The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven
Chapter 145: The Duel

Chapter 145: The Duel

Meredith.

I couldn’t wait for that blessed day to arrive already, so I could show Draven what it felt like to win and make a big achievement.

He would probably be too stone-cold hearted to even know what that felt like.

I bet his parents didn’t celebrate any of his wins when he was a child, so he definitely can never relate.

A smile was back to my lips as I spoke to Valmora. "I got him to teach me combat skills."

"The first step towards unlocking our powers is done. Good job," Valmora complimented.

Though her tone didn’t sound like this was a big deal, I was happy to take her little praise. She was far better than Draven.

Just then, the ringing tone of my phone went off and I pulled open the drawer to retrieve it.

It was Dennis calling.

I swiped my finger across the screen to take the call before placing the phone on my ear.

"Hey!" He greeted.

"Hey!" I greeted back, trying to gauge his mood. "It isn’t time for practice."

"I know." A small chuckled escaped his lips and reached my ears. "Draven and Levi will be fighting it out tomorrow late afternoon at the training grounds."

My brows furrowed immediately. "Fighting?" I was almost unsure of what I had heard. "Why?"

"It’s a friendly fight," Dennis quickly explained before my head would explode. "I just called to inform you in case you are interested."

"I’m interested," I said.

"I knew you would say that," he teased. "See you at our usual meeting spot later today."

As soon as the call terminated, I threw my phone back inside the drawer and pushed it shut.

If Draven was going to be my teacher, this was the perfect opportunity to see him in a combat action. And it will be a first.

This short information from Dennis had me craving speaking to Draven. So, I grabbed the agreement from the shelf and made my way to Draven’s bedroom.

I wasn’t sure if he would be in, but there wasn’t any harm in trying.

Three soft knocks later, Draven pulled the door open. He was indecently dressed, a black pants covering his legs, a bare chest and a towel around his neck in view.

His long hair was wet and fell beside his face, and he smelt of mint and fresh alovera shower gel.

"I signed the agreement," I announced, presenting the paper to him.

He took it from me, not looking surprised to see me. "I will make a copy and send it to you. I don’t want you giving any excuses for breaking a rule here."

Without waiting for my response or asking if I had another message to deliver, he slipped back inside his room and shut the door in my face.

Asshole.

---

~**Third Person**~

~The Next Day~

The sun hovered low above the horizon, bleeding gold across the dusty training grounds. The arena had been cleared, and the scent of anticipation hung heavy in the air.

Warriors—both seasoned and new—stood in a wide circle, their bare chests glistening with sweat, eyes trained on the centre. It wasn’t just another afternoon drill. It was something rare.

A duel between a respected Alpha and a seasoned warrior.

Dennis stood off to the side, his arms crossed, a self-satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He had orchestrated this. A friendly match, he claimed. But the weight of it said otherwise.

On one side of the ring stood Draven, bare-chested in black shorts, his tall frame radiating quiet dominance. His ink-black hair was pulled into a tight bun, every inch of him calm and unreadable.

Across from him was Levi, a formidable presence with a broad chest, powerful limbs, and a smile that bordered on arrogance. He stretched his arms out and rolled his shoulders with ease, the air around him crackling with challenge.

"I will keep time," Dennis said, raising a hand. "Thirty minutes. No claws unless agreed upon. No fatal strikes. Just clean skill."

The air tensed. The Warriors went quiet. Even Jeffery, who usually stood unaffected, narrowed his eyes in interest.

At the edge of the crowd, Meredith stood, flanked by her maidservants, her silver hair catching the sun at the edge. She didn’t blink as she watched Draven.

Wanda stood at the other end, a proud smile on her lips as her gaze moved between the man she was in love with and her brother, with whom she had no boundaries.

Then—it began.

A single clap from Dennis echoed through the field, and both men shifted in a blur of movement.

Where once they stood, now two massive wolves faced off. Draven, in sleek obsidian fur, stood tall and sharp-eyed. His body was all coiled muscle, restrained power.

Across from him, Levi, with chestnut-brown fur and broader shoulders, growled low and lunged first.

