The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 369

Chapter 369: Brackham’s Call

Draven.

TWO DAYS LATER.

The afternoon light streamed through the large windows of my study, casting long golden bars across the floor and my desk.

The air was still, calm and filled only with the faint rustle of papers as I sifted through reports and tactical notes.

The next few weeks would be decisive. Duskmoor was already cracking under its own fear, and the vampires would use that chaos well. So, I needed every move ready, every strike, and every distraction all planned before Brackham’s inevitable call.

Across the room, Meredith’s soft footsteps drew my attention. She was at the far wall, her fingers trailing over the spines of my old history collection.

She always paused there every time she was bored, like the past whispered to her in a way it never did to me.

When she finally plucked one of the volumes from the shelf—an old, worn book on early werewolf dynasties, I couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at my mouth.

She crossed to the sitting area, tucking one leg beneath her as she opened the book, the afternoon sun catching the strands of her hair.

The sight was grounding, and for a moment, I almost forgot the maps and the blood that waited ahead.

But just then, the sudden buzz of my phone on the desk shattered the stillness. I reached for it slowly. But when I saw the name flashing on the screen, a slow, amused smirk curved my lips.

Brackham.

’So, the proud Mayor had finally swallowed his pride.’

I leaned back in my chair, watching the screen ring for a few seconds longer, letting the sound fill the silence.

Meredith looked up from her book. "Who is it?"

"Someone who should have called me since two days ago," I said, the corner of my mouth lifting.

She arched a brow. "Brackham?"

I nodded once, letting the phone ring again before finally pressing the ’Accept’ button.

"Alpha Draven speaking," I said smoothly, leaning an elbow on the armrest.

There was a moment of heavy silence on the other end, the kind that carried defeat disguised as diplomacy. Then Brackham’s voice came, low and measured, but I could hear the strain beneath it.

"Alpha Draven... I believe we have a situation that requires your particular expertise."

For a moment, I said nothing. I let him feel that silence and let it stretch across the line until he shifted in his seat on the other end.

When I finally spoke, my voice was deliberately calm.

"I thought you were handling things just fine, Mayor. I’ve seen the reports of lockdown, soldiers on the streets, and endless press statements about unidentified creatures. Sounds like you’ve got everything under control."

He exhaled sharply, the sound tight with frustration. "Don’t mock me, Alpha. You know exactly what we are dealing with."

"Interesting choice of words," I murmured. "Your kind."

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