The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 406

Chapter 406: A Part of Them

(Third Person).

Draven straightened, his knuckles still flexing from the blow.

But just then, the air shifted. A chill rippled through the corridor, heavy and sharp as frost.

Jeffery’s head snapped up, his instincts prickling. "Alpha..." he murmured.

Before Draven could answer, a blur of black and silver movement flashed across the hall.

Brackham let out a strangled cry as something fast and unseen tore him away from the ground. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer by Draven’s boots but pinned against the far wall by a pale hand.

The vampire leader stood there—the very one Draven had delivered to Brackham as a gift.

The bullet hole on his forehead had already healed, the skin gleaming cold and perfect. His red eyes burned with pure hatred.

Two vampires appeared beside him, their fangs bared, blood dripping down their chins. The air grew thick with their scent—iron, smoke, and vengeance.

"Alpha Draven," the vampire leader said, his voice smooth but laced with venom. "How poetic, meeting again amidst the ruins of the man you served."

Draven’s expression didn’t change. "I never served him."

The vampire’s smile widened faintly, though it never reached his eyes. "No," he said, "you used him. Just as you used us."

Draven’s silence was confirmation enough.

Brackham squirmed weakly in the vampire’s grip, gasping for air. "Please—please, don’t—"

The vampire leader didn’t even glance at him. His gaze was fixed solely on Draven. "You played your game well, wolf. But it ends here."

Draven tilted his head slightly, his tone as calm as ever. "You think so?"

"You and your Beta," the vampire hissed, his fangs glinting in the dim light, "are outnumbered. Do you really think I will let you walk out of here alive?"

Jeffery tensed, shifting his stance subtly. But Draven? He didn’t even blink.

Instead, a slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Do you have a choice?"

The vampire leader’s eyes narrowed. "You overestimate your strength."

Draven took a step forward, unhurried, his presence filling the hall like a storm. "And you underestimate mine."

For a tense moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was the distant crackle of fire and Brackham’s ragged breathing, caught between two predators who had long outgrown the concept of fear.

Then, the vampire leader’s hand tightened around Brackham’s throat, lifting him higher, but his gaze never left Draven.

"You’ve always been different from the others," he said, his voice carrying an almost grudging admiration. "Too measured. Too calculated. Tell me, Alpha, what are you really after?"

Draven stood unflinching, his expression carved from stone. "Balance."

The vampire’s laugh echoed darkly through the corridor. "Balance? You mean vengeance. You wolves pretend at restraint, but your hearts always hunger for blood."

Draven’s eyes flickered, sharp and cold. "Says the creature who feasts on the dead and calls it life."

A faint snarl slipped past the vampire’s lips, but he mastered it quickly, baring his fangs in a thin smile.

"You think yourself righteous. Yet here you stand, using us, using him—" he jerked Brackham’s trembling form forward "—to feed your own war."

Draven’s silence was dangerous, steady, and suffocating.

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