The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven novel Chapter 61

Chapter 61: The Crime Perpetrators, Uncovered

Draven.

I had barely slept.

Two hours, at most, and most of them were haunted by flashes of the dead bodies of our people. And that dance.

For the past seven minutes, I had sat at the head of the breakfast table, silent, barely touching my plate but watching Meredith.

She was eating. Not cautiously. Just... normally. Quietly. A slice of buttered toast. A cup of warm broth. Some grilled mushroom cuts.

She looked like a woman who had slept well, like someone who hadn’t stood barefoot in the garden, and that too in the middle of the night, dancing in the moonlight like she was being manipulated.

Meredith hadn’t noticed me staring. Or maybe she had and didn’t care.

Her fingers moved with idle grace. Her hair was pinned loosely today, leaving soft strands curling around her neck. Not a flicker of guilt on her face.

"She truly wasn’t conscious last night," I confirmed inwardly.

’I told you she wasn’t herself,’ Rhovan added darkly.

"You said that, yes," I replied flatly. "You also conveniently disappeared when I asked by what."

Rhovan stayed quiet. Either still sulking or simply without an answer.

I rubbed my temple once and sighed inwardly. I had no time to confront Meredith this morning about it. Not yet.

Wanda’s yawn broke the tension. She sat across from Meredith, leaning half against her armrest, looking like someone who had walked through two nights of restless sleep.

She had returned early this morning, alone. Probably had a shower and changed before making it to the table, but exhaustion was still painted on her face.

I stood up.

Meredith’s spoon paused mid-air, her gaze flicking to me in surprise. I didn’t have the time to look back.

"Draven, you are going?" Wanda called lightly, straightening up. "Can I come with you?"

"Get some sleep first," I said to her. She had worked hard last night and deserved some rest. And besides, there was nothing much she could do on the site today.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."

I ruffled Xamira’s hair gently. "See you, pumpkin."

"Bye Daddy!" she chirped behind me.

I gave her a small smile and left the dining room.

Outside, the morning sun was slow to rise, casting a dull grey hue across the estate grounds. I walked straight toward the side guard post and stopped one of the men who had been on night duty.

"At night," I said. "Have you ever seen anyone outside after midnight?"

The guard blinked, clearly confused. "No, Alpha. I didn’t. Should I have?"

I shook my head. "Never mind."

Then I got into the SUV, adjusted the rearview once, and pulled away from the estate.

---

By the time I reached the warehouse, Dennis and Jeffery were already on site, standing near the caution tape.

The warehouse loomed large behind them, rusted and silent—just another ruin tucked between the port’s endless sprawl of shadows.

Jeffery repeated the details he had given me on the phone, only more thoroughly this time.

The phone had been found near a pile of old crates at the far end of the warehouse.

Shattered. Bloodied. Ronan’s name was still etched faintly into the back of the case.

His bent and slightly wet port badge was discovered near the exit.

I crouched next to the spot, letting the scent trails speak, but they didn’t.

The forensic team was already wrapping up, their equipment halfway back in their van.

"No blood spatter. No drag marks. No hair. No scent beyond a faint residual trace of wolf," one of them reported. "Our verdict: this wasn’t a crime scene. Not in the legal sense." ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

As our internal forensic team cleared out, one of our warriors stepped forward, frustrated. "Alpha, if I may—what if Ronan was actually kidnapped outside Taproot and brought here? Maybe they tortured him."

Another nodded. "Could be. That would explain the broken phone, right? And his blood?"

"No," I said quietly. "Ronan was never brought here."

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