The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 381

Chapter 381: Not Prepared for the Throne
Draven.

“So, we are using Brackham’s demand against him.” Meredith’s violet eyes were bright now with a hard understanding.

“That’s the idea,” I said. “To make his wish expose his enemies and his secrets.”

They nodded. The room tightened around that single, clean idea.

Dennis’s grin spread wide, his sharp teeth flashing as if the idea itself fed him. “I like that,” he said, leaning back. “It is indeed a wonderful idea for the humans to sweat, and even a better idea for Brackham to lose a few nights of sleep before we even lift a finger.”

“Our goal right now is to drive the vampires out of the city without killing them,” I said. “We are not shedding their blood.”

Jeffery folded his arms, his expression thoughtful. “But how do we drive the vampires out without killing them, Alpha? You know they will fight back. They will see us as enemies, not allies.”

I met his gaze steadily. “Not if their leaders order them to leave.”

Meredith turned to me quickly, curiosity flickering across her features. “The vampires’ leaders?”

I nodded once.

Her brows lifted slightly. “How? You will meet one of them?”

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “Yes.” Then I raised a hand before anyone could press further. “But don’t ask for more details now. I will figure the rest out when the time comes. What’s important right now is the show we will put on for Brackham.”

Dennis tilted his head. “A show?”

“Yes,” I said. “You know him—he will have every corner of the city monitored, cameras, scouts, satellites, all to watch how I fight his monsters. So we will give him something to watch. The battle will look real, sound real, feel real. But every move will be on my terms.”

Dennis smirked, clearly impressed. “Brilliant. I’ve always said the old man needs to be humbled before the fall.”

Jeffery nodded, his tone more measured. “Indeed. Every one of Brackham’s requests is aiding our initial plans. We didn’t know the vampires would invade his city, or that Brackham would demand a living one afterwards. It’s almost poetic.”

A small chuckle escaped me. “Poetic, yes. Fitting, too.”

Jeffery leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You already planned to use the vampires against the humans, and now everything is unfolding exactly that way. The difference is that we barely have to lift a hand. Brackham is digging his own grave.”

That made Dennis laugh out loud, the sound rough and gleeful. Jeffery joined him. Meredith only smiled softly, her gaze finding mine. I reached across and gently took her hand, squeezing it once—a quiet promise between us amid the laughter.

Then Dennis’s grin faded, and he turned toward me. “Brother, what about the vampire Brackham wants alive?”

I met his eyes evenly. “Don’t worry. I will take care of that myself.”

Just then, the landline on my desk began to ring, its sharp sound slicing through the air. The laughter stopped.

I rose from the couch, crossed the study, and lifted the receiver.

“Draven,” I said evenly, my tone shifting back into command.

“Son.”

That single word carried the same weight it always did—authority, pride, and the quiet demand for answers.

I leaned slightly against the edge of my desk, my tone composed. “Father.”

“I’ve been patient long enough,” he said, his voice edged with impatience. “Tell me, when does the war begin?”

“Very soon,” I replied evenly.

A low sound, something between a sigh and a growl, came through the line. “Very soon? You’ve been saying that for weeks, Draven. The council wants clarity, not riddles. I want clarity.”

I exhaled through my nose, forcing the restraint into my tone. “You’ll have your clarity soon enough.”

“That’s not good enough.”

He wasn’t going to let it go. I could almost picture him standing in his study back home, hand braced against the edge of his desk, temper threatening to crack the calm he prided himself on.

“Father,” I said finally, “I’ve already sent some of our people home. That alone should tell you the war is near. You only need to exercise a little patience and wait for my call.”

There was a pause—the kind of silence that made the air feel thicker. Then, a sigh came through the receiver. “Very well,” he said, reluctant but resigned.

Just as I thought the conversation was over, his tone shifted. “There is something else.”

I straightened. “What is it?”

“It’s King Alderic.”

My body went still. It didn’t sound like good news would be following next.

“He has been sick for a week now,” Father continued. “So sick he had to cancel today’s meeting.”

The air left my lungs in a quiet breath. “Do we know what kind of sickness?”

“No.” His answer was clipped. “The healers haven’t said anything, or they are afraid to. Whatever it is, it’s serious enough to stop him from ruling for now.”

I didn’t speak. My thoughts were already racing ahead through the implications, through what this meant for Stormveil, for the council, for me.

Father’s voice came again, low and measured. “We don’t yet know if this sickness will lead to death, but Alderic’s reign isn’t over. And as our next king, you need to be ready to take over at any given moment. Which means you must finish what you started there—either end the war quickly or pass the responsibility to your Beta and return home.”

I drew in a slow, steadying breath and closed my eyes for a moment. The weight of the crown was suddenly heavier—a reality I had long been prepared for, but one that came too soon.

“I understand,” I said at last, my voice quiet but firm. “Wait for my call, Father.”

Without waiting for a reply, I ended the call and lowered the receiver back onto its cradle.

For a moment, I just stood there—the silence pressing around me, thoughts and strategies spinning in my head like restless wolves.

Then, I turned to meet the three pairs of eyes watching me.

Meredith’s brows were drawn together, her face laced with worry.