The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 389

Chapter 389: Delivering Brackham’s Gift

(Third Person).

Far from the silence of the woods, Duskmoor City burned with chaos.

The night sky glowed with the red shimmer of street fires, and the air was thick with smoke, gunpowder, and blood.

Screams echoed between the tall buildings, blending with the deep, guttural snarls of beasts and the hissing screeches of vampires.

Jeffery stood at the centre of it all, the storm of battle swirling around him. His claws were slick with black blood, his eyes blazing gold under the moon’s light as another vampire lunged toward him.

He caught it midair, slammed it hard against a crumbling wall, and snapped its neck in one fluid motion. The creature went limp, sliding down the bricks like a broken doll.

"Push them back!" he roared, his voice carrying over the chaos. "Drive them to the edge of the district!"

His command rippled through the pack. Dozens of werewolves— warriors from Draven’s estate and those living in Duskmoor surged forward, their bodies half-shifted, claws and fangs glinting as they tore through the vampires.

A vampire dropped from a rooftop, claws aimed for Jeffery’s spine, but one of the wolves intercepted, ramming into it midair. They crashed to the street in a violent tumble.

Jeffery glanced back briefly and gave a sharp nod of approval before turning, his expression cold and focused.

The vampires fought with desperation now. Outnumbered and cornered, they attacked wildly, tearing through and slashing at anything that moved. But the werewolves were stronger and faster.

Jeffery’s Beta instincts kicked in like a blade of precision—every command calculated, every counterstrike brutal and efficient.

A tall vampire with ashen hair hissed at him, eyes glowing crimson. "You think this will end us, wolf?"

Jeffery’s lips curled into a snarl. "No. This will only make you run faster."

The next second, he lunged forward, their bodies colliding. The vampire clawed at his arm; Jeffery twisted, slamming his palm into its chest before tearing out its heart.

Then, he let the lifeless body drop and raised his head, scanning the street.

The vampires broke formation and scattered. Some turned and fled, their inhuman speed carrying them into the shadows.

Jeffery straightened, breathing hard, the scent of victory and blood thick in his lungs.

Across the city, similar scenes unfolded—wolves overpowering, vampires retreating. Draven’s plan was working. The vampires’ rage and confusion only fed their panic.

One of Jeffery’s next in command—a scarred warrior with silver eyes ran up to him. "They are pulling back toward the eastern end, Beta!"

Jeffery’s jaw tightened. "Good. Make sure none of them think to circle back."

The lieutenant nodded and howled—a low, commanding sound that rippled through the night.

The wolves answered, their collective roars shaking the air as they surged after the fleeing vampires.

From a rooftop, Jeffery watched as the last of them disappeared into the dark horizon—a stream of pale bodies vanishing into the forest beyond Duskmoor’s borders.

He stood there a moment longer, chest heaving, the adrenaline still burning in his veins.

Around him, the sounds of battle faded, replaced by the crackle of fire and the distant, broken cries of human survivors.

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