The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 403

Chapter 403: The War (IV)

(Third Person).

Jeffery and the others followed, their movements swift and brutal. Within minutes, silence returned—broken only by the faint hum of dying machinery.

Meredith exhaled, lowering her blade. But the sight before her froze her breath in her throat.

Dozens of bodies. Broken test tubes. Cages—some empty, some still filled with the half-living.

Some werewolves lay inside glass chambers, their bodies mutilated, tubes protruding from their veins.

On the other side, human infants lie in incubation pods, their small chests rising and falling faintly.

Meredith’s hand trembled as she pressed it to her mouth. "This is..."

Jeffery’s voice was thick with disgust. "Monstrous. He was experimenting on both humans and werewolves."

Draven’s gaze hardened. "That power-hungry beast that called himself human."

Meredith moved to one of the desks littered with notes and vials as her healer’s instincts took over.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned over the pages of the bloodstained report.

She scanned the complex data sheets, the blood samples, the formulas, the strange chemical mixtures, and the endless rows of failed test results.

When the meaning finally clicked, her violet eyes darkened as her stomach twisted.

"He was trying to clone us," she said at last, her voice low, but steady. "To make an army of artificial werewolves." Jeffery’s expression darkened.

"And that is why he wanted a living vampire," he said, disgust curling in his tone. "To blend their endurance with ours—to create something beyond both species."

Meredith looked over the wreckage, the broken glass chambers filled with what had once been living beings. Her throat tightened.

"But it looks like he never succeeded. These notes... none of them reached completion. That’s why all these specimens failed—the bodies couldn’t sustain the transformation. The subjects died too early."

Draven stood silent for a long moment. The air around him seemed to change—thicker, heavier, colder.

His jaw clenched as his gaze swept over the torn bodies of his kin, the smell of blood and metal rising like smoke.

But when he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of restrained fury.

"Destroy it," he ordered. "All of it. Every vial, every record, every drop of what he has done here."

Jeffery nodded sharply, already motioning to the warriors. Meredith turned toward Draven, but he was already moving, his long strides echoing through the corridor.

"Draven!" she called, her voice sharp with concern. "Where are you going?"

He paused at the doorway, his back half-turned to her. The crimson emergency lights painted the hard edges of his face.

"To put an end to Brackham’s life."

The silence that followed was thick, vibrating with the sound of the machines dying around them.

Jeffery looked after him, unease flickering across his features. "Alpha," he said carefully, "let me come with you."

Draven stopped mid-step and looked back—first at Jeffery, then at his wife. His eyes softened, just a fraction, betraying the conflict beneath his calm mask.

Meredith met his gaze, understanding what he wasn’t saying. She stepped closer, her voice firm but warm.

"Take Jeffery with you," she said. "I will finish here with the others. And when it’s done, I will reach you through the mind-link."

Draven hesitated, the shadows shifting across his face. Then he gave a single nod. "Be safe," he murmured.

"I will," she promised.

Then, he turned and strode towards the exit, Jeffery falling into step beside him.

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