Draven.
She hesitated.
I saw it—the flicker of resistance in her shoulders before Dennis whispered something that made her step down from the car.
Dennis lingered beside the open door, likely giving her some last encouragement, but my eyes never left Meredith. She walked toward me slowly, chin lifted, not a shred of apology on her face.
Unbelievable.
Even after vanishing without a word, after sending the entire estate into an uproar of panic—this woman returned looking like she had just been out picking flowers.
Her calm burned hotter than any insult.
When she stopped in front of me, I didn’t waste a second.
"On whose permission did you leave these grounds?" I asked, voice low but sharp enough to pierce bone.
Meredith’s gaze narrowed. "Do I need your permission now to move about?"
I breathed through my nose once, then twice. She didn’t even understand what she had done wrong. She didn’t know she had just undermined everything—my position, my authority, my peace of mind.
She left the estate without informing a single soul, not knowing the chaos she caused.
"Of course. You don’t know that much?" I interrogated.
She didn’t flinch. Her tone was harder now. "Then send me back. To Moonstone. To my father. I never asked to be here. You forced this marriage, remember?"
Something inside me snapped—tore like dry bark under a blade.
She spoke as if we were equals. As if she were a mate scorned, not a woman I had pulled from ruin. Her words tasted of entitlement, and yet she stood on a foundation I had built for her with my own hands.
"Do not push me, Meredith. Don’t." My tone deepened. "I have tolerated so much from you."
"I didn’t ask you to."
"Then I will stop!"
The words left my mouth before I realized they were mine. I had never meant to say that. Never wanted her to hear it. But there it was—raw and petty. She had reduced me, an Alpha, to this.
And still, she wasn’t done.
"You seem to have forgotten where you came from, and everything you went through," I told her, my voice iron-hard. "I’ve been patient with your behaviour—your defiance, your insolence. But if I reminded you of how you were treated back in Moonstone, if I stopped pampering you..."
I stepped closer.
"...you would be begging the Moon Goddess for mercy."
Meredith let out a bitter scoff. "Just admit it. You’ve been itching for an excuse to throw your weight around. To play Alpha. To act like every other animal who’s ruled with fists and abused me instead of using their conscience."
Silence.
My jaw clenched. My teeth ground together. I saw the faintest glint in her violet eyes, bold and unrepentant.
Unbelievable.
My anger was justifiable. But Meredith?
She didn’t have any right to be mad at me. She had belittled my authority hours ago and yet here we were. She had the guts to retort sharply at my words.
She compared me to them. As if I hadn’t done everything in my power to shield her from the very kind of tyranny she now accused me of embodying.
I let out a bitter, angry chuckle, running a hand through my hair before pinning my gaze back on her. "The others—your father, your old Alpha—, and the people in your pack—they treated you like dirt even when you were innocent of whatever curse from the moon goddess. Now tell me... what part of you today is innocent?"
She blinked.
And that was enough to know the question landed.
"If I truly treated you the way they did... if I responded to this disrespect the way I was trained to... would I still be the one without conscience?"
She didn’t answer.
Of course, she wouldn’t.
Instead, she turned—without a word—and tried to walk past me like this conversation was over.
I wasn’t done.
My hand shot out, fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist. I pulled her back.
"Not so fast."
Her skin was soft—softer than it had any right to be for a woman with such a sharp tongue. I felt the fragile bones beneath my grip, and for one dark second, I wanted her to feel exactly how much she had provoked me.
"Don’t even think about harming our mate," Rhovan’s voice warned coldly in my head. "Don’t."
I didn’t answer him. I didn’t let go either.
But then, Dennis’ voice pulled me out of that dark mode.
"Brother."
He had moved before I noticed, placing a hand gently on my shoulder.
I released her wrist.
Meredith stepped back immediately, rubbing her wrist with a wince. I saw the way her pale skin reddened beneath my hold. She had a bruise, no doubt.
Good.
Let it be a reminder of who she was dealing with.
I stared at her, letting every ounce of fury pour into my gaze. I had an intuition that she would want to rebel, so I said to her, "From now on, don’t miss mealtime. Anyone who doesn’t show up at the table will not be served privately. I won’t tolerate special allowances."
She glared back, then walked past me and ran into the house, her braid swinging violently behind her.
I didn’t feel any ounce of pity for hurting her. She owed me an apology, not the other way around.
"Brother," Dennis started, stepping beside me.
"Not now, Dennis."
I know he was going to try and take the blame for Meredith who got everyone worried and didn’t even care to inform her maidservants before leaving the estate.
"You were worried. That’s why you are angry," Rhovan said. "She left right after your argument this morning, and then disappeared. I understand."
Rhovan is completely hopeless.
Dennis tried again, matching my steps as we turned into the house and walked through the hallway.
"You shouldn’t have scolded her. She felt guilty already."
I stopped.
"Guilty?" I scoffed. "Is that what you saw in her face? Guilt? Because I saw fire. Insolence. A woman who spat in my face and dared to argue again two minutes ago."
"She was furious when I found her in the morning," Dennis conceded. "So, I took her on a ride which made her calm. Well, you ruined it all."
I started walking again, the echo of my boots filling the corridor and he followed immediately.
"Brother, you need to be careful of your temper. You almost broke her wrist earlier. She is going to resent you a lot."
"Better. Even better. At least she will be reminded of how much I’ve been holding back, and learn some manners while at it," I retorted.
He sighed deeply before asking, "Why did you two fight in the first place?" he asked. "What happened?"
"You took her out to ease her mind, and she didn’t tell you what she did?" I let out another harsh laugh.
Of course, that guilty woman knows what shame is.
Dennis blinked. "She didn’t."
I stopped again—this time, right outside my office door.
"Isn’t she your friend?" I asked him.
He nodded slowly.
"Then go. Ask your friend what she did."
I stepped inside without another word and shut the door.
I was done with everyone. For now.