The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 300

Chapter 300: The Real Reason They Hated Me

Meredith.

After training with Draven and eating breakfast the next morning, I decided to take Deidra with me into the garden.

The flowers in my vase upstairs had already wilted, and instead of letting the maids do it, I wanted to pick new ones myself. There was something more satisfying about it.

So, we strolled between the rows of blooms, sunlight slipping through the leaves, while Deidra carried the basket and I cut the stalks I liked best.

When we were done, I turned to her, "I want to grab some herbs as well, the kind that freshens the air."

Her lips curved immediately. "My lady, you want to add herbs to the flowers?"

"Yes," I said, scanning the rows. "If I can find the right one, that will be better."

There were too many pots to check one by one, and it would take so much time, so I closed my eyes and breathed in. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Almost immediately, a sharp, clean scent cut through the others, and I followed it until I found what I wanted.

"Here," I said, pointing. "There is only one type here. But back home in Stormveil, there are always more varieties to choose from."

Just then, Deidra crouched to take a look at the herbs from a closer range. "At least we found one."

I agreed with her. Then I plucked a few leaves, the much I wanted, and dropped them into the basket.

Finally, we headed back towards the house.

On the way, Deidra asked the question I knew had been on her mind, and the others, for days.

"My lady, do you know the real reason the Alpha sent Miss Fellowes back to Stormveil?"

The corners of my lips curved into a small smile. "Wanda betrayed him. I heard she gave information to her father, then Draven found out about it, hence, the reason he sent her away."

Deidra let out a quick laugh. "Good. That woman was too evil and mean, always throwing her weight around."

I didn’t bother adding anything. I wasn’t in the mood to talk about Wanda. And besides, this was a still morning. I would not entertain any topic that would ruin my mood in the long run.

---

At the sit-out, Deidra set the basket on the table. Then, I started cutting stalks shorter for the vase while she went to fetch some water.

I worked in the silence for some time, the snip of scissors keeping rhythm until I heard Mabel’s voice close by.

"She thinks she is smart," she said, her tone laced with amusement, followed by a chuckle. She

I stilled for a second, the scissors halfway through a stem, still in my hand as my eyes flicked toward the open walkway. My pulse didn’t race, but every part of me went alert.

Mabel sounded like she was mocking someone. The edge in her tone made my skin prickle, and I couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was talking about me.

A moment later, she stepped into the sit-out, a little smile tugging at her lips. Her phone was lifted in her hand, tilted just enough for me to know she was on a video call.

Then our eyes met.

"Oh, Meredith is here," she said lightly, as though I had just walked into her room instead of her walking right into my own space.

Then she turned back to her phone. "Seems like she is busy."

From the device, a voice I knew all too well replied, smooth and commanding: "Let me see her."

Mabel didn’t hesitate. She flipped the phone so the screen faced me, and there she was.

Monique, our elder sister.

Her face filled the screen, sharp and beautiful as ever, with that same an unreadable, part smile, and part judgment.

For a heartbeat, I gripped the scissors tighter. But the next moment after I stilled myself, I turned my eyes back to the flowers on the table.

I had no interest in greeting her, not any interest in pretending we were still sisters when every one of them had treated me like an enemy all my life.

I clipped another stalk cleanly, deliberately ignoring the way her gaze bore into me from the screen.

"Meredith."

Mabel’s smirk finally cracked as her entire face twisted into fury. She lowered the phone in her hand and burned her gaze through me.

"You know what, Meredith?" she snapped. "This attitude of yours, this silence, this arrogance—is exactly why we don’t treat you well."

My scissors stilled in my hand as I met the raw anger etched across her face. And for the first time, I wanted to understand what exactly she meant.

Mabel leaned forward slightly, her voice sharp. "Have you ever sat down and asked yourself why? Why are you the one everyone hates? Or did you think we just woke up one morning and decided to hate on you?"

I didn’t answer her question. My chest tightened slightly as she pulled me down memory lane, but I forced my expression to stay calm.

She scoffed at my silence and shook her head. "Or did you really believe it was because you were cursed? Because you were wolfless? That’s why you thought your own blood began to pick on you?"

Her words hit harder than I expected as my fingers tightened around the scissors.

All these years, that had been my conclusion, that the curse, the mark of shame on me, had poisoned not just my parents’ love but my siblings’ as well.

But the way Mabel’s voice cut, plus the anger in her eyes, didn’t feel like she was lying.

I narrowed my eyes slightly at her and studied her, searching for even the faintest sign of deceit. But there was none.

For the first time in years, doubt gnawed at me. Maybe I had been wrong about why my own siblings hated me. Maybe it wasn’t the curse after all.

And that realization unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.

"You want to know the real reason we hated you?" she said, her voice trembling with anger.

My heart skipped as everything inside of me braced for the truth.

Her lips curled into something bitter. "It was because once upon a time, you were the star. The brightest of us all. The beautiful, intelligent, perfect little Meredith everyone adored." She spat the words as if they were poison in her mouth.

"Our parents couldn’t see anyone else but you. You were their pride. Their little treasure."

I blinked as my throat tightened.

She pressed on, relentless. "Do you know what it felt like? To be invisible in your own home? To have our parents scold us for every little mistake, while you—"