The Moon Goddess 391 Summary


    Meredith, feeling tired and not hungry, gently declines Draven’s urging to eat, despite his concern over her blood loss and need to regain strength. Their tender exchange reveals Draven’s deep care as he insists she will eat tonight,paring his persistence to that of Madam Beatrice. After he leaves, Meredith rxes,forted by his presence.


    Suddenly, Draven unexpectedly enters the kitchen, surprising the staff with hismanding presence. He announces he will personally bring dinner to Meredith, defying the usual protocol. Madam Beatrice prepares a meal of roast pheasant, bread, stew, and spiced wine, while Draven also requests a pint of ice cream. The kitchen staff is amazed by the Alpha’s devotion and unusual hands-on approach.


    Draven and Madam Beatrice deliver the meal to Meredith’s chambers, where the warm aroma fills the room. Draven sits by Meredith’s side, yfully teasing her about the ice cream, and insists she eat first to regain her strength. When Meredith winces in pain as she tries to eat, Draven immediately takes over, gently feeding her himself with a firm but caring tone that leaves no room for refusal.


    Throughout the chapter, the emotions of love, concern, and tenderness between Meredith and Draven are palpable. Draven’s protective nature and Meredith’s quiet vulnerability create a poignant dynamic, while the kitchen staff’s awe highlights the significance of Draven’s actions. The chapter ends with a quiet moment of connection as they share the meal together.Continue Regr Chapter Reading Below


    Meredith shook her head gently, a faint trace of fatigue in her voice. “Not yet. I’m just not hungry right now.”


    Draven’s brow furrowed with concern. “You’ve lost blood. You need to regain your strength to heal properly.”


    Her violet eyes met his, glowing softly in the dim light of the room. “I promise I’ll eat soon. Please don’t worry so much.”


    Still, he leaned in closer, cing a tender, lingering kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered against her skin. “Tonight, you’re eating—whether you want to or not.”


    A quietugh escaped her lips. “You sound just like Madam Beatrice.”


    Draven’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as he stood. “Good. Maybe this time you’ll actually listen.”


    Meredith smiled softly as he turned toward the door. The warmth of his touch seemed to linger in the air long after he left, and the faint echo of his footsteps faded gently down the hallway.


    Once the door clicked shut, she exhaled deeply, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She settled back into the pillows, a small, contented smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.


    Suddenly, the heavy oak doors to the kitchen swung open with a sharp creak, catching everyone inside off guard.


    All conversations halted instantly. Several chefs froze mid-action—one still clutching adle above a steaming pot, another paused mid-chop with herbs in hand.


    The only sound left was the soft hiss of oil simmering quietly on the stove.


    Draven stepped into the kitchen, and the atmosphere shifted immediately. Unspoken tension thickened the air around him. His presence alone filled the room—silent,manding, and utterly unexpected.


    Dressed in ck, faint traces of the cool night air clung to his clothes. His sharp gaze scanned the startled faces before settling on the older woman standing near the central counter.


    “Alpha,” Madam Beatrice greeted calmly, her voice respectful as she quickly wiped her hands on a towel and stepped forward. “This is unexpected. May I assist you with something?”


    Draven’s voice was steady and clipped, though not unkind. “I’m here for my wife’s dinner.”


    A ripple of surprise passed through the kitchen staff. The servants exchanged uncertain looks, as if unsure they’d heard correctly. Madam Beatrice blinked once, then gave a polite nod.


    “Of course, Alpha. I will have the servants prepare it and bring it to her room right away.”


    Draven shook his head. “No need. I will take care of it myself.”


    The silence that followed was sharp and heavy, as if it could cut through steel. Several younger maids stared wide-eyed, clearly unable to imagine the Alpha of the house personally serving anyone, even his Luna.


    Madam Beatrice hesitated, reading his expression carefully before sighing softly. “If you insist,” she said.


    With efficient movements, she began gathering the meal—roast pheasant, soft bread rolls, a steaming bowl of vegetable stew, and a small carafe of warm spiced wine.


    Within minutes, she arranged everything neatly on a silver tray. When finished, she straightened her posture and smoothed her apron.


    “Allow me to carry this for you, Alpha,” she said firmly, lifting the tray before he could protest. Her tone held that matronly authority that even Draven didn’t argue with.


    He simply gave a small nod of acknowledgment.


    As they turned to leave, Draven paused and looked toward one of the chefs standing near the refrigerator. “Bring me a pint of ice cream,” he ordered.


    The chef nearly stumbled in his haste to retrieve it from the cold storage. Momentster, he handed Draven a sealed pint and a silver spoon.


