The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven
Chapter 144: Withdrawing The Warriors

Chapter 144: Withdrawing The Warriors

Draven.

Dennis’s eyes dropped to my chest before they found my face again, already twitching with mischief.

"You just wrapped up your swimming lessons with Meredith?" he asked, brows raised. "And you came straight here instead of changing out of your wet shorts?"

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. The soaked fabric clinging to me was doing all the talking.

His gaze slid down again, and before he could open his mouth to say something even dumber, he noticed the sheet of paper in front of me.

"What’s this?" he asked, already leaning over the desk like a nosy pup.

I picked it up and folded it in half. "An agreement."

Dennis’s interest sharpened, the way it always did when he sensed something personal. "What kind of agreement?" he prodded.

I didn’t bother answering.

And that was when he moved faster than I gave him credit for. His hand shot out and snatched the sheet from my fingers.

"Dennis—"

Too late. He leaned back in his seat like a king on a throne and unfolded the page leisurely. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth the second his eyes scanned the header.

"Wow," he mouthed, before lifting his gaze to mine. "You actually drew up a rulebook to teach your wife combat?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "How is that your business?"

He ignored the question the same way he ignored most things that didn’t serve his entertainment. His eyes twinkled.

"You should have added a rule against being too stiff. I mean, who writes ’no lace on the training grounds’? That’s a real warrior’s concern right there."

My jaw ticked, but I said nothing. He was trying to get a rise out of me. Again.

Dennis kept reading, pausing after each line like a self-appointed narrator of mockery.

"No whining. Cry later?" He snorted. "You sound like Father. Only less charming."

I reached for the paper again, but halfway through the motion, I stopped and leaned back. Let him read. I wasn’t in the mood to wrestle a grown man over stationery.

Dennis continued, dramatically enunciating each rule.

"Fail your swimming evaluation, and this agreement dissolves... wow. Harsh. You planning to drown her if she messes up?"

I didn’t respond. Silence was my way of inviting him to shut up.

He finally reached the last line, eyes still dancing with humour as he refolded the sheet and slid it across the desk toward me.

"I just can’t believe you, of all people, could be this uptight over training your own wife. Why should I even be surprised?"

I didn’t pick it up immediately. I let it sit there a moment before reaching for it, folding it once more, but this time I didn’t set it back on the desk. I held it in my hand and stared past him.

Something else was clawing at the edges of my mind.

Dennis noticed the shift. He tilted his head.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

My fingers tightened around the paper. "Something."

He leaned forward slightly. His voice had dropped the sarcasm. "Something like what?"

"I’m thinking of pulling the hunters back. Calling off the search."

That earned me a raised brow. I met his gaze without flinching.

"It’s better we let the vampires come to us," I said. "Hunting them exposes our people. We risk losing more than we gain."

Dennis leaned back in his chair, his earlier amusement replaced by consideration. "That’s true. Our men could run into a troupe and not come back. Then we’d be down good warriors—and still have no answers."

I reached for my phone. Tried the mind-link first—nothing. Jeffery was probably blocking out to focus, like he always did when tracking movements or training.

So I dialled instead.

"Alpha," Jeffery’s voice came through, crisp.

"You have time?"

"Yes, Alpha."

"Come to my office. We need a brief talk."

He acknowledged the order, and I ended the call with a quiet sigh.

It didn’t take long. A knock came, and I gave permission. Jeffery entered and walked straight to the desk, taking the chair beside Dennis after I gestured him down.

"I’m calling the hunters back," I said, getting to the point. "It’s too dangerous to keep looking. We will let the vampires make the first move."

Jeffery nodded, face grim. "I’ve been thinking the same. Let Duskmoor’s government shoulder some of the risk. They’ve been hiding behind our backs while we bleed on their soil."

Dennis chuckled darkly. "About time they stop sipping tea behind tall gates. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if they lost a few of their own."

I turned to him sharply. "As much as I’d like them to carry more weight, any attack affects us, too. You know that."