He charged with impressive speed, claws raking the ground, but Draven sidestepped the attack with such precision that gasps rose from the crowd. His black form became a shadow, fluid and nearly untouchable.

Levi turned on his paws and charged again.

This time, their bodies collided.

Claws scraped against muscle, and fangs clashed, but the attacks lacked the desperation of war—they were sharp, controlled, calculated.

Dust and sand kicked up in every direction as the two wolves broke apart and then crashed together again.

Draven ducked low, slamming his shoulder into Levi’s side. Levi staggered but recovered, immediately swiping at Draven’s ribs.

The black wolf twisted just in time—a graceful whirl of motion—evading the strike and kicking up a cloud of dirt in his wake.

The crowd howled.

Warriors shifted between cheers and stunned silence as the duel continued with no clear dominance. But for those who had been trained long enough—Jeffery, Dennis, even Wanda—it was obvious.

Draven was holding back.

Levi was strong, skilled, but wild. His moves came with force, but they lacked the calculated polish of the black wolf before him.

Draven didn’t react—he anticipated. Every feint Levi threw, Draven read it before it landed. He was teaching as much as he was sparring.

Yet, he never struck hard enough to end the fight.

Halfway through, Levi caught Draven’s shoulder with his teeth, dragging him down. A triumphant growl burst from his chest—but it didn’t last long.

Draven rolled, using the momentum to flip Levi clean over his back and into the dirt. The crowd erupted.

From the sidelines, Dennis let out a low whistle. "He’s toying with him," he muttered.

Meredith didn’t speak. But her eyes said it all.

The fight resumed. They circled each other, both panting now. Sweat and blood painted Levi’s fur in patches—Draven had drawn blood once, and it hadn’t healed yet.

The sun dipped lower.

The final stretch began with a blur of motion—Levi launched into the air, claws aimed at Draven’s throat. But instead of dodging, Draven let him come.

At the last second, he pivoted, reared up, and used Levi’s own weight to slam him into the ground. Dust burst upward like a cloud. Both wolves froze.

Time stopped.

Then, Dennis rang the iron gong.

The sound split through the tension like a blade.

Draven and Levi shifted back, panting, steam rising off their bodies in the cooling dusk.

Levi wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckled. "You let me land that final strike."

Draven, chest rising and falling but unmarred by bruises, looked unbothered. "You’re slower than I remember."

Levi laughed and stepped forward. They clasped hands, gripping tightly, and for a moment, the arena was still.

"No victory for you today," Levi said. "Because you let me win."

Draven gave the faintest smirk. "I was exhausted."

From the crowd, murmurs began to rise again. Warriors clapped and howled in appreciation. Even Jeffery cracked a small smile.

Meredith remained silent, her hands tightening at her "sides.

She had seen everything.

Draven could’ve ended that fight in five minutes, but he chose not to. And it was beginning to make her wonder what else he was choosing not to show.

Her chest tightened.

She had watched him move—like the wind, like a shadow, like he knew where every attack would land before it even left Levi’s mind. It wasn’t just strength or speed... it was control. Total mastery.

She thought back to the match. Levi had struck hard—he didn’t hold back. Yet Draven? He had toyed with him. Not cruelly. Not arrogantly. Just... deliberately. Almost like a father sparring with his overconfident son.

He really could have ended it if he so wanted.

And now she understood.

Valmora hadn’t told her to seek Draven just because he was her mate. It was about this what she saw today.

He was the best.

And not just because he could fight. But because he fought smart. He thought in the middle of chaos.

Meredith’s throat felt tight.

Her wolf, Valmora, hadn’t said a word since the match ended. But Meredith could still feel her presence pressing gently at the edge of her mind. Satisfied. Almost smug.

"Now you see."

"Yeah, I can see," Meredith muttered under her breath.

She exhaled softly through her nose and turned away from the crowd, her maidservants following behind her as they whispered amongst themselves.

Her bare feet padded quietly across the corridor that led back into the estate, and soon she was slipping into the comfort of her room for a nap.

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