The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven - Chapter 411

Chapter 411: Fae Blood
Meredith.

Xamira’s big eyes lifted to him, her lower lip jutting out. “But Daddy—”

Draven leaned forward, his gaze unwavering but gentle. “You will go with Uncle Dennis. Keep the others company until we arrive.”

Her shoulders slumped, but even at seven, she understood when her father’s tone left no room for argument. She nodded, though a small pout tugged at her mouth.

“Alright…” she mumbled, sliding reluctantly off my lap.

Dennis reached for her hand, and she let him take it, still looking back at me as she was led away.

I smiled and lifted my hand, waving softly. “Go on, princess,” I said.

She waved back, then turned to skip beside Dennis, her small figure glowing faintly in the moonlight until she disappeared between the cars.

The air felt quieter afterwards, that small echo of laughter fading like a lingering scent.

From where he stood by his own vehicle, Jeffery’s voice carried across the resting camp. “We are leaving in five minutes! Everyone, return to your vehicles!”

The call rippled through the area. Engines began to hum to life again, headlights flicking on briefly before being dimmed for the stealth of the journey.

Draven stood and offered me his hand. I took it, letting him pull me to my feet. Together, we returned to our car.

As soon as I sank into the seat, I released a long sigh. The kind that seemed to carry everything, including the exhaustion, the tension, and the ache of what we had left behind.

Draven glanced at me as the driver started the engine. “Something is bothering you,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I hesitated for a moment, then looked down at my hands. “I’m just worried,” I admitted quietly. “Our people back home… they might not be welcoming to Xamira. She is human, and given our stand with the humans—”

Draven’s gaze lingered on me, his voice steady when he finally spoke. “She is my daughter,” he said simply. “Draven Oatrun’s daughter.”

Something about the way he said it—unshakable, final, made warmth stir in my chest. I turned to meet his eyes, and before I could stop myself, I added softly, “Xamira is my daughter as well.”

His expression softened, just slightly, the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

I turned to glance out the window, watching the silhouettes of the vehicles ahead and behind us fall into formation, their faint lights glowing like fireflies across the empty stretch of road.

There were still six long hours ahead before Stormveil.

—

The first blush of dawn had just begun to spill across the horizon when the landscape changed.

The convoy wound along the serpentine mountain road, the vehicles climbing steadily higher until the land itself seemed to rise and cradle us.

Stormveil appeared through the soft morning mist—ancient and timeless. We didn’t have skyscrapers or steel towers scraping the clouds like in Duskmoor—only fortress-like homes and turrets.

My heart lifted.

It felt strange to see home again after more than a year had passed. Weird, and comforting all at once.

As the cars rounded the final bend, the Great Wall came into view. It was a massive, silver-grey stone that stretched around the city like the arms of a sleeping giant.

My eyes widened as I pressed closer to the window. The Wall was finally complete.

Draven didn’t say anything, but I caught the faintest glance of pride flicker across his features before his attention turned back to the road ahead.

The sunlight caught on the Great Wall’s surface, and for a moment I thought I saw something shimmer faintly, like dew under starlight. Then I realized it wasn’t dew at all.

Etched runes glowed across the stone in long, curling lines, pulsing like quiet breaths of power.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

Valmora’s voice stirred in my mind, calm and ever-present. “Don’t be too quick to marvel.”

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Those runes,” she said, her tone laced with disapproval. “They are werewolf-made inscriptions—shallow sigils meant for protection and blessing. They hold no lasting power against a true magical assault. A prolonged force, especially one steeped in dark energy, would strip them away like paint on water.”

A flicker of unease passed through me. My fingers tightened against my thigh. Then, I turned to Draven and asked him about the runes and if they couldn’t hold against strong magic.

He nodded once, his gaze never leaving the road. “It’s true. Without Fae blood to bind and activate the higher wards, the seal’s energy is weak. It is decorative at best.”

For a moment, silence filled the car, the sound of the tyres crunching on gravel the only thing between us.

I looked back at the glowing Wall, at its proud, ancient form standing tall against the rising light. Something about its beauty suddenly felt fragile.

‘So, if the vampires ever came here…’ I began quietly, ‘They could break through?’

That thought left me uneasy. The sight of the city, bathed in dawn and runes, should have filled me with joy, but instead, a small part of me wondered if peace here was only a pause before another storm.

Then Valmora’s voice came again. “Since all that is left is Fae blood, you will make protecting the walls happen.”

I blinked, her words settling heavily in my chest. “What?” I whispered inwardly. “How?”

She didn’t answer right away, and the silence between us made my pulse quicken.

I turned my face slightly toward the window, hoping Draven wouldn’t notice the tension twisting my features.

Because deep down, I was worried, terrified even.

Draven didn’t know that I carried Fae blood. That the ancient spark ran through my veins as quietly as the river beneath ice.

I had never told him or anyone else. Not even my family knew this truth. My grandmother made me keep the secret.

And though I longed to tell Draven, to trust him with everything that I was, I couldn’t. Not yet.

Not until I saw my grandmother and learned what truly bound me to that other half of my bloodline.

My fingers curled against my lap as I swallowed the ache in my throat.

Valmora’s voice returned, smooth and unyielding. “Sarah and the others will be in charge.”

My heart skipped. My gaze flickered up to the window again, though my mind was far away. “My grandmother?” I asked under my breath.

“Yes,” Valmora said simply, her tone layered with meaning.