The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven-Chapter 633: Oppositions Arising (III)

[Third Person].

Confusion crossed Randall’s face. Then, his gaze sharpened. "How is that my fault? And why," he added carefully, "did you never mention your mate was not a pure werewolf?"

Draven almost scoffed. "When you discovered she had a wolf, did you not sense there was something more to her?"

"You should not have assumed I knew," Randall replied calmly.

Draven’s jaw tightened. He ignored his response and turned the conversation around. "You asked how you were to blame," he said. "I will tell you."

Randall stood still.

"If it were not for the fact that I am a Lycan," Draven continued, his voice sharpening, "would I have needed to hold back? To defend myself without risking exposure?"

A brief but unmistakable flicker of nervousness and realization crossed Randall’s eyes. ’So, he knows.’

Draven’s gaze turned cutting. "Is this not your moment to deny the allegation and defend yourself?"

Randall bowed his head slightly. "I cannot deny the truth."

A short, bitter laugh escaped Draven. "You cannot deny it now that it stands before you. But you did well to wrap it tightly in the past. To keep me in the dark."

Then, he lowered his voice. "If I had not discovered what I truly am, I would have exposed myself during Estella’s attack. And suffered for it."

Just then, Randall lifted his eyes. "I know you do not trust me," he said steadily. "But everything I did was for your future. You had to become the strongest werewolf alive. So no one would challenge your reign."

Draven rose halfway from the throne. "By cheating nature?" he demanded. "By altering my destiny?" His eyes burned. "Are you certain you did not do it for your own selfish interest?"

Randall did not flinch. "It does not matter the intention behind my past actions," he replied. "What matters is that the Moon Goddess blessed your reign."

Draven struck his hand against the arm of the throne. The crack rang out sharply through the hall. His fury was barely contained. But Randall only bowed again.

"The matter of the dissatisfied Elders," he added calmly, "will be handled by me. There is no need for Your Majesty to concern yourself."

Then, he bowed deeper this time and excused himself. Next, he turned and left. The doors closed behind him, and silence swallowed the hall.

Draven stood rigid, his hands clenched at his sides. In his heart, something hardened. This was no longer only about Estella. This was about truth and deception.

Much later, once he had composed himself, he sent for Oscar. Oscar entered swiftly and bowed.

"I want a full investigation into the border breach," Draven ordered. "How the vampires entered. Who failed. Whether there was internal assistance. Leave nothing unchecked."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

After Oscar departed, Draven summoned another trusted operative quietly—one who did not operate through official channels.

When the man knelt before him, Draven’s voice was low and cold. "I want you to investigate Randall Oatrun."

The operative did not react.

"Every alliance. Every hidden transaction. Every decision made years ago during his reign as both Alpha of Mystic Furs and King of Stormveil. I want dirt. And I want proof."

A pause followed briefly, then Draven added, "No one must know you are doing this."

The man bowed profoundly. "It will be done as you ordered, your majesty."

---

That same late morning, the petitions began to arrive one after another, sealed in formal wax and signed with trembling restraint or bold defiance.

Draven read the first one with a calm face. By the third, his jaw had tightened. By the seventh, the parchment in his hand nearly tore in half.

"The Queen’s fae lineage presents an existential risk to werewolf sovereignty..."

"Stormveil was founded upon pure wolf blood..."

"For the stability of the throne, we humbly request reconsideration of Her Majesty’s position..."

’Humbly?’ Draven let out a low, humourless laugh. "They are asking to be killed," he muttered under his breath.

He stacked the letters roughly on the table, his eyes dark. A knock followed shortly after.

The Royal Steward bowed. "Your Majesty, lunch has been served. Her Majesty is waiting."

Draven exhaled slowly. This was a far better use of his time than reading cowardice dressed as concern.

"Very well."

---

As soon as Draven entered the private dining hall. Meredith rose immediately with a warm smile.

But Draven lifted a hand gently. "Sit."

She obeyed without protest. Then, he took the seat at the head of the table, then reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a quiet kiss against her knuckles.

She studied him carefully. "You look troubled," she said softly. "How was your morning? I haven’t seen you since early."

Draven’s eyes held hers for a moment. "After lunch," he said. "We will talk."

Meredith nodded. Though inwardly she wondered who had been foolish enough to anger him today.

Meredith and Draven ate mostly in silence. Draven’s appetite was minimal, though he tried to mask it, but Meredith noticed immediately.

Without making a show of it, she began placing small portions from different dishes onto his plate.

"Try this."

"And this one."

"It’s not too salty." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Draven understood exactly what she was doing, but pretended not to. Each time she added something, he took a bite without protest. If nothing else, he would not refuse food from her hands.

When lunch ended, they stepped into the palace gardens. The air was lighter there, but the weight between them was not.

Draven began with Randall. He recounted the conversation without softening it.

Meredith listened closely, her brows knitting slightly. "He did not feel guilty?" she asked quietly when he finished revealing his Lycan identity to his father.

"Not in the slightest."

Meredith exhaled slowly. "What kind of father..." she murmured.

Draven’s voice cooled. "I’ve sent someone to investigate him for every hidden alliance and buried action that would be a threat to him."

Meredith glanced at him. "Are you preparing to punish him now?"

Draven did not deny it. "He has proven himself power-drunk. If he is not stopped now, who knows what he will attempt in the future?"

Meredith nodded slowly. She did not argue. Instead, she simply walked beside him.

Draven continued. "Oscar is investigating the border breach. Anyone involved will also be punished." Then, his tone hardened further. "Including their families."

Meredith turned her head slightly toward him. "The families may not be guilty," she said gently. "But they cannot go without consequence either."

Draven looked at her. "What do you suggest?"

"Different punishment," she replied calmly. "Not the same as the traitors. But enough that Stormveil understands betrayal carries weight."

After a moment, he nodded. "Very well." There was a brief silence before he added, "The Elders have begun sending petitions."

Meredith did not stop walking. "How many?"

"More than enough to anger and challenge me," he replied.

Her lips curved faintly. She wasn’t surprised by the actions of the Elders. It was expected. The only troubling factor here was that they moved faster than she calculated.

"Everyone is entitled to their opinion. They have made theirs clear." She said with her eyes ahead, then she turned to him the next second. "It’s time we make ours clear."

Draven studied her, a small smile quietly appearing at the corner of his lips.

"When will you summon them?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment before answering, "Let them murmur and grow uncomfortable." His eyes darkened slightly. "In a few days, I will invite them."

Meredith nodded. She was fully supportive of his plans, so they continued walking side by side.