The Moon Goddess 383_The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven

383 Against Her Lips

 Draven.?

 The moon hung low and pale above the trees, its light spilling across the balcony floor like silver smoke.

 While the city below was subdued under curfew, the silence up here was steady and almost deceitful.

 I stood by the railing with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a half–filled ss in the other. The wind brushed against my skin, cool and sharp, tugging faintly at my shirt sleeves.

 I had lost count of how long I had been out here. Maybe an hour. Maybe more.

 The first burn of whiskey down my throat did little to chase away the thoughts. They came anyway—one after another. The war. Brackham. The vampires. And now… Alderic.

 “He’s old, Draven,” Rhovan’s voice rolled quietly in my mind, deep and steady. “You’ve known for a while this day would </ie.”

 “I know,” I said aloud, staring at the horizon. “But knowing doesn’t make it easier.”

 Silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft clink of ss as I swirled the amber liquid.

 “I’m not ready,” I admitted quietly. “Not for the throne.”

 Rhovan’s growl was low, out of challenge. “You were born ready. You just refuse to see it.” 

 I huffed a faint breath, half amusement, half resignation. “If I were truly ready, I wouldn’t still be here fighting human greed. I’d have ended this years ago.”

 “You’re not fighting for power,” Rhovan reminded me. “You’re fighting for bnce. For our kind. You’ve done what no one else could. You brought peace where 

 there was none.” 

 “Peace?“I echoed bitterly. “There is nothing peaceful about blood running through streets.”

 Rhovan didn’t respond immediately. When he did, his

 tone had softened.

 “You’re not the boy who once feared leadership. You’ve 

 carried kingdoms on your shoulders since the day you came of age. Alderic’s sickness doesn’t change that. It only means the world will soon demand more from you.” 

 I rested my elbows on the railing, eyes tracing the thin mist that hovered above the distant woods.

 “I just wanted more time. Time to rest. To breathe. To spend with her for a while… before everything 

 changes.”

 “Our mate has given you strength, not distraction,” he said. “She grounds you. She reminds you of what you fight for.”

 I took another drink, the words settling heavy in my chest. “Still, I don’t want this now. Not yet.”

 “He will live a while longer,” Rhovan murmured. “A few more months, maybe more. That’s more than enough time to finish this war and return home to rest. And 

 then stand beside the throne as the next in line.”

 I closed my eyes for a moment, letting Rhovan’s certainty sink in, though it did little to soothe the unease twisting in my gut.

 Then, a softer sound broke the quiet–the click of the ss door behind me.

 I turned slightly.

 Meredith stepped out onto the balcony, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders, the golden silk of her robe catching the moonlight.

 The scent of vani and wild jasmine drifted toward me, washing over the tension that had held me captive all evening.

 She didn’t say anything at first. Just came to stand beside me, her bare feet silent against the cold stone.

 “Whiskey?” I asked, holding up the ss.

 She smiled faintly, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “If I take it, will you share your thoughts too?”

 I looked down at her–at the faint shimmer of her eyes beneath the moonlight, the quiet understanding that always seemed to cut through my walls.

 “Maybe,” I murmured, handing her the ss.

 She took it, her fingers brushing mine–warm against

 the chill of the night. She took a careful sip, and immediately her face twisted.

 “Moons,” she coughed softly, pressing the back of her hand to her lips, “it burns.”

 I couldn’t help the faint smirk tugging at my mouth. “It’s whiskey, love. It’s supposed to.”

 She shot me a mock re, her cheeks tinged pink from the heat of the drink. “Then I don’t know how you enjoy it. It feels like swallowing fire.”

 “Fire helps you remember you’re alive,” I murmured, taking the ss from her hand. “But I will admit, it’s not made for everyone.”

 “Not for me,” she said with a smallugh, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Then, softer, “You’ve been

 out here for a while. Thinking about tomorrow?”

 I hesitated, my eyes wandering back to the horizon. “Not just tomorrow.”

 She turned slightly toward me, her robe whispering against her skin. “Then what?”

 For a long moment, I didn’t answer. The night air was cool, scented faintly with pine and stone. Then I said quietly, “King Alderic.”

 Her expression sobered immediately. “Is his sickness

 that serious?”

 “Yes. My father says it’s been a week, and the healers are of no help,” I exined further.

 She touched my arm gently, her concerned gaze peering at me.

 “If Alderic falls ill beyond recovery, I will be next to ascend.” I looked into her eyes.

 Her gaze softened. “You don’t want it.”

 “Not yet,” I confessed. “There’s too much left undone. Too much blood still to answer for. I wanted time to rest and to spend with you, without carrying the weight of a crown on my shoulders.”

 Meredith didn’t say anything at first. She just moved closer and slid her arms around me, resting her head against my chest. The warmth of her body cut through the chill of the night.

 “You will be a great king,” she murmured. “You already

 lead like one.”

 I huffed a low breath, my handing to rest on her back. “I lead because I must, not because I want to.”

 “Maybe that’s what makes you worthy of it.”

 Her words settled in the quiet between us–soft but strong enough to ease the storm twisting inside me.

 I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling the scent of her hair, the faint sweetness that always grounded me.

 After a while, she looked up again, her violet eyes reflecting the moonlight. “What happens when Alderic is gone?”

 I traced a finger along her jaw. “Then I do what I’ve been trained to do. But until then, I n to make the most of what time I have left before everything changes.”

 Her lips parted slightly. “Starting now?”

 “Maybe.”

 She smiled, a quiet challenge in her eyes. “As long as it doesn’t involve that burning drink.”

 I let out a low chuckle, ncing down at the ss still in my hand. “Actually,” I said, my tone shifting, “I might know a way to fix that.”

 Her brows rose in curiosity. “Oh? And how exactly do you make whiskey stop burning?”

 I drained the rest of it in one slow swallow and set the ss down on the railing. “Like this.”

 Before she could ask another word, I caught her face gently between my hands and pressed my mouth to hers.

 The taste of whiskey lingered on my tongue as it met hers–warm, sharp, and intoxicating.

 Her breath hitched against my lips before she melted into the kiss, her hands sliding up to my shoulders.

 I deepened it, letting the tension that had been building all night unravel into something slow and consuming.

 Her lips parted, and I tasted her, the sweetness of her breath mingling with thest traces of the drink.

 When I finally pulled back, she blinked up at me

 breathlessly.

 “Well,” she whispered, her voice trembling between augh and a sigh, “that does work better.”

 I smiled against her lips. “Told you.”

 Cede

 Cede is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a ir for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cede’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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The Moon Goddess 383