The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 583: The Rest of the Story (II)

[Meredith].

"I was hiding in the woods when Randall found us. He was on a hunt. When he sensed me, he nearly killed me on the spot. A vampire, with a child no less."

A faint, bitter smile touched her lips. "I thought that was the end."

I waited, barely breathing.

"But he didn’t do it," she continued. "He stopped. He looked at Estella—so small, so fierce even then, and something in him shifted. He spared us and brought us back to his family’s estate."

I frowned. "Didn’t anyone suspect what you were?"

She shook her head. "No. Although I don’t know how he did it, Randall made sure that no one knew. He was very careful and very protective of me. He told everyone I was a widow from a fallen pack."

The picture was forming too clearly now.

"He courted me," Rosalie went on. "Slowly. Gently. He gave me security when I had none. Food. Shelter. Safety for my daughter. And he called it love."

My jaw tightened.

"When he became Alpha, he married me," she said. "Soon after, I had Draven."

At the mention of his name, something softened briefly in her eyes.

"But four years later," she said, and her tone darkened, "everything changed."

I leaned forward slightly.

"Randall began to starve me," she said plainly. "He restricted my access to blood. Wouldn’t allow me to hunt. Wouldn’t allow fresh game near me. I didn’t understand it then. He still doted on Draven. Treasured him. But me?" She let out a slow breath. "I was caged."

My stomach churned. "And then?" I asked quietly.

"When I discovered I was pregnant again," she said, "he became kind once more. Attentive. Generous. He brought fresh game himself. Visited me daily. Watched me like a prized possession."

A possession.

"Then, I fell ill," she continued. "I was weak and unable to perform my duties as Luna. I couldn’t stand beside him anymore. Couldn’t even play with my son."

My hands curled into fists at my sides.

"But he still trained Draven," she added, her voice sharpening. "Harshly. Ruthlessly. A pup barely four years old. I watched him come back bruised, exhausted... and I understood then."

"Understood what?" I probed.

Her eyes met mine—clear, lucid, and sharp. "He never loved me," Rosalie said. "He wanted what I could give him."

My breath caught in my throat.

"A child of mixed blood," she continued. "Power. Speed. Strength beyond ordinary wolves. That was his goal from the beginning."

The room felt smaller now.

"He used me," she finished. "Used my blood. Used my body. Used my children."

I didn’t speak. I didn’t trust my voice. My fingers tightened around the armrest as the weight of her words settled into my chest.

My heart ached for Draven, for the boy who had been forged into a weapon before he could even understand what he was. And suddenly, so many things made sense.

On the other hand, Rosalie fell silent, her gaze drifting away again, as if the memories had taken their toll.

"Why didn’t you take your children and leave?" I asked quietly. "Why stay?"

Rosalie let out a hollow, almost bitter laugh. "I thought of it many times," she said. "But Randall was smarter than I ever gave him credit for."

I watched her closely as she spoke.

"He blocked every path," she continued. "Watched me constantly. Guards. Servants. Even the woods beyond the estate. Everything reported back to him."

She paused, swallowing hard. "He only allowed me to see my children four times a month." Her voice softened briefly at their names. "Just enough to keep me alive. Never enough to give me strength."

My jaw clenched as Randall’s wicked calculations.

"And then," Rosalie went on, her voice lowering, "I lost my child. A son. It was a stillbirth," she said.

The word sat heavily between us.

"I was weeping," she continued, eyes unfocused. "Broken. And on that same day, Randall brought a week-old male child into my chambers." Her lips trembled with fury. "He told me to raise him as my own."

I stared at her, my heart pounding. "He tried to replace your dead child."

"Yes." She nodded once. "But I refused. I knew immediately. The child didn’t smell like me. Didn’t carry my blood. There was nothing of me in him."

My stomach churned.

"When I asked him why," she said, "why he wanted me to raise another woman’s child, he refused to answer."

Instantly, everything clicked into place with horrifying clarity.

"You refused him," I said slowly. "So he declared you mad."

She nodded. "He confined me to my chambers. Wouldn’t let me see Estella or Draven. Days turned into weeks." Her voice cracked for the first time. "When I couldn’t bear the separation anymore, I gave in and decided to raise that child for him."

"And then?" I asked.

"He took everything else," Rosalie said. "He stopped me from drinking blood. No fresh game. Nothing. When the hunger and pain became too much, I would scream. I would tell anyone who would listen that the child wasn’t mine."

Her eyes darkened. "Eventually, I stopped raising him altogether. That was when Randall threatened me with my own children." She inhaled shakily. "I didn’t see Estella or Draven for an entire year."

Rage burned in my chest.

"He branded me insane again," she continued. "This time, he locked me away in separate quarters. Away from the pack. Away from the world."

She fell silent, then lifted her gaze to me. "And when he became King," she said softly, "he did the worst thing of all."

I leaned forward. "What did he do?"

"He banished my daughter," she whispered.

My blood ran cold. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"Estella," Rosalie said. "He claimed she committed treason, stirred unrest and tried to divide the pack." Her eyes glistened. "I don’t know if it was true, but he never told me about it. He never let me see her for the last time. He sent her away without a goodbye."

My hands trembled. Randall was cruel and very strategic with his plans and punishments.

"I lost my mind after that," Rosalie admitted. "I destroyed things. I screamed. I fought." She looked at me calmly. "In the end, I chose to come down here. On my own terms."

I blinked. "You chose this?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Isolation was better than his games." A bitter smile touched her lips. "When Draven grew older, he came sometimes. With Dennis. Randall wanted them to believe he still cared for me—that I was the problem."

I saw it clearly now—the manipulation. The lie was crafted for his sons.

I steadied my voice before asking the next question. "Do you know who Dennis’s mother is?"

Rosalie shook her head. "No. I never saw her. Never heard of her before he brought the child." She hesitated. "I know she was a werewolf. Beyond that, I don’t know if she was Randall’s mistress or his true mate."

Right then, footsteps sounded faintly outside the door.

I leaned back in my seat slowly, my heart pounding. I had come seeking answers.

What I found instead was proof that Randall Oatrun was capable of sacrificing anyone—wife, children, truth itself—for power.