<h4>Chapter 525: With A Pulp</h4>


    <strong><i>[Meredith].</i></strong>


    I woke up feeling like my body had been wrung out and put back together again.


    The pleasant kind of exhaustion—the kind that lingered deep in my bones, heavy and warm, reminding me that the night before had been very real, very intense, and very much Draven.


    His arm was wrapped securely around my waist, possessive even in sleep. My cheek rested against his bare chest, his steady heartbeat thrumming beneath my ear like an anchor.


    I shifted slightly, testing how sore and spent I felt, then tilted my head up, and nearly jumped.


    Draven was already wide awake, staring straight at me with azy, satisfied smile that instantly made my stomach flip.


    "That’s creepy," I muttered, my voice rough with sleep.


    His smile widened, unabashed. "You will get used to it."


    I groaned and dropped my forehead against his chest. "Then, moving ahead, don’t question my weird actions anymore. I’m learning from the best."


    Heughed, the sound low and warm, vibrating through me. "I take full responsibility."


    We didn’t bother with modesty. There was no awkwardness, no hesitation—just the quiet, practised intimacy of two people who had constantly crossed something important together.


    We slipped out of bed naked, his hand briefly steadying me when my legs protested, and went straight to the bathing area.


    The pool weed us with rising steam. I sank into the hot water with a sigh that I didn’t even bother to hold back.


    Instantly, the warmth seeped into my muscles, loosening everything the night had taken out of me. I leaned back against the stone edge, closing my eyes and letting the heat revive me.


    Draven watched me the whole time attentively.


    When we were done, he helped me out without a word, wrapping a towel around me and drying me with slow, careful motions—as if I were something fragile, something precious.


    Though I didn’t tease him for it.


    By the time we dressed and made our way to breakfast, I felt human again.


    We entered the sitting area together, and the atmosphere shifted immediately.


    Dennis and Jeffery were already seated. Conversation dipped the moment we arrived. Both men rose instinctively, bowing their heads in greeting.


    The respect was automatic, but I caught Dennis’s smirk a secondter, his gaze flicking between Draven and me with far too much amusement.


    I ignored him as Draven, and I settled down side by side, close enough that our shoulders brushed.


    The seat where my grandmother usually sat remained empty. I guess she was running a littlete because she was held up by something.


    But her absence didn’t stop the servants from serving us food.


    Draven and I had barely taken our first bites when Dennis leaned back on his palms, stretching like a man who had absolutely nothing to lose.


    His eyes flicked between his brother and I—slow, deliberate, and infuriatingly amused.


    "Well," he drawled, "that exins why you two vanishedst night."


    I froze for half a heartbeat. Then I remembered the bonfire, the dancing, the sweet drinks, and the way the air had shifted when Draven stood and pulled me away.


    And the worst part?


    Everyone there could smell it.


    I lifted my chin before the heat could reach my face.


    "Exin what?" I asked calmly, scooping a bit of food onto my spoon as if my pulse wasn’t suddenly very loud in my ears.


    Dennis grinned wider. "Come on. You didn’t even try to be subtle." He tapped his temple. "The pheromones alone could have knocked a weaker wolf unconscious."


    Jeffery coughed hard into his fist.


    Draven didn’t look at Dennis. He didn’t even need to. Instead, he reached for his cup, unhurriedly and took a slow drink, looking utterly unbothered.


    I could feel his presence beside me—solid, steady, and unapologetic. So, I swallowed a gulp and met Dennis’s gaze head-on.


    "And here I thought we left quietly," I said dryly.


    Dennis burst outughing. "Quietly?" He shook his head. "Meredith, the moment you stood up, half the circle knew you weren’ting back."


    Just then, I felt the heat blooming low in my stomach from defiance this time, instead of the usual embarrassment.


    I set my spoon down and smiled. "Well," I said evenly, "I suppose it’s a good thing we didn’t owe anyone an exnation."


    The table went still for a second. Dennis blinked, then his grin turned impressed. "Huh. Look at you."


    Draven finally turned his head, just slightly, his mouth close to my ear. "You see," he murmured, just for me. "Just be more shameless than him, and he can’t get under your skin."


    I elbowed him lightly under the table. But Dennis wasn’t done.


    "So," he continued, eyes dancing, "was it worth abandoning the party for?"


    I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I leaned back just enough that my shoulder brushed Draven’s arm, and deliberately took another bite of food, slowly.


    Then I looked at Dennis. "Absolutely."


    Jeffery lost it and burst out in full-onughter.


    Dennis threw his hands up. "Alright, alright. I surrender." He ended his craftiness right there.


    Draven leaned closer, his voice low and unmistakably pleased.


    "You see what I told you," he whispered.


    I chuckled as warmth spread through my chest this time. I wasn’t hiding from my actionsst night, and I definitely wasn’t sorry about it.


    ---


    My grandmother arrived midway through breakfast, her presence felt long before her walking stick tapped softly against the floor.


    Conversation dipped instinctively, then resumed as she was guided to her seat. I smiled without thinking, my gaze following her with a warmth that settled deep in my chest.


    Everyone greeted her respectfully. Even Dennis straightened.


    Breakfast continued easily after that—quietughter, clinking bowls, the steadyfort of shared food.


    When we were nearly done, Draven rose to his feet. The movement alone drew attention.


    He inclined his head toward my grandmother. "Thank you," he said sincerely, "for weing us, caring for us, and allowing us to stay these past days."


    My grandmother smiled, the kind that feltyered—fond, knowing, and dangerous in the gentlest way.


    "If you truly wish to thank me," she said calmly, "thene visit again. When you are King." Her head tilted slightly in my direction. "With my granddaughter."


    My cheeks warmed instantly.


    "And," she added, without missing a beat, "with a pup."