The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 450

Chapter 450: Whenever the Council Demands

[Meredith].

We took one more turn, the double doors to the dining hall coming into view.

Even before we arrived, the servants standing near the entrance straightened, bowing deeply.

If they noticed anything unusual, maybe my flushed cheeks, the faint fragrance of sex still clinging to my skin, no matter how hard I pretended otherwise. But at least they had the decorum not to stare openly.

But the moment I lifted my head again, Oscar Elrod was standing inside the dining hall, and he didn’t pretend.

He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing with an assessing, hawk-like precision usually reserved for threats, not for tired, freshly-bathed Lunas recovering from very enthusiastic lovemaking.

I almost tripped.

Oscar didn’t sniff the air like Dennis. He didn’t smirk or comment. He simply looked and knew. That was it.

Then his gaze flicked from me to Draven, then back to me, and then he slowly blinked.

As if saying, "You two really didn’t waste any time."

I wanted the ground to open and bury me alive.

Draven, of course, ignored him completely, his posture straightening as he walked me toward my seat.

Dennis peeled away to his side of the table, still humming smugly.

I sat at Draven’s right, smoothing my hair and willing my heart to calm down.

Not long after, Randall Oatrun entered. Everyone immediately stood and bowed, including Draven.

When Randall took his seat at the opposite head of the table, Draven sat down as well, and the entire atmosphere shifted to sober, formal, and controlled.

"Please, sit," he commanded.

We obeyed.

Oscar finally sat beside Dennis as well, his expression returning to the unreadable stoic mask he was famous for. But not before he gave me one last, subtle side-glance of amused judgment.

Wonderful.

Amongst us tonight, Jeffery was the only one missing.

Soon, servants hurried in, setting down platters of roasted elk, spiced vegetables, warm bread, and steaming bowls of bone broth.

I tried to focus on eating, keeping my breathing steady. But even in silence, I could sense the tension brewing.

Randall watched me for a moment too long, which Draven noticed.

His hand slid under the table and settled gently on my thigh—a silent reassurance, a promise that I wasn’t alone under his father’s scrutiny.

I exhaled quietly.

Randall finally shifted his attention to his son.

"Draven," he said with a firm voice, "there are still a few things left to discuss regarding the Elder’s curiosity and questions from the banquet. Like I told you, your answers satisfied some... but not all."

Dennis chuckled under his breath. "Since when do they ever get satisfied?"

Oscar kicked him lightly beneath the table.

Randall ignored them both and continued speaking to Draven.

"The Council of Elders never give up. Expect tighter interrogation."

Draven’s voice remained calm. "They are free to interrogate all they want."

Randall frowned. "Do not antagonize them."

"I’m not," Draven countered, still rubbing circles on my thigh. "But I will not bow just to soothe bruised egos. How many times do I have to make myself clear on this particular matter?"

The temperature in the room dropped.

Oscar leaned back slightly, watching Draven like he was evaluating every word.

Dennis looked impressed, but as for me, the pressure in the room was nearly suffocating.

Randall’s gaze flicked to me again. I immediately straightened in my chair.

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