The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 180

Chapter 180: Brazen Attacks

Meredith.

The meeting dragged on longer than I had expected. My back started to throb faintly from the morning’s training.

My feet arched, almost tempting me to leave Draven’s side and find somewhere to sit, as I haven’t had the privilege to stand for long in a while.

Training at the grounds was different. I didn’t have to stand at a spot longer than five minutes.

Combat required me to move my body around to either try to throw a punch or defend myself against one.

I almost gave up, but each time, Draven’s voice pulled my thoughts back every time they wandered.

One hour had passed since Draven had first told everyone about the humans and the vampires, and tension hung so thick in the air that even my breathing felt heavy.

Then, Draven asked if anyone had something to share. The warehouse fell so silent that the creak of an old beam overhead sounded loud.

A man in the middle lifted his hand. "Alpha."

Draven nodded once and approved, "Speak."

The man’s jaw worked for a second before words spilt out. "Alpha... three nights ago, I almost got abducted."

A ripple of shock moved through the crowd. My chest tightened immediately.

"I was in the restroom of a restaurant," he continued. "I had just stepped out of a stall when three men grabbed me. They wore black masks—metal masks, not cloth. One tried to use a tranquillizer on me."

More gasps rose.

"I broke the syringe and fought them," he said, voice rough. "I injured them, but I got hurt too. By the time I healed enough to move, they were gone. When I stepped back into the restaurant, I asked around—no one had seen men in masks. Or at least that’s what they claimed."

An ugly silence settled, then a wave of anger and outrage surged from the crowd. Voices overlapped—questions, curses, disbelief.

"They are attacking us in public now?" someone shouted. "In the open?"

Another voice, sharper, older: "Do they think we will just stand there and take it?"

Before the noise could settle, a woman stepped forward, her hands clenched around the hem of her cloak. Her voice shook.

"My child was nearly kidnapped too," she said. "Two weeks ago. A cab driver tried to drive off with him when I stepped out. I screamed, chased after the car—he stopped and claimed it was a mistake, that he thought we’d both stepped out. But I know what I saw. His eyes... they weren’t confused. They were determined."

My stomach clenched painfully, fury burning low in my chest. How dare they. How dare the humans go after children?

This wasn’t a story anymore. I was finally witnessing it firsthand.

Beside me, I felt the temperature shift—an invisible heat, coiled and dangerous. I turned slightly to see Draven, his jaw set, eyes so dark they looked almost black.

"Yes, the truce has cracked—if not broken entirely. And yes, a war is coming. But listen: we cannot be the first to start it."

Someone muttered bitterly, "So we just wait?"

Jeffery’s expression didn’t change. "No. We prepare. We wait because the Great Wall in Stormveil is not yet finished. We wait because if we attack first, the council and the king will have no chance to plan or protect our families. We must buy time. When the humans break the truce openly, then we strike back—with every claw and fang."

The warehouse quieted, the weight of his words sinking in. Even those still shaking with rage lowered their heads.

I swallowed, my heart thudding. So much I hadn’t known... all these months. And I had been worried about bruises and training, while Draven and the rest of our people were bracing for a war that wasn’t just about swords and claws, but about survival itself.

And worse, it wouldn’t just be humans. Vampires too. Two enemies at once.

No wonder Valmora kept urging me to train harder. No wonder Draven refused to let me slack, even if it meant I ended the day covered in bruises.

My eyes flicked to Draven. His face was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something fierce and heavy responsibility. Rage, barely contained.

And something else too, something that made my chest tighten painfully: fear. Not for himself, but for all of us.

The crowd grew quiet, the rage giving way to a grim, heavy resolve. The silence after felt heavier than the noise had.

And for the first time, truly, I felt the weight of what it meant to be his wife—and part of his people.