were being punished. May I know why?"

Madame Beatrice did not evade the question. She explained that it was about Wanda moving freely in the house and the lack of intervention from the servants.

"It was Alpha Draven’s wish," she concluded quietly.

Meredith nodded, absorbing it. "Is my lunch ready?" she asked after a moment.

"Yes, Luna."

"Good." Meredith left the workstation and headed toward the small dining area, her steps unhurried.

As she walked, a thought lingered in her mind—whether the punishment was also Draven’s way of apologizing to her and of ensuring that what happened today would never happen again.