The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 578: Draven’s Wrath (II)

[Third Person].

Rhovan did not answer; he withdrew deeper into the recesses of his mind, silent and guarded.

That silence enraged Draven more than words ever could.

"So even my wolf kept it from me," Draven growled as he rose to his feet again. "Do you know what that makes me, Meredith? Not even fully one thing. Not fully wolf. Not fully anything."

His jaw tightened, and his hands flexed as he began pacing the room.

"I should confront my father," he said, the words sharp and impulsive. "Now. Tonight."

Meredith moved instantly, stepping into his path. "No," she said firmly.

Draven stopped short, eyes blazing. "No?"

"This is not the time," Meredith continued, forcing calm into her voice. "You are angry, and you have every right to be, but confronting your father now would be reckless."

He let out a harsh laugh. "Reckless?"

"Yes," she said. "Because you don’t have enough evidence. Not yet. And because your mother is still considered... unstable."

Draven’s expression darkened.

"If you confront him without proof," Meredith went on, "he can dismiss everything. Use her condition against her. Against you." She swallowed. "Or worse, he could decide she’s too dangerous to keep alive."

That last statement landed hard enough to stop Draven’s pacing.

For a brief moment, something like fear flickered across his face, not for himself, but for the woman who had just been revealed to him as more than he ever imagined.

His hands clenched again. "So what?" he snapped. "I’m supposed to swallow this? Endure it?" His voice rose. "Carry this—this illegitimate blood in my veins and pretend it doesn’t exist?"

Meredith opened her mouth, but no words escaped. She did not know how to respond to him—neither by lying nor by causing him more pain.

And that hesitation was all it took his temper to flare violently.

Power surged through him, wolf and vampire blood collided instead of harmonizing. His eyes darkened, pupils narrowing, and then his canines elongated unmistakably.

Meredith’s heart skipped from shock. She had never seen this side of Draven, never seen his control crack like this, even back in those days she used to provoke him to wrath.

Instinctively, she took two steps back, and that was the movement that snapped him out of it.

Draven sucked in a sharp breath, realization slamming into him as he felt his own fangs against his lower lip. His chest rose and fell as he forced the power down—forced himself back into control.

Slowly, painfully, his teeth retracted.

The room fell silent.

"I—" His voice broke off. He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at her, something raw and fractured in his gaze. "I need space."

Meredith didn’t move or try to argue with him. She was still trying to recover from the shock.

"Please," he added, quietly now. "If I stay here, I will explode. And I don’t want you anywhere near me when that happens."

She nodded in understanding.

Draven turned without another word and strode toward the door. It opened sharply, then shut behind him with finality.

Meredith remained where she stood, her heart pounding, the echo of his rage still vibrating in the room.

For the first time since learning the truth, she understood just how deep this wound went.

This wasn’t just about blood. It was about identity, belonging, and whether the man destined for the throne still believed he deserved it.

But Meredith was still very worried even after a few minutes had passed since Draven left.

The room felt wrong—too quiet, too heavy, as if his rage had seeped into the walls and refused to leave.

Her chest still felt tight from the moment his fangs had surfaced, from the raw, unfamiliar power she had sensed rolling off him.

She lifted a hand slowly and pressed it to her sternum, exhaling. ’That wasn’t just anger,’ she thought. ’That was him losing his footing.’

Draven had always been controlled. Even when furious, even when pushed, he had never let himself fracture like that.

What she had just witnessed wasn’t merely rage; it was identity collapse. A man discovering that the very thing he had built his strength upon was no longer solid beneath his feet.

And worse, it wasn’t just wolf anymore.

Her mind replayed the image unbidden: the brief flash of elongated canines, the way the air around him had shifted. Vampiric. Predatory. Unfiltered.

Meredith’s fingers curled into her palm as she concluded, ’He’s unstable right now.’

Letting him be alone suddenly felt like a terrible mistake on her part.

If he lost control again—if his emotions spiked and his blood reacted, what would happen?

What if someone saw him? A guard. A servant.

Anyone with eyes sharp enough to notice something unconventional. And Draven, in this state, wouldn’t care.

Meredith’s gaze darted to the door as she thought, ’Where would he go?’

Then, like a spark striking dry tinder, a memory surfaced. Dennis’s voice, casual, almost teasing, from earlier in the car—

"I’ve been going for runs every night."

Meredith’s breath hitched as she focused on those two words, Night Runs.

Her heart dropped.

If Dennis was out there and crossed paths with Draven now, in this condition, there was no telling what might happen.

Dennis knew Draven better than anyone. He would notice immediately if something was wrong. And Draven, spiralling and raw, might not bother hiding anything from him.

Or worse, he might lash out. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Meredith’s pulse spiked. ’No. This is bad.’

Draven also trained when he was angry. He ran when his head was crowded. And right now, his emotions weren’t just crowded, they were highly volatile.

Instantly, her gaze snapped back to the door. She didn’t stop to grab anything. She just yanked the door open and hurried into the corridor with urgency sharpening in every step.

’Please don’t be alone,’ she thought. ’And moons, don’t let Dennis run into you like this.’

With fear burning hot in her chest, Meredith broke into a run herself after she stepped out of the elevator into the hallway on the ground floor.