CHAPTER 281: SAME VEHICLE AS WANDA

Meredith.

Mabel’s words landed like a slap in themselves, more than the previous painful comment she made before.

But how could Wanda take that lying down?

Just then, she shot to her feet. Her hand sliced through the air in a rage, aiming straight for Mabel’s cheek.

A soft gasp escaped from my lips and echoed around the table.

But Mabel was faster. She immediately caught Wanda’s wrist mid-air, her face hardening as her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"How dare you?" Wanda hissed, her voice shaking with fury.

But Mabel’s grip tightened, and she glared back with equal fire. "No. How dare you think you can raise your hand to me? Do I look like that weakling over there who has probably been tolerating your insults and abuse?"

Her chin jerked sharply toward me.

The words struck harder than a slap. My breath caught, and I stared at her, stunned and completely wounded.

She had defended herself, yes, but in doing so she had thrown me under Wanda’s shadow again, and exposed my silence and endurance for everyone to see.

But not that it mattered because all I could do at this moment was sit here, frozen.

Just then, the soft scrape of Draven’s chair against the floor sounded louder in the suffocating silence as he rose to his full height.

"Mabel." His voice was deadly calm.

Then I saw Mabel’s eyes flick toward him, still narrowed with anger. But her grip loosened and she slowly released Wanda’s wrist.

Draven’s gaze locked on her. "You will not insult my wife again."

As soon as I heard that warning, my heart warmed up, the corners of my lips stretching into a small smile.

But of course, my sister stiffened, probably because he didn’t expect a husband to stand up for his wife.

But Draven didn’t give her time to reply. His voice dropped lower like it was threaded with steel.

"If you dare to speak of her as a weakling again, or use any degrading words on her, then tomorrow, you will be on the same vehicle as Wanda heading back to Stormveil. If you have issues left to fight out with her, then do it on the road, far from my home."

The silence that followed was so heavy I swore I could hear the faint crackle of the candles burning on the table.

Mabel’s face paled slightly. Wanda sat rigid, her eyes wide with shock at Draven’s words but I noticed it.

The way his gaze didn’t linger on her for more than a passing second, the way he dismissed her as if she were nothing.

He wasn’t protecting her or even acknowledging her fury. His words, his warning, his entire attention and interest had been on me.

Mabel lowered her gaze and murmured stiffly, "Yes, Alpha."

Draven didn’t sit down immediately. His eyes swept across the table once more, his authority filling every corner of the room, daring anyone else to speak.

And everyone knew better than to speak, including the strong-headed ones.

Calmly, Draven sat back down and reached for his wine glass as if nothing had happened.

"Now," he said in a smooth tone, "let’s finish dinner."

I stared at him openly, not bothering to hide the proud smile on my lips this time around.

Mabel’s words hadn’t pierced me as I had grown used to that sort of sting from my family, that quiet dismissal that told me I was never quite enough.

I have endured it so long that I hardly flinched anymore. But Draven, my husband, hadn’t endured it.

In fact, he refused to allow it and had cut Mabel down for speaking against me. Not because I had demanded it or even needed his help. But because he simply wanted to protect me.

And that was something else entirely.

Warmth spread through my chest, soft and fierce all at once.

’So this was what it felt like to have someone stand at your side, to know there was a person who wouldn’t let the world bruise you without consequence?’

So this is what it means to be protected, not out of pity, but out of loyalty and love?

I didn’t care for Mabel’s insult, but Draven’s defense was like a hand closing firmly around mine in the dark.

I glanced at him once more from beneath my lashes. He was eating again as if nothing had disturbed him, yet every line of his posture screamed authority.

The others might be afraid of this man, but I felt something else entirely; pride, relief, something sweeter and deeper.

A few minutes later, Draven set his utensils down, dabbing his lips with a napkin before rising smoothly from his seat. Then he flickered his gaze briefly toward me, silent and expectant.

I understood instantly, but I couldn’t leave him now.

"I will put Xamira to bed and come," I said softly, my voice carrying enough for him to hear.

He gave a short nod, and without another word, he turned to leave. Chairs scraped faintly as everyone murmured polite goodnights to him.

I returned my gaze to Xamira. She was still nibbling at her food with a determined slowness, her belly rounded from dinner.

"Are you done, sweetheart?" I asked gently.

She looked up at me with a wide smile. "My lady, can I have one more glass of juice?"

My eyes fell on her protruding belly, already stretched from all the food she had happily devoured. I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

"Just a sip," I allowed.

"Thank you," she smiled, completely delighted before taking her glass and sipping carefully.

Around us, the room gradually emptied. One by one, chairs pushed back, servants cleared quietly, and my siblings excused themselves.

I was about to rise with Xamira when the soft tread of footsteps stopped in front of me.

Mabel wore a smile, but her eyes told another story. I narrowed mine instinctively. The mask of pleasantry barely concealed the frown tugging at her mouth.

Before I could speak, to ask her what she needed, movement stirred behind me. Kira and Deidra, who had been stationed silently among the other servants, stepped forward in unison.