The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven Chapter 666: A Promise Written and Sealed

In the following morning, Meredith positioned herself next to her grandmother by the window, as gentle morning light seeped through and bathed the table in front of them softly.

A parchment sheet lay spread out, ink and quill at the ready. Her grandmother spoke with composure, while Meredith transcribed the words.

Every term was intentional, selected with precision—not like an order, but more like an invitation.

The message called upon the Fae to place themselves under her grandmother’s direction, to trail Draven’s guards into the city, and to contribute their power toward reinforcing the Great Wall.

Upon finishing the letter, Meredith recited it softly, verifying each phrase matched the intent precisely. Her grandmother heard it quietly, then offered a subtle nod.

"It will do."

The letter got sealed right away and dispatched promptly.

—

Three days passed, and after verifying the message's arrival, Draven launched the subsequent stage of his strategy.

At the palace entrance, twenty royal guards formed up neatly, their ranks sharp and orderly. Jeffery positioned himself ahead, ready for instructions.

Draven surveyed them steadily, his look even. "You know your orders."

Jeffery inclined his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"You will move discreetly," Draven continued. "No unnecessary attention."

Jeffery dipped his head again, grasping the task's importance fully.

The guards set off under his lead without pause, departing the palace soundlessly in separate vehicles to guide the Fae into the city.

—

That afternoon, the Grand Hall brimmed once more with Stormveil's key figures.

The elders' council, Royal Alphas, and top officials arrayed themselves neatly before the throne. Meredith skipped this session, so Draven led solo.

Draven stood and spoke, his tone firm as it echoed through the chamber. "As I told you all last time, the Fae have consented to help fortify the Great Wall with specific terms."

His eyes swept over each face while he went on, "After their job ends, we must not pursue them or try finding them."

After a short silence, he included, "And as long as they stay in Stormveil, our complete protection covers them."

Silence gripped the hall while the meaning settled in.

Draven’s stare continued roaming over them, calm and assured. "I plan to keep these terms." He paused, then questioned, "Do I have your backing?"

No opposition arose. Leader by leader, they advanced, voicing assent.

"You have it, Your Majesty."

"We stand with you."

"The conditions will be upheld."

Their pledges rang like sacred vows.

Draven responded with a faint nod, then raised his hand in a quiet signal. Oscar promptly came forward, bearing the drafted decree. He laid it on the table steps from the throne, placing ink nearby.

The mood intensified. Spoken commitments now turned binding.

Draven stepped down from the throne toward the table. He took the quill and inscribed his name boldly on the paper. Finished, he reclaimed his throne.

"Step forward," he commanded.

One by one, council members neared. A few flashed momentary shock at the ritual's seriousness, but none delayed much.

Each inked their thumb and stamped the parchment, imprinting their commitment.

With the final mark done, Oscar collected the decree and handed it back to Draven.

Draven inspected it thoroughly, confirming all signatures present. Satisfied, he placed it down.

"This assembly will reconvene once the Great Wall has been secured," he declared.

A wave of ease swept the hall. Faces relaxed, murmurs of thanks emerged.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Stormveil is strengthened under your rule."

Draven signaled lightly, releasing them.

The elders, Alphas, and officials bowed, then filed out gradually until the hall cleared.

Yet Randall lingered. He approached after the rest departed.

"When will the Fae arrive?" he inquired.

Draven’s face stayed neutral. "That is not for you to know," he answered flatly. "You will wait for the result."

Randall eyed him briefly before sighing softly. "I can see what you’re doing," he remarked. "You’re being thorough, ensuring no one interferes with your plans."

After a quick lull, he appended, "But you can trust me. I am your father."

Draven reclined a bit in his throne, eyes unwavering. "I will remember that."

No further words came.

Randall met his look a beat longer, then nodded faintly. He bowed silently and exited the hall.

---

A calming aroma wafted from Meredith’s workspace—subtle blends of herbs and oils lined up tidily on her table.

Fabric pouches stood in neat rows, some packed full, others awaiting filling.

Meredith presided at the heart of it, intent but relaxed. Her fingers worked deftly, portioning, blending, and securing each sachet meticulously. A serene pace defined her task, one she clearly relished.

Opposite in the room, her grandmother settled cozily, knitting rhythmically. Sightless eyes aside, her fingers stayed flawless, every stitch exact.

Nearby, Azul, Kira, and Deidra kept a polite distance. They hugged the room's borders, advancing only when called, otherwise granting Meredith her favored solitude.

Tranquility reigned, free of haste.

Grandmother and granddaughter labored quietly another ten minutes till Draven entered through the door.

A soft smile touched his face instantly upon spotting Meredith. He strode directly to her side.

Meredith scarcely glanced up before his arm encircled her shoulders, drawing her into a quick hug. He planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, then a second, indifferent to onlookers.

"You’ve been busy," he observed, eyeing her creations.

Meredith offered a light smile. "It helps pass the time."

He lifted a completed sachet, examining it closely. "This one is different," he pointed out.

"I adjusted the blend," she explained. "It’s softer."

Draven nodded briefly before replacing it. His eyes drifted discreetly to her abdomen. "How are they?" he inquired.

Meredith caught on at once. "They are fine," she assured softly. "Still calm." After a brief hesitation, she queried, "How was the meeting?"

"Settled," he answered. "Everything is in place."

Meredith regarded him a moment, then noticed the item in his other hand. "What is that?"

He looked at it, then her. "You will see."

With those words, he unfurled the edict, revealing it fully. Signatures and thumbprints adorned it solidly.

Surprise flickered as she grasped its meaning. Her eyes sparkled while meeting Draven’s.

"You really are something else," she told him.

"I know." He took the praise, then moved to her grandmother, placing it gently in her grasp.

Her fingers traced the page lightly, sensing its feel, the imprints, its significance, no words required.

A smile curved her lips. "You have gone far," she noted. "Further than most would."

Draven stayed poised. "Leadership requires example," he stated. "If I expect Stormveil to uphold its word, then I must make sure that word is bound. Even if they must swear to it."

The elder’s smile grew warmer. "I am pleased," she declared.

Her endorsement held profound value.