The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 570

Chapter 570: Doesn’t Remember

[Meredith].

Some minutes later, I stood before the iron door underground.

It loomed heavy and unwelcoming, its surface cold even before my knuckles touched it. I knocked twice, evenly, then waited.

After a brief pause, the door creaked open. The caregiver greeted me with a respectful bow and stepped aside without question. Draven must have informed her of my visit in advance.

I offered a brief nod and entered the small living space, the air noticeably cooler and faintly damp compared to the upper levels of the estate.

I took a seat on the sofa as the door was locked behind me.

"Mrs. Oatrun has just finished bathing," the caregiver said, turning to face me. "She is about to have breakfast."

I glanced around, my eyes flicking instinctively to the small clock mounted on the wall. "It seems she woke up a bit late today," I observed mildly.

The woman hesitated, then nodded. "She was restless last night. She didn’t sleep until very late."

"I see." My gaze returned to the clock. It was already past nine. "Has her food arrived?"

"It will be sent shortly," the caregiver replied.

For someone unwell—someone supposedly fragile—that was far too late to have food.

I folded my hands in my lap. "She needs to eat on time. Especially in her condition."

The caregiver shifted uneasily.

"How about this," I continued smoothly, not giving her time to object. "Go and fetch her breakfast. But before then, inform her that I’m here to visit. I will stay with her until you return."

Her refusal was immediate. "I’m not allowed to leave Mrs. Oatrun’s side."

I looked at her then—really looked. Her posture was rigid, her tone rehearsed. Too rehearsed. There was more beneath that refusal than mere devotion.

Whether it was fear, instruction, or something she was guarding, I couldn’t yet tell, even through her thoughts.

"I will take responsibility if anything happens," I said calmly. "You have my word."

She hesitated again, visibly torn. In the end, she turned away and disappeared into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, she returned, guiding Mrs. Oatrun gently by the arm.

Draven’s mother still looked as young as ever—unnaturally so. Her features were elegant, untouched by time in ways that unsettled me more now than they ever had before. But her complexion was paler than I remembered, almost translucent.

Too little sunlight, I thought immediately.

Living underground like this couldn’t be helping her condition—whatever that condition truly was.

I stood up at once. "Good morning, Mrs. Oatrun," I greeted, bowing respectfully and addressing her properly.

Her eyes slid over me without recognition.

That didn’t surprise me. Already, I’ve been mentally prepared for it.

The caregiver helped her onto the sofa opposite mine, then turned to me with a strained smile.

"Please... be careful," she said lightly, as though reminding me not to spill tea rather than warning me about a woman capable of violence.

Then she left, locking the door behind her. The sound echoed sharply in the confined space.

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