The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 347

Chapter 347: Outsmarting Meredith

Draven.

"You should have seen him, Brother." Dennis leaned back in his chair, arms folded, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"One hit to the ribs, another to the gut, and Gary folded like wet parchment. The men laughed so hard I thought they would choke on their own breath. He will think twice before strutting onto our training grounds again."

I didn’t smile, though the satisfaction stirred deep in my chest. ’Good. Gary needed to learn a few lessons.’

But before I could speak, Rhovan’s voice cut across my thoughts. "Our mate is coming."

I stilled. Then I heard it—first the rhythm of her heartbeat, steady but quickened, then the faint sound of footsteps on stone.

I cut Dennis off mid-laugh. "Brackham must be in a good mood wherever he is right now," I said smoothly, voice shifting without pause. "Thinking he has gotten what he wants."

Dennis blinked, confusion flashing across his face. Then, to his credit, he caught on instantly and leaned forward.

"Hah. A good mood, yes. That old fox probably thinks his little stunt makes him clever."

Three heartbeats later, Meredith appeared with a large bowl of fruit balanced in her hands and a small smile that softened her lips.

I rose slightly and reached out a hand. She placed the bowl on the table and slid closer, taking my hand as she sat by my side.

I draped my arm around her shoulders and drew her in without a second thought.

Her violet eyes flicked between us. "What were you two discussing?" she asked lightly.

I brushed my thumb along her shoulder and leaned back, my tone smooth and casual. "We were talking about Brackham. I imagine he is somewhere right now, smiling into his glass of whiskey, thinking that he has finally gotten rid of the vampires."

Meredith tilted her head slightly, listening.

I let a faint smirk play on my lips. "He’s probably enjoying himself too much to realize the storm that is brewing under his nose. Short-sighted men always drink hardest before the ground splits beneath them."

Dennis gave a sharp laugh, picking up the thread without hesitation. "Hahaha, I can picture it. Feet up, smug grin, thinking he is untouchable. Won’t that be a sight when the storm hits him where it hurts?"

Meredith’s lips curved into a small smile as she reached for a piece of fruit from the bowl, but her eyes lingered on me a beat longer than necessary. Watching. Weighing.

I gently squeezed her shoulder and drew her nearer, as if to dispel the doubt, while she popped the fruit into her mouth.

"Enjoy your fruit," I murmured. "Men like Brackham always believe they have won, until they are drowning."

Then, she plucked another grape from the bowl, her fingers brushing the stem with deliberate grace. Without a word, she held it up to my lips.

I arched a brow but parted my mouth, letting her place it on my tongue. Sweetness burst against my teeth, but not as sweet as the small, knowing smile playing on her lips.

Dennis snorted. "Moon above, are we doing this now? Feeding grapes like doves in spring?"

Meredith only tilted her chin, her eyes glinting. "If you are jealous, Dennis, I could feed you one as well."

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