Jeffery cut in. "Besides, they haven’t had any deaths or disappearances lately. None. Too clean."

"Exactly." I sighed, rubbing my palm against my jaw. "The vampires going quiet for two weeks straight—that’s not retreat. That’s preparation."

"They’re playing hide and seek," Dennis muttered. "Waiting for one of us to walk into their jaws."

I tapped the table with a knuckle, a habit when the tension brewed too loud in my head.

"They have your scent," I reminded him. "You need to be more careful when you leave the estate."

Dennis smirked. "I know, brother."

After issuing the final instructions—Jeffery to recall the hunters and the warriors dispatched—we concluded the discussion. I dismissed them both, the paper still in my hand.

I left the study, climbed to the third floor, and paused outside Meredith’s door. I knocked, waited. But there was no answer.

A deep sigh escaped my lips. It was either that Meredith was in the inner room or out entirely.

I turned the handle and stepped inside.

The room was empty. But the faint hiss of water reached my ears. She was in the shower, bathing.

I cleared my throat even though she couldn’t hear me, then crossed to her nightstand and placed the folded agreement there.

Rhovan stirred in the back of my head. "Go to her. Join our mate in the shower."

I rolled my eyes at him mentally. Not everything needs to be about scent and skin.

"And why should I do that, you pervert?" I asked him.

Rhovan growled. He didn’t like that word, and I didn’t care.

"Won’t you like to see our mate’s body and taste her out once again?" he asked, trying to tempt me. But it was all for nothing.

I wasn’t in the same mood as him. "If you want her so badly, you can go find her in the shower yourself."

I turned and left the room, ignoring his low, eager growl.

Let Meredith read the agreement first. Let’s see if she still wants to train after all those rules.

---

~**Meredith**~

After spending quality time under the shower, I finally turned off the water and grabbed the towel right after I started to notice my skin go dry.

Then, I walked into my dressing room and picked up something comfortable to wear.

How I missed my maidservants dressing me. I had every reason to believe Draven was set to torture me, but in a different way.

As soon as I stepped inside my bedroom, I smelled Draven, though he was nowhere to be found. Then, I moved towards the bed, my nose scrunched up as I noticed something that looked like a letter.

The paper was barely folded—just left on the edge of my nightstand like a warning or a challenge. Possibly both.

That must be the agreement.

I stared at the note for a second, not ready to touch it. There was no warmth. No "yours truly." My name was spelt out in full.

I picked it up anyway.

Draven’s handwriting was messy but legible, bold lines that curved with irritation. It wasn’t the kind of neat penmanship one might expect from a royal alpha. But it was so... him. Rushed. Controlled. Sharp.

My eyes scanned the lines quickly the first time, but then I read them again, more slowly. Each point sliced like its own little insult.

No whining. Am I a child?

No arguments during lessons. He really wants me to act like a dumb doll.

No bragging. He doesn’t want me to celebrate my wins?

What the hell?

I rolled my eyes halfway through it, but something about the way he ended it—Break any of these—don’t show up again—tightened something strange in my chest.

No "good luck." No, "I will be patient with you." Just a threat. A promise.

Still, I wasn’t angry. Not completely.

Because beneath all that alpha gruffness was a quiet truth: Draven Oatrun was going to train me. Finally!

He may act like he hated me half the time—and maybe he did—but this was his version of agreeing to help.

And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel significant.

I stared at the "If you are careless, you will bleed" line longer than I should have. Was that a warning or a guarantee? Knowing him, both.

A sigh pushed out of me before I could stop it.

I found a pen, signed under my name, before nodding in satisfaction.

Then, I folded the paper once—neater than he had—and tucked it into the drawer beneath my nightstand. It felt like something I shouldn’t throw away.

I really have to make sure to finish my combat lessons with excellent grades so I can gloat in Draven’s face.

At least, he didn’t make mention of not bragging after the lessons have been completed.

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