The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 373

Chapter 373: Their Inner Thoughts

Meredith.

Just then, the doors of the government house opened automatically, and Mayor Brackham himself emerged.

He looked exactly as I remembered from the television: tall, broad-shouldered, his silvering hair slicked neatly back, his tailored suit immaculate.

But in person, there was something else—the faint scent of strain beneath his cologne, the taut set of a man trying to mask how rattled he truly was.

"Alpha Draven," he greeted, his tone formal yet cautious, carrying easily across the open yard. "Welcome to Duskmoor’s seat of governance. It’s an honour to have you here on such short notice."

Draven inclined his head slightly, that deliberate calm never wavering. "Mayor Brackham."

Brackham’s gaze flicked briefly past Draven, taking in the men flanking him. "Beta Jeffery. Dennis. It’s good to see both of you."

Jeffery gave a polite nod, his usual calm confidence in place. Dennis, however, only smirked faintly in acknowledgement.

Then Brackham’s eyes found me.

For a heartbeat too long, he just looked. His gaze swept over me, measured, perhaps impressed, or disarmed, before he caught himself and straightened his shoulders.

"She is," Draven said smoothly, his hand brushing lightly against the small of my back, "my Luna—Meredith."

The title rolled off his tongue like both a declaration and a warning.

Brackham’s composure faltered ever so slightly before he offered a respectful bow of his head. "Luna Meredith," he said, his voice lower now, almost reverent. "It’s an honour to meet you."

I met his gaze and extended my hand, maintaining a composed smile. "Mayor Brackham."

His grip was firm—too firm, like he wanted to prove something, but I didn’t flinch. I watched his expression as our hands touched; his pulse skipped for the briefest second, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes, though he masked it quickly.

Draven’s presence behind me was steady, quiet, but unmistakably possessive. The weight of it made Brackham withdraw a second sooner than he meant to.

"Please," Brackham said, gesturing toward the grand doors behind him. "Come inside. We’ve arranged the main conference chamber for our discussion."

As we followed him, Draven’s hand stayed at my back, light but deliberate. The marble halls swallowed our footsteps, and the scent of polished wood and tension filled the air.

Every human presence we passed carried thoughts that brushed faintly against my mind — fragmented, nervous whispers.

"That’s her? The werewolf Luna?"

"She is too beautiful to be dangerous."

"I had no idea the Alpha had a woman by his side."

As we entered the conference room, the low hum of conversation faded almost instantly.

At least a dozen humans were seated around the polished table, senators, advisors, and military heads, all dressed in sombre tones that matched the tension clinging to the air.

Papers were stacked in front of them, untouched. No one looked relaxed.

But that wasn’t what made me pause.

It was the simple fact that they were here at all.

Draven’s gaze shifted sharply across the room. I could feel his irritation through the subtle pull of our bond, though his expression remained perfectly calm.

"I thought this old geezer said this was a private meeting?" Dennis’s voice came through the mind-link, edged with disbelief.

"I thought so too, Jeffery replied. "So why the audience?"

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