The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 516

Chapter 516: Fuck The Betrayal

[Third Person].

Meredith woke with a violent gasp.

Her body jerked upright as if dragged by memory rather than muscle, her lungs burning as she sucked in air too fast, too shallow.

Then, a harsh cough tore from her throat, followed by another, and another—her chest spasming as phantom water flooded her senses.

Her hands flew to her neck, and the river rushed back into her mind all at once. Cold. Pressure. Something unseen pulling her down.

She gagged, coughing hard, water that wasn’t there stinging her nose, her ears, her lungs. Her whole body shook as panic took hold, breath turning erratic, eyes wide and unfocused.

"Meredith."

Draven was there instantly, having quickly finished buttoning up his shirt.

He was already on the bed before she fully registered movement, one arm wrapping firmly around her back, the other bracing her shoulders as he pulled her against him—solid, warm, unmistakably real.

"You’re safe," he said, voice low but urgent. "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

She clutched his shirt with trembling fingers as another cough wracked her body. Her head fell forward, pressing into his chest as she struggled to breathe through the terror clawing up her spine.

"I—" Her voice broke. "I couldn’t— I couldn’t get out—"

Draven tightened his hold, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head, anchoring her there.

He felt her shaking—felt how fragile she was in that moment, and something inside him cracked wide open.

"Hey," he murmured fiercely. "No. Don’t go back there. You’re here. You’re alive."

Her shoulders hitched, breath finally starting to steady, but tears spilled freely now. She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes glassy and red, her face pale.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone alone. I shouldn’t have— I should have—"

"Meredith." His voice cut through her spiralling guilt.

She shook her head, sobbing now. "This is my fault. I didn’t know there was something out there. I just thought to go for a swim... to have a moment alone. I thought I was strong enough and I— I scared you, I know I did—"

Draven closed his eyes for a split second: the betrayal, the secrets. The anger was still simmering beneath the surface.

All of it was there. And then there was this.

His mate shaking in his arms, coughing up fear and water that still haunted her body, alive only because he had reached her in time.

’Fuck the betrayal!’ he thought fiercely. ’I almost lost her.’

Then, he cupped her face gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Stop," he said, firm but not harsh. "Do not put this on yourself."

Her lips trembled. "But—"

"You were attacked," he said. "That was not your fault."

She searched his face, as if afraid he would take the words back. "You’re... you’re not angry?"

"I was terrified," he corrected quietly.

That did it.

Meredith broke down completely, pressing her forehead to his shoulder as quiet sobs wracked her frame.

Draven held her through all of it, rocking her slightly, one hand moving in slow circles along her back.

After a while, when her breathing evened out and the shaking eased, he shifted just enough to look at her again.

Draven noticed immediately, as he had not left her side again.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly, already leaning closer.

Meredith swallowed and frowned. "Better," she admitted. Then, after a pause, she added with mild frustration, "But... there is still water in my ears. And my nose. It’s uncomfortable."

Draven exhaled softly, relief flickering across his face. "That’s normal. It will clear with time."

She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary, studying his face as if anchoring herself to it.

Then her stomach growled. The sound was faint but unmistakable. She blinked, then sighed. "I’m hungry."

Draven huffed out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh. "I figured." He glanced toward the window. "You’ve missed lunch. And you’ve been in and out of sleep since..."

He didn’t finish the sentence. Before he could move, a soft knock sounded at the door.

"I will get it," he said, already rising.

When he opened the door, Meredith’s grandmother stood there, her posture upright despite her age, her white eyes unfocused yet knowing. Two servants accompanied her, carrying a covered tray between them.

They entered without ceremony.

The servants placed the tray carefully on a low stool near the bed, then stepped to the side with their heads bowed.

Meredith’s grandmother moved straight toward the bed. "Edith," she called gently.

Meredith turned her head. "I’m here, Grandma."

Her grandmother reached the bedside and rested a hand lightly on the mattress. "How do you feel?"