The Lunar Curse: A Second Chance With Alpha Draven Chapter 673: Birth of the Twins (I)

Ten weeks afterward, the night arrived much too quickly.

Meredith entered labor far earlier than anticipated, plunging the palace into immediate chaos.

Healers rushed into her chambers, followed by attendants, and the doors slammed shut behind them on her grandmother's unyielding command—no entry permitted.

Not even for the King.

Draven reached the spot right as the doors sealed. "Open it," he demanded at once.

The guards at the entrance knelt instantly, heads lowered low. "Your Majesty... we cannot."

Another sharp cry pierced from within. It cut deep, rawer than any blow he'd felt before.

"Step aside," he ordered, advancing. Yet they refused to budge.

"We plead with you," one whispered, shaking. "Her Majesty’s grandmother issued strict orders. We dare not defy her."

Draven's face grew stormy. How could they obstruct him and ignore his command?

"I am the King. When I command the door opened, you open it."

They prostrated themselves lower. "Please... forgive us. We cannot."

This cry stretched longer. Draven's jaw locked, fists balled tight as he glared at the door.

For an instant, it appeared he might shatter it himself. No one possessed the might to halt him. Yet he held back.

Gradually, he retreated a step. Not from weakness, but out of respect for the order's source.

Even so, his turmoil raged on.

He paced fiercely, steps clipped and anxious, ears locked on the door amid Meredith’s repeated cries.

—

Within, Meredith pushed through the agony.

Pain surged in relentless waves, each fiercer, wrenching screams from her despite her struggles to stifle them.

Sweat drenched her skin; a healer dabbed her brow tenderly while another hovered nearby, prepared.

Her grandmother stood resolute beside her, calm and unwavering.

As the next contraction struck, Meredith wailed, her grip clenching hard.

Her grandmother clasped it swiftly, squeezing tight. "Listen to me," she urged softly. "You bear no ordinary children. That's why it's so grueling."

Meredith nodded weakly, tears trailing down her cheeks.

"No great reward comes without trial," her grandmother pressed on, tone steady and resolute. "Endure this—for the higher purpose."

Meredith nodded firmer now, though tears kept flowing.

Her grandmother offered a gentle smile, brushing them away with her hand's back. "That's my girl. Stay strong with me."

—

Outside, Rosalie appeared.

She appeared much healthier these days, vitality returned since her palace arrival. Spotting Draven's restless pacing, she approached with composure.

"Sit and wait," she instructed.

"I can’t," he shot back without pause.

She observed him briefly, then let it go.

Together, they endured the vigil.

—

Time crawled unbearably. Each noise from inside stretched the torment. Finally, after endless minutes, a new cry pierced the door.

Not Meredith's this time. One twin's.

Draven halted, pulse racing, half-hoping the ordeal ended. Then he surged forward.

He reached the door as Rosalie seized his arm. "Wait."

He whipped around, but her gaze held him back, though grudgingly.

Inside, the first newborn arrived—a girl, her gentle wails echoing, silver hair gleaming already.

Soon after, the second emerged—a boy, cries bolder, black hair slick on his tiny scalp, aura vibrant from the start.

Relief swept the chamber as subtle happiness bloomed among the healers.

Meredith reclined, breaths steadying, far from drained. Rather, newfound power radiated from her.

Healers swiftly tended the twins, bundling them snugly before presenting them to her. Placed close, both infants hushed immediately.

Meredith beamed tenderly, planting kisses on their foreheads.

She turned to the healers. "Take them to their father."

They inclined their heads. "Yes, Your Majesty."

—

The door swung open outside, drawing Draven's instant gaze.

As the twins settled into his arms, the world faded away.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty!" The hallway's occupants bowed deeply, faces alight with joy.

Draven cradled them securely, one per arm, hands unwavering amid surging feelings. His gaze warmed, misting slightly as he gazed down.

"Welcome to Stormveil," he murmured, voice thick with pride.

The twins rested serene, eyes slitting open to sense him. A broad, proud grin lit his features.

Rosalie drew near, her face glowing with silent delight at the sight.

Draven raised his eyes. "How is my Queen?"

The healers beamed confidently. "She is well, Your Majesty. Strong and healthy. She is being cleaned now. You may see her in a few minutes."

Full relief flooded him.

He dipped his head, eyes dropping back to the babes, drawing them nearer as the moment's gravity sank in.

Moments later, healers reclaimed the twins and vanished inside.

---

Upon gaining entry to the chamber, Draven's eyes locked on Meredith first.

She lounged against pillows, hair dampish, cheeks still rosy from exertion—yet no frailty showed.

Instead, she exuded solidity, a robustness rendering outer turmoil irrelevant.

He paused briefly, absorbing her fully. Then he strode over swiftly, claiming the seat beside her, hand seeking hers unhesitatingly.

His fingers enveloped hers, warm and solid, as though verifying her well-being.

"Meredith..."

She met his look with a soft smile. It shattered his last defenses.

He bent in, kissing her forehead, holding longer than typical.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Not solely for the children. For all of it.