CHAPTER 395: TIMING TO THEIR ADVANTAGE

(Third Person).

Meredith stepped forward quietly.

A few heads turned as she passed—warriors and servants alike bowing slightly in acknowledgement.

The respect in their eyes wasn’t just for her title anymore. It was for the woman whom they heard had fought beside their Alpha, who had bled in the woods the previous night and returned whole by dawn.

Draven noticed Meredith before she reached him. His gaze softened briefly, the smallest flicker of warmth breaking through his otherwise stoic expression.

"You should be resting," he murmured when she came to stand beside him.

"I will rest when you do," she replied, her tone calm but firm.

A faint smile touched his lips before he turned back to his men. "The eastern wing and the servants’ quarters will be cleared for families," he continued, his voice carrying effortlessly.

"The warriors will occupy the lower hall and the training rooms. No one sleeps outside tonight."

Dennis stepped forward and handed him a list. "The extra fuel reserves are stored by the garage, under guard."

Draven nodded, glancing briefly at the paper before folding it. "Good." Then he looked to Jeffery. "Double the patrols tonight. I don’t want anyone wandering off the estate grounds."

"Yes, Alpha," Jeffery said, already moving.

Meredith turned to the servants nearby, who were hurriedly carrying trays of food toward the courtyard.

"Make sure everyone eats," she said, her voice steady but gentle. "No one goes hungry tonight. It may be their last good meal before the journey."

"Yes, Luna," they replied in unison, bowing quickly before rushing off.

Draven’s eyes flicked to her again, pride flashing there—subtle but unmistakable.

Soon, the sounds of movement softened into a rhythmic, controlled pace.

Families were ushered into designated rooms, warriors gathered in formation by the outer walls, and the estate settled into a kind of uneasy order.

When the final group of arrivals entered through the gates, Meredith helped direct them toward the guest wing herself.

---

WESTERN WOODS.

The woods were silent again, too quiet. The moon hung low, bleeding silver light through the black canopy as a shadow swept across the clearing.

A hand broke through the brush, followed by the tall, lean figure of a vampire. His eyes, sharp as polished garnet, scanned the ground littered with broken branches and blood-soaked leaves.

The metallic scent was still fresh.

A second vampire appeared beside him, then a third, until seven stood at the edge of the clearing.

"What happened here?" one of them hissed, crouching near a severed head, his fangs bared. "This is their blood. Our brothers."

Another snarled softly. "They were scouts. They should have returned hours ago."

The tallest among them, pale-faced and severe, stepped forward, his gaze falling to the dark patches of disturbed earth where the bodies lay.

"Where is the leader?" His voice was low and cold.

No one answered. The question hung like poison in the air.

One of the vampires, younger, bent closer to the ground, his nostrils flaring. He leaned down, touched a drop of blood, and brought it to his tongue. His eyes narrowed.

"Humans," he said at last. "Their scent is everywhere."

The others exchanged quick, disbelieving looks.

"Humans?" one scoffed. "You think mortals did this?"

He gestured sharply toward the nearest corpse, its neck torn open, limbs twisted beyond recognition. "Does this look like the work of humans to you?"

The younger one growled. "No... but they were here. I can smell iron and gunpowder. Maybe they came with others."

The severe vampire’s crimson eyes flickered with thought. "If humans were here," he murmured, "then they weren’t alone."

The group fanned out wordlessly, their movements fast and fluid—gliding through the trees, searching the shadows for anything that might lead them to their missing leader.

Minutes bled into half an hour. The forest whispered, but gave up no answers.

When they gathered again, their fury had ripened into something darker.

"He’s gone," one said, his voice shaking with restrained rage. "Vanished. And there are drag marks... toward the west."

"The west?" another echoed. "Toward the human lands."

A tense silence fell over them.

"Then we know who took him," the severe one said at last. His tone was grave, final. "The humans have our leader."

Murmurs of outrage rippled through the group—low, hissing sounds that made the night tremble.

"And they will pay," one of them snarled. "Every single one of them."

The severe vampire’s lips curled into a thin, lethal smile. "We will inform the other leaders. Let them know ours has been captured."

His gaze swept across the clearing one last time, the glint of blood reflected in his eyes.

"Tonight, they took one of us." He turned toward the deeper woods, his voice dropping to a growl. "Tomorrow, we take their city."

In a blur of motion, the vampires vanished into the trees, their forms melting into shadow, their hunger awakening like a storm about to break.

The clearing fell silent again, but the promise of blood lingered in the air—thick, heavy, and waiting.

---

Draven’s ESTATE.

The full moon hung heavy above Draven’s estate, washing the open courtyard in a pale, silvery light.

Dozens of fires burned in scattered circles, their orange glow flickering across the faces of gathered werewolves.

The air carried the mingled scents of roasted meat, wine, and earth. And beneath it all, the hum of restless energy.

Draven stood tall before his people, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the large crowd.

Meredith sat a few feet away beside Dennis and Jeffery, quietly observing him.

The atmosphere was half-solemn, half-celebratory. Everyone could feel it—the weight of what was coming.

When Draven finally spoke, his voice cut through the low conversations like a blade.

"We have fifty vehicles for the trip back home," he began, his tone calm but commanding. "But it will be impossible to leave in one full convoy without attracting attention or suspicion. So, we will split into five groups, ten cars for each group."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Draven didn’t pause.

"Since the vampires are likely to attack toward evening or night," he continued, "we will use that timing to our advantage. Once we have achieved our aim, and while they and the humans are busy tearing at each other, we will leave Duskmoor City. Quietly. Swiftly. Together."