The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 303

303 The Story About the Scar

303 The Story About the Scar

Draven.1

I reached for the tissue box on the table, pulling one free and holding it out to her. “Here.”

She took it with a pout, blew her nose loudly, and shoved the crumpled tissue back into my hand. My brows

arched, but before I could react, she waved at the box impatiently. “Another one.”

Suppressing a sigh, I handed her a second. Then a third. She accepted them like commands fulfilled, her

movements careless, her words tumbling freer now, unguarded.

“What happened?” My tone came low, controlled, but my chest was a storm as every part of me focused on

her alone. “Why are you crying?”

Her head tipped against the sofa, eyes half–lidded, her voice a slur of frustration and pain.

“I just found out…” She hiccupped softly, then pressed the tissue to her cheek. “…why my siblings hate me so

much.”

The words froze me. My body went still, my eyes narrowing as I studied her.

“Tell me,” I urged quietly, my tone sharper now, though controlled.

Her gaze flicked to mine, glassy and unfocused, yet filled with raw hurt. “Mabel… she told me.”

Meredith swallowed hard, clutching the tissue in her fist. “She said… they hated me because our parents only

loved me. Because I was the favorite. The pride. The perfect one.”

Her lips trembled, her voice dropping to a whisper as though the words cut her even now. “She said I was

selfish, arrogant… that I didn’t even care about them.”

Her words stumbled into silence.

I clenched my jaw, heat rushing to my chest at the thought of Mabel’s venom. My gaze softened only when it

returned to Meredith, my wife.

She let out a broken laugh, half–sob, and half–bitter. “I didn’t even know, Draven. I was a child. How could I

have known?” Another hiccup. “And still they… they hated me for it. All these years.

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303 The Story About the Scar

Her hand lifted clumsily to wipe her cheek, missing her tear entirely.

I caught it in mine before she could try again, steadying her trembling fingers with my own.

I didn’t try to press her further. I stayed still, my hand covering hers, anchoring her as she slumped against

the sofa.

The tissues lay forgotten in her lap, damp and wrinkled.

A few moments later, she let out another shaky breath, her words tumbling out between hiccups.

“You know, all those years…” Her gaze flickered, unfocused, staring past me as though lost in another time.

“They–Mabel, Monique, Gary–they used to pinch me, hide my things, push me when no one was looking. I

thought…”

She gave a hollow laugh and continued. “…I thought it was just pranks. Siblings being strict because of the age

gap. They were so much older than me. I told myself that’s why they didn’t play with me. Why they pushed

me away.”

Her fingers curled against mine, trembling. “But today, when Mabel said it all… I realized how stupidly

innocent I was. I was too blind to see the truth.”

My chest tightened, a low burn sparking in my gut. Each word made it clearer. Her childhood hadn’t been

filled with harmless distance, but with cruelty disguised as silence.

Meredith’s breath hitched. “And my parents…” Her voice softened, quivering. “…before the Lunar Curse, they

adored me. They never let me out of their sight. I was everything to them. Their little jewel. Their pride.”

A small sob caught in her throat, and she pressed her knuckles to her mouth. “And then, the curse came. Just like that, they changed. Their love, gone. Their warmth disappeared. I became the shame they punished.”

Her shoulders shook. “Especially my father… goddess, Draven, the way he used to scold me and punish me for

things I didn’t do, as if I had brought the curse on myself.”

Her words dissolved into tears again, spilling faster this time. She pressed the tissue to her cheek, smearing

rather than catching them.

Meredith had just reminded me of back then when I had gone to pick her up from her father’s house. She had

looked homeless, like she had been left to spend the night locked up in a chicken shed.

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303 The Story About the Scar

And maybe she had been.

Instantly, I felt my jaw lock, the muscles in my neck taut as steel. Rage simmered beneath my skin, but I kept

it buried, kept my voice quiet, and steady for her.

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