The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 372

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Chapter 372: Duskmoor’s Government House

Meredith.

The drive was quiet, almost too quiet.

From the back seat of the car, I watched the city blur past through tinted glass. The streets that were once packed with cars and people were now nearly deserted.

Shops stood shuttered, their signs dim. Empty sidewalks stretched for blocks, and every now and then, a patrol vehicle rumbled by in the opposite lane, its siren silent but its lights spinning a dull red and blue.

The state of emergency had transformed Duskmoor. It now resembled a ghost town, all glass, silence, and fear.

I glanced sideways at Draven. He sat with one arm resting against the window, his posture calm, his expression unreadable.

Even in this emptiness, he looked completely in control, as if he belonged to every shadow we passed.

Dennis and Jeffery’s car followed close behind, and two more vehicles trailed them with our men in them.

The convoy moved like one living thing, precise and alert.

Still, my nerves wouldn’t fully settle. I kept half-expecting to catch the blur of pale eyes or a flash of inhuman movement among the buildings.

But nothing came. No vampires, no screams or chaos. Just the rhythmic hum of the engines and the city’s eerie stillness.

Slowly, I exhaled. Maybe I had worried too much.

I turned slightly, looking toward Draven again. "How far are we now?"

He glanced at his watch, then back to the road ahead. "About seven minutes," he said.

I nodded, settling back into my seat, trying to convince my heart to believe it. Seven minutes. Then we would be inside Duskmoor’s government house. And it would be my first time there.

But before I could let that thought soothe me, the low thrum of something distant began to echo through the air.

I frowned, leaning in closer to the window as the sound grew louder, rhythmic and more mechanical.

Then I saw it, a helicopter slicing through the sky above the rooftops, its metallic body glinting in the pale daylight. It hovered for a moment before turning towards us, sweeping lower as if tracking our convoy.

My pulse kicked up again.

Draven followed my gaze, and a faint smirk tugged at his mouth. "Looks like Brackham decided to send us escorts."

"Escorts?" I repeated, still watching the helicopter as it shadowed our route from above. "Or watchers?"

He chuckled lowly. "Does it matter? Either way, they will only see what I want them to see."

His calm tone should have reassured me, but it didn’t. If Brackham felt the need to send air surveillance, it could only mean one thing: he was nervous. Because I refuse to accept this gesture as a kind motive.

And if Brackham was nervous, then this meeting wasn’t going to be as simple as a handshake and polite words.

The helicopter drifted ahead of us now, guiding the convoy like a black bird leading the way.

Draven reached across the seat, his fingers brushing against the back of my hand — a silent grounding gesture. "Relax," he murmured. "We are almost there."