The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 575: Once I Spoke

[Meredith].

The car stayed steady, but his grip on the wheel tightened.

"How the hell did you do that?" he asked.

"I can invade the mind of even the most powerful wolves," I said calmly. "Unless I choose not to."

I paused, then added, "And I usually don’t. I respect people’s privacy. But you dared me."

Dennis burst out laughing. "You’re a badass," he said openly. "Moons, I wish I had your powers."

"You wish," I replied dryly.

He shook his head, still smiling. "I knew you became even more different after visiting your grandmother."

I didn’t deny that fact.

"You’re not an ordinary werewolf," he said. "That much is obvious. You have abilities even the strongest wolves don’t." Then, lightly, he added, "You might even be more powerful than my brother."

"Don’t say that again," I warned.

He shrugged. "It’s the truth, and you know it. Draven would agree."

I shook my head. Then, choosing to change the direction of the conversation, I inquired, "So, tell me, why are you looking for Helena?"

Dennis didn’t say it immediately.

The car hummed softly beneath us, the road stretching ahead, mangoes perfuming the air faintly from the trunk.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel again just a little, and this time, I didn’t need to invade his thoughts to know.

"She might be my mate," he said at last.

I turned fully toward him. I wasn’t surprised, though. I had thought about it and felt it too in the way his wolf had stirred, the way his attention kept drifting back in the market, and the way a single name—Helena—had rooted itself in his mind without permission.

"I think so as well," I said honestly.

His jaw clenched. "That’s the problem."

He looked like he had more to say, so I patiently waited.

"She glanced offended back then when I spoke to her," he continued, frustration creeping into his voice. "I didn’t understand why, but it’s been bothering me ever since. I had seen her standing next to one of the coaches, and had I approached her..."

I leaned back against the seat, then smiled as he went on to share the details of what had transpired between them on that day after my event.

"That’s because you didn’t see her," I concluded after listening to him.

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You never noticed her in the crowd," I explained calmly. "Not during the event when all the women were gathered. You only noticed her after everything was over—after she helped that elderly woman into the bus."

His brows knit together. He was still clearly confused.

"And then when you finally approached her," I added gently, "you asked her if she was part of the women who attended the event."

The car drifted slightly before he corrected it.

"...Moons," he muttered.

"That question alone," I continued, "was enough. To her, it probably sounded like you didn’t see her at all. Like she was just another face in the crowd."

The realization hit Dennis fully then, and he let out a slow breath. "So that’s it."

I nodded. "You didn’t offend her with cruelty. You offended her with ignorance."

He scoffed. "Women are impossible."

I laughed, actually laughed as my head tipped back against the seat.

"Oh, you have no idea," I said. "Congratulations. You’re stepping into the shoes of a mated wolf."

He shot me a wary glance. "Is that what my brother deals with?"

"Sometimes," I said sweetly.

The look of dread on his face was priceless. I chuckled to myself, warmth settling in my chest.

Somehow, it felt right. Helena, with her sharp eyes and quiet strength, was exactly the kind of woman who could match Dennis. Ground him. Challenge him.

"You know," I said, "if you want to find her again, I can help."

He looked at me so fast I nearly told him to keep his eyes on the road again.

"Really?" His voice lifted, unmistakably hopeful.

"Yes," I said. "But focus before you drive us into a tree."

He adjusted immediately, a sheepish grin returning at the corner of his lips.

"There are a few ways," I went on. "We can ask the women at the market. Someone will know her. Or—" I paused thoughtfully, "I can host another event. This time, sharing foodstuffs. If Helena learns about it, she will attend to assist the elderly women."

Dennis exhaled in relief, a real smile breaking through. "Thank you."

I waved it off. "I don’t mind. You are a good man, Dennis. You deserve your mate."

And strangely, despite everything weighing on me—Rosalie, secrets, crowns, bloodlines—I meant it.

Somehow, helping him find Helena felt like restoring balance.

---

By the time we returned to the estate, evening had already settled in.

The sky was deepening into soft hues of amber and violet when Dennis parked the G-Wagon out front.

Almost immediately, two servants hurried over, bowing before opening the trunk and lifting out the mangoes and herbs.

"Send everything to the kitchen," Dennis instructed casually.

As we stepped out of the car and walked toward the house together, something shifted. I caught it before I consciously realized it, Draven’s scent.

My steps slowed for half a heartbeat as my brows furrowed.

I reached for the matebond instinctively, barely thinking, and the answer came flooding back at once—steady, familiar, and present.

He was home.

My heart leapt with joy. "He’s back," I said aloud, unable to keep the excitement from my voice.

Then, I turned to Dennis, already pivoting toward the entrance. "Draven’s back. I’m going to see him."

"Hey—wait," Dennis called after me. "What about the sorbet?"

I waved a hand over my shoulder without even turning back. "Figure it out yourself. Or ask the servants."

There was no more reply from him. I didn’t need to look to know he was standing there, stunned, and probably offended too, but I didn’t care. Not even a little.

Right now, only one person existed in my world.

I moved faster at first, then I slowed. The warmth in my chest dulled as reality caught up with me.

Yes, Draven was back. But so were the truths I carried. Secrets that would fracture the image he had lived with his entire life.

A mother who was not mad—but dangerous, calculated, and hiding far more than memory loss. A bloodline that rewrote everything he believed about himself, and about Dennis.

My excitement drained into something heavier. My steps faltered, my pace easing as dread crept in quietly, insidiously.

I wanted to run to him. I wanted to bury myself in his arms. But I also knew that once I spoke, nothing would ever be the same again.