The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 390

Chapter 390: Tending to Her Wounds

(Third Person).

Before Brackham could press further, Draven turned and strode toward the car.

The driver opened the door for him, and he paused just long enough to cast one last look at the mayor over his shoulder.

"Take care of your new guest, Mayor Brackham. He’s... delicate."

Then Draven entered the vehicle. The car engine rumbled softly before pulling away from the courtyard, its taillights vanishing into the dark streets of Duskmoor.

Brackham stood there for several seconds, unease prickling down his spine as the meaning of Draven’s words gnawed at him.

He swallowed hard, trying to dismiss it, but something in the Alpha’s tone refused to leave his mind.

And then, from somewhere deep beneath the government house, a muffled, animalistic roar tore through the silence—low, guttural, and seething with fury.

Brackham flinched.

The vampire was awake.

---

The drive back to the estate was quiet.

The moon hung low now, its pale light spilling over the sprawling mansion as the car rolled to a stop before the front steps.

The warrior-driver switched off the engine. Draven stepped out without a word, stretching his shoulders as the cool night air swept over him.

The faint scent of blood still clung to him—old and dry, but he ignored it. His mind was already elsewhere.

The front doors opened the moment he reached them. Inside, the halls glowed softly with the golden light of chandeliers. The estate was calm again, untouched by the chaos outside.

Dennis appeared from the corridor, a grin tugging at his mouth. "Well, well. The Alpha returns."

Draven glanced up, one brow lifting. "You’re still awake."

"Barely," Dennis replied, chuckling. "I was waiting to see if you actually delivered Brackham’s gift."

"I did," Draven said simply.

Dennis’s grin widened. "Then the mayor’s in for one hell of a surprise when that thing wakes up." He folded his arms, leaning casually against the wall.

"By the way, your wife—she was magnificent tonight after you left. You should have seen her. Quick, fierce... she handled those vampires like she was born for it."

Draven paused mid-step, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. "Where is my she?"

Dennis smirked, sensing the sudden change in his brother’s tone. "Now you remember you have a wife?"

Draven’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Cut the crap."

Dennis raised both hands in mock surrender, though amusement still danced in his eyes. "Relax, Brother. She’s fine. Her maidservants are tending to her—patching her up."

"She is hurt?" Draven’s expression darkened immediately.

Dennis blinked, half in disbelief. "What were you expecting after you left?"

"But you were there," Draven said, his voice low but sharp. "How could you let her get hurt?"

Dennis stared at him, incredulous. "You can’t be serious—"

But Draven was already striding past him, his long steps quick and deliberate, the weight of command in every motion.

"Hello?" Dennis called after him, throwing his hands up. "Do you have any idea how many vampires attacked us after you left?"

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