Chapter 595

[ 1,052 words ]

[Third Person].

Dinner ended in a strained quiet.

Chairs shifted against the marble floor. Servants moved in and out swiftly, clearing dishes with lowered heads.

Draven and Meredith did not speak until they reached their bedroom and the door shut firmly behind them.

Draven loosened the collar of his shirt and took a step toward the balcony, but Meredith’s voice stopped him.

“Your father knows.”

He paused mid-step and turned slowly. “Knows what?”

“That I have a wolf.”

His brows drew together at once. “How?”

Meredith moved further into the room, her expression thoughtful rather than alarmed.

“I noticed he wasn’t worried, not even a little, when mentioning the council’s condition. He pushed you, yes, but he wasn’t anxious,” she revealed.

Draven remained silent, listening closely.

“At first, I thought he was plotting something worse,” she continued. “So, I listened.”

His eyes sharpened. “You read his thoughts?”

“I did.”

“And?”

She met his gaze steadily. “He was thinking that he wanted to see how long we would hold out before you would come clean, and I would reveal my wolf to the council.”

A long silence followed. Draven’s frown deepened as he processed it.

“But,” Meredith added carefully, stepping closer, “I didn’t sense any malicious intent.”

That gave him pause. “No malice?” he repeated.

“No. There was none directed at me. His plan felt rather strategic and calculated. But not destructive.”

Draven exhaled slowly and paced once before stopping. “When,” he muttered, “did he find out?”

Meredith’s thoughts drifted briefly before admitting, “I don’t know. He could have caught me on one of our early morning runs. But he knows.”

Just then, another worry surfaced in Meredith’s heart.

“What if your father also knows about my fae blood?” she asked.

Draven shook his head almost immediately. “That would not be his focus.”

She looked at him carefully as he stepped closer with a steady voice.

“My father is power-hungry. He will not harm you if you are useful to him.”

The bluntness did not offend her. It made sense actually.

“To be fair,” Draven continued, “it is unlikely he knows the deeper truth. If he knew you carry fae blood… or that your wolf is ancient… or that you are the reincarnation of the Wolf Queen—”

He paused for a moment before finishing, “He would not be this composed.”

Meredith knew he was right. Randall was many things, but he was not subtle when it came to consolidating power.

“If he knew that,” Draven added, “he would have already acted or tested you.”

Instantly, she released a slow breath, and Draven’s expression shifted from a less wounded son to a more calculating heir.

“We can use this to our advantage,” he said.

She tilted her head slightly. “Use it how?”

“He knows you have a wolf. Which means he knows the council’s condition is already fulfilled. Yet he isn’t revealing it.”

“Why?” she asked quietly.

“Because he wants control,” Draven answered without hesitation. “He wants to see how we manoeuvre this. He wants leverage.”

Meredith considered it. “So he shields us,” she murmured, “while pretending to pressure us.”

“Exactly.” Then, he reached out and gently cupped her cheek. “Someone like my father will never ruin his own agenda. If he holds knowledge of your secret, he will use it quietly.”

“And if he knows more than we think?” she asked.

Draven’s lips curved faintly. “Then he will not reveal it to others, rather he will try to control us with it.”

Almost immediately, the tension in Meredith’s shoulders eased.

Draven studied her face for a moment, then lightly patted her cheek. “You can sleep with your eyes closed tonight.”

She raised a brow. “You are that confident?”

“If worse comes to worst,” he said calmly, “and my father threatens to expose your reincarnation, I will threaten him with the truth.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Which truth?”

“That he fathered the next King with a vampire.”

Meredith straightened immediately. “Draven, the crown could be stripped from you,” she warned.

Draven’s expression did not change. He shrugged lightly. “Then it will be stripped.”

Her eyes widened.

“As long as he falls with us,” he finished coolly.

For a moment, she simply stared at him. Then, unexpectedly, she let out a soft laugh. “You are impossible.”

“And practical,” he corrected.

Without warning, he bent and lifted her into his arms.

A soft yelp escaped her before she could stop it, and instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her laughter followed a second later, light and unguarded.

He held her easily, as though she weighed nothing.

Her heart swelled at the simple gesture. No matter how heavy the politics, how dark the schemes around them became, moments like this reminded her exactly who they were to each other first—mate and partner.

Just then, Draven began walking toward the bathroom.

“We will continue pretending. Let father and the elders believe we are cornered,” he said calmly. “Pretending to be in the dark will favour us in the long run.”

“You are right.” Meredith agreed immediately. “The more confident they become, the less cautious they will be.”

A small smile tugged at Draven’s lips. Then, she tilted her head slightly. “When is the next council meeting?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “And I’m not particularly interested in finding out.”

She raised a brow at that, so he quickly continued, “It will likely happen when I call for it. When I decide what I want.”

Meredith smiled at his tone. That was the Alpha she knew.

As he pushed the bathroom door open with his foot, she said thoughtfully, “I am certain Randall and the opposing elders are in high spirits tonight. They must believe they have pushed us to the edge.”

Draven did not deny it. “Sometimes,” he said evenly, setting her down gently on the bathroom counter, “it is wise to create a mirage.”

She watched him, completely intrigued.

“Let your enemies believe they hold the advantage, and let them grow comfortable in it.” Draven’s gaze darkened slightly with intent, then he finished, “And when they stop guarding their backs, that is when you strike.”

Meredith’s smile deepened. “Then let them celebrate early,” she murmured.

Draven leaned closer, resting his forehead briefly against hers. “For now, we play along,” he said quietly.

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