The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 432

Chapter 432: His Avoidance

[Meredith].

Randall’s gaze shifted back to Draven.

"Regarding the war in Duskmoor," he said, voice steady, "you still owe me the clear details."

Draven nodded. "I know. I will come find you later in the evening."

Randall simply accepted that with a controlled nod of acknowledgement. Then, without another word, he rose and left the dining hall.

Jeffery stood next. "I will excuse myself as well, Alpha."

Oscar followed, offering Draven a small nod before taking his leave. The room grew quieter with each person who left, until only the three of us remained.

Dennis leaned back in his chair, arms folded tight across his chest. His expression hadn’t softened, not even a little.

"Are you really meaning to visit her?" he asked, voice low, brittle.

I turned slightly, studying him. His anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but there was something else too. Something far heavier.

Draven didn’t look at him when he answered. "I haven’t decided."

Dennis scoffed. "You’re considering it. Which means you will go."

Silence swept through the room like a cold draft. A tension I had never felt between them before tightened the air, and I released a quiet sigh.

The brothers had always seemed unbreakably close—steady in every battle, every disagreement, every challenge.

The last thing I wanted was to witness a true fracture between them.

Dennis’s shoulders dropped a little. The anger ebbed but weakened. And when he spoke again, I could hear the crack in his voice beneath the attempted strength.

"You’re lucky," he said softly. "At least Mother recognizes you sometimes. Even if it’s fleeting."

My heart squeezed.

Dennis swallowed hard. "But as for me, she has never once acknowledged my existence. Not once."

Draven finally looked at him. His expression didn’t waver, but his voice carried a quiet heaviness.

"Which is better?" he asked. "Being recognized—and in those few times, still being accused and assaulted? Or not being recognized at all?"

The words hit me like a blow.

Assaulted?

So, their mother didn’t only forget. She became violent.

A woman trapped in her own mind. A mother who didn’t know her sons. A family torn apart by an illness no one dared to speak of.

A deep and suffocating silence returned.

And just when I thought the conversation had ended, Dennis suddenly turned his gaze to me. He forced a smile, but there was still hurt in his eyes.

"What do you think?"

The question startled me, but not because he asked. It was the vulnerability behind it, the way his voice wavered just slightly.

The way he searched my expression like he needed someone to understand that his anger... his hurt made sense.

Draven’s gaze shifted to me, too, calm but attentive, waiting to hear what I would say.

The servants at the walls remained as they always were—silent, heads lowered, part of the furniture rather than the conversation.

I drew in a slow breath. I knew I couldn’t pick a side here, not between brothers wounded in different ways.

Choosing one would only deepen the fracture. So, I reached for the one truth I understood.

"I can relate more with Draven," I said softly.

Dennis’s eyes dimmed instantly—hurt flickering across his features like someone had blown out a candle.

But before that hurt could settle, I continued, keeping my voice steady.

"Before the Lunar Curse marked me, I received love. Real love. Affection. Pride. My parents valued me. I was the golden child of my pack."

I swallowed. "But after the curse, that same affection turned into hatred. And everything I once had was stripped from me."

Both brothers watched me quietly. Draven was steady and unreadable, and Dennis was wounded but listening.

"So if I stand on that little hell alone," I went on, "if I compare both realities, I would rather have never known my family’s love in the first place, than to taste it once and have it ripped away."

Dennis’s expression shifted. His hurt was becoming something else. Thoughtfulness. Recognition. A quiet, heavy understanding. But I wasn’t done.

"That said..." I shook my head gently. "I’ve never been in your shoes either. I’ve never lived without a mother’s love from the very beginning. I’ve never been left craving even a small piece of affection from someone who should have given it freely."

Dennis’s jaw tightened as his eyes lowered.

"So in truth," I concluded, "I can’t say which is better, or which hurts more."

A long, still moment followed. Then Dennis gave a small nod and a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t real. But it wasn’t angry. And that was something.

But the next moment, he pushed his chair back and stood.

"Then, Luna," he said quietly, "when you visit her, be vigilant. And careful. She is not as frail as she looks."

My brow lifted. ’When I visit her?’

He spoke with such certainty that I didn’t even get the chance to respond. He turned before I could ask.

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