    Draven epted them silently, his expression unreadable.


    With that, he strode toward the door, Madam Beatrice following behind with the tray carefully bnced in her hands.


    The kitchen staff remained frozen in ce until the door clicked shut once more, releasing the collective breath none of them realized they’d been holding.


    “I can’t believe the Alpha actually came into the kitchen tonight,” one of the younger chefs whispered, eyes wide with disbelief.


    “To get food for the Luna,” another added, a mixture ofughter and awe in their voice.


    “He must truly love her,” the oldest cook murmured softly, shaking her head. “I’ve never heard of such devotion before.”


    Their voices trailed off into a reverent silence as Draven’s footsteps faded down the corridor.


    Outside Meredith’s chambers, Draven and Madam Beatrice stopped. He rapped firmly on the door once before pushing it open.


    Meredith looked up at the sound, surprise flickering across her face when she saw Madam Beatrice following behind him.


    “Your dinner, mydy,” the older woman announced with a respectful bow.


    Before Madam Beatrice could step further inside, Draven took the tray from her hands and ced it gently on the bed beside Meredith.


    Immediately, the rich aroma of roasted meat and fragrant herbs filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.


    Madam Beatrice bowed once more. “If there’s nothing else, I will take my leave.”


    Draven nodded curtly. “Thank you.”


    The door closed softly behind her, leaving only the gentle crackle of the fire and the faint rustling of curtains stirred by the night breeze.


    Draven settled on the edge of the bed, turning his calm gaze toward Meredith. “After you finish dinner,” he said, holding up the pint of ice cream, “you can have this.”


    Meredithughed quietly, shaking her head. “Do you think I’m Xamira?”


    That earned a rare, subtle smile from him—the kind that only reached his eyes. “You’re worse,” he said evenly. “At least she doesn’t pretend she dislikes sweets.”


    “Maybe I don’t,” Meredith teased, attempting an offended look, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement.


    Draven leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Then I suppose I’ll have to eat it for you.”


    Her eyes softened, amusement sparkling within them. “You wouldn’t dare.”


    He held her gaze for a long moment—a silent challenge, a yful game. Then, his expression softened.


    “Eat first,” he murmured. “You need your strength.”


    Meredith reached for the spoon, but as she shifted, a sharp sting red in her side.


    She inhaled softly through clenched teeth.


    Draven’s eyes narrowed instantly. “Careful.”


    The brief wince she tried to hide only made his concern deepen.


    Without a word, Draven took the spoon from her hand and dipped it into the stew. “No more arguments.”


    “Draven—”


    “Eat,” he said quietly, holding the spoon to her lips.


    His tone wasn’t harsh ormanding—it was firm but gentle, leaving no room for refusal. So she leaned forward and took the bite, savoring the warm, savory vor as it melted on her tongue.


    Draven watched her closely, then took a thoughtful bite from the same spoon himself, his eyes never leaving her face.Conclusion


    The chapter delicately explores the tender bnce between vulnerability and strength within Meredith and Draven’s rtionship. Through his unwavering care and her quiet eptance, the scene reveals the depth of their bond—a love that transcends pride and embraces the necessity of support in moments of fragility. Draven’s willingness to personally prepare and serve Meredith’s meal symbolizes his devotion, while her soft smiles and gentle teasing reflect thefort and trust they share despite the challenges they face.


    As the quiet intimacy of the evening unfolds, the warmth of their connection fills the room, offering a respite from the outside world’s demands. The simple act of sharing a meal bes a powerful gesture of healing and reassurance, reminding them both that love is not only about grand derations but also in the small, steadfast moments of care and understanding. In this shared silence, their hearts speak volumes, promising strength through togetherness and the quiet courage to face whatever lies ahead.What to Expect in Next Chapter?


    The next chapter promises to delve deeper into the tender yetplex dynamics between Meredith and Draven, as his unwavering care for her bes even more evident. Their quiet moments together, filled with subtle gestures and shared nces, hint at a growing intimacy that is bothforting and charged with unspoken emotions. Yet beneath this warmth, there lingers a tension—Meredith’s vulnerability and Draven’s protective nature may soon be tested in ways neither fully anticipates.


    Meanwhile, the reactions of those around them—the kitchen staff’s awe and the subtle shifts in household dynamics—suggest that Draven’s actions might ripple beyond the confines of their private world. As the story unfolds, expect to see how the delicate bnce of power, duty, and affection intertwines, potentially stirring conflicts that challenge their bond. The next chapter will invite readers to explore not only the strength of their connection but also the quiet struggles that lie beneath the surface.


    Cede


    <strong>Cede</strong> 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.