The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 634: Oppositions Arising (IV)

[Third Person].

The boutique doors opened before Wanda even touched them. She was greeted with careful politeness, though not with the same warmth reserved for nobles.

Stormveil still remembered her name, especially given her recent philanthropism.

"Welcome, Miss Fellowes."

Wanda inclined her head and was led to the VIP section upstairs—velvet chairs, crystal glasses, and private attendants.

Wine was poured, and seasonal gowns were presented one after another. Wanda examined them lazily, saying only a little.

She wasn’t really here for clothes. This was just a guise for a plan she was trying to execute smartly.

The door to the boutique opened again not long after, and Mabel Carter entered. "VIP," she said sharply to the attendant. "I don’t sit downstairs."

The attendant hesitated only briefly before gesturing towards the same private room Wanda was in.

Mabel stepped in and froze for a second when she saw Wanda. Then a faint curl of disdain touched her lips.

"Oh," she said lightly. "I didn’t realize this room was open to... everyone."

The jab was deliberate and well delivered. Wanda’s fingers tightened slightly around her wine glass, but she smiled.

"Yes," she replied smoothly. "It seems exclusivity is becoming more flexible these days."

Mabel hummed dismissively and took her seat, snapping her fingers lightly for attention. "I want the autumn silks brought in. And the original lace, not the local ones."

The attendants hurried to obey.

Mabel dominated the room effortlessly, issuing instructions, criticizing fabrics, and demanding that mirrors be adjusted.

Wanda watched quietly, offering a measured observation. Envy practically radiated from Mabel’s posture—sharp, brittle, insecure beneath the arrogance.

’Perfect!’ Wanda thought to herself.

Soon enough, the attendants excused themselves briefly to retrieve additional selections. The room quieted.

Mabel pretended to scroll through her phone while Wanda swirled her wine gently. Then, casually, Wanda said lightly, "You must feel very proud."

Mabel didn’t look up. "Of what?"

"Knowing your sister is the Queen of Werewolves," Wanda replied smoothly. "Despite having fae blood in her."

Instantly, Mabel’s head snapped up. "What?"

There it was. Genuine surprise.

Wanda’s lashes fluttered faintly as if confused by the reaction. "Oh," she said softly. "You didn’t know?"

Mabel stared at her, feeling both confused and annoyed. "Know what?"

Wanda leaned back slightly. "At the palace attack," she said carefully, "the Queen revealed her powers."

She let the words sit, then added, "Fae powers."

Mabel blinked rapidly. "That’s not possible."

Wanda tilted her head, studying her. ’Interesting. So the family truly didn’t know.’

Wanda thought that if Meredith was half fae and half werewolf, then her family would be the same. But given Mabel’s reaction just now, it only proved that Meredith was the only one who was that way.

Though Wanda was curious and wondered how that was possible, this was not her concern or priority.

"Everyone in the grand hall saw it," Wanda continued mildly. "The Alphas. The Elders."

Mabel’s expression shifted from disbelief to something darker. "Fae?" she repeated under her breath.

Wanda sighed lightly, as though reluctant to continue. "I suppose it explains why she was always different."

Mabel’s jaw tightened. "She deceived everyone."

Wanda shrugged gently. "I wouldn’t use that word." She paused, then added softly, "Though Stormveil was founded on werewolf blood."

Mabel’s fingers curled slightly over her phone.

"And the people?" Wanda continued in a tone of feigned concern. "They don’t always respond kindly to mixed legacies."

Mabel’s eyes flickered with jealousy and crafty calculation.

"In fact," Wanda said thoughtfully, "if the public begins questioning her legitimacy..."

She let the sentence trail off. Then quickly added, "Of course, that would be unfortunate. For your family."

Mabel’s pride flared instantly. "My family?"

Wanda’s expression softened sympathetically. "Well... if the Queen is not purely wolf, some might question the Carter bloodline as well."

The hook sank deeper.

Mabel straightened. "They wouldn’t dare."

Wanda gave a small, helpless smile. "Stormveil can be... traditional."

Silence thickened between them. Mabel’s mind was visibly turning, and Wanda didn’t need to push further. She had already planted the seed.

"Of course," Wanda added gently, lifting her glass again, "none of this concerns me anymore. I was merely stating the obvious."

Mabel studied her, then looked away. But her lips pressed thin, and her silence was loud.

The attendants returned just then with garments, and the atmosphere shifted back to luxury, fabric, and fittings.

Wanda selected two gowns with calculated calm, while Mabel demanded three more than she originally intended. Overcompensating.

When Wanda finally rose to leave, her purchases neatly packaged, she glanced once more at Mabel.

Mabel was no longer browsing. She was thinking.

’Very good!’ Wanda rejoiced inwardly. As she stepped out of the boutique, satisfaction warmed her chest.

She had not been direct with her manipulation. She had merely informed Mabel, knowing how much she hated her own sister and would use any opportunity to work against her.

If whispers started, they wouldn’t trace it back to Wanda. And Mabel Carter? She would handle the rest because envy needed no guidance. It only required a spark.

---

Mabel did not wait for dinner when she got home. She walked straight into the sitting room where Monique and Gary were arguing over something trivial, while their parents sat nearby.

"I have news," she announced dramatically.

Monique rolled her eyes. "If this is about another boutique discount—"

"It’s about Meredith."

That name was enough to quiet the room.

Gary leaned back. "What now? Has Her Majesty decided to throw a party for the market women again?" he said in a mocking tone.

"The news this time is even worse." Mabel’s lips curled. "She has fae powers."

Just then, a pause settled over the room before Monique spoke flatly, breaking the silence. "That’s ridiculous."

Gary barked a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

Their mother, Margaret, frowned. "Mabel, mind your words."

"I’m serious," Mabel insisted. "She revealed it at the palace during the vampire attack. In front of the Alphas and the Elders."

Their father, Beta Gabriel Carter, who had been quietly seated, finally looked up. His expression showed shock rather than outrage.

"No," he said quietly. "That is not possible."

"We are pure werewolves," Gary snapped. "All of us. Born of the same father and mother."

Mabel crossed her arms. "Then father, I think you should call someone who was at the palace during the vampires’ attack."