Avenging Luna
Chapter 110: Rejection

Chapter 110: Rejection

Drake POV:

The thought of Leila’s dedication warmed me as I carefully collected her soup. Despite everything, she still insisted on breastfeeding Ash herself as often as she could. Even on her worst days, she would find the strength to hold him close, to give him what he needed. She’d brush off my concerns with that stubborn look in her eyes, as if her will alone could keep her upright. The doctors assured us that Leila’s illness wouldn’t pass to Ash through her breast milk, which was a relief. Despite how sick she seemed, her milk was still safe and rich in nutrients, crucial for Ash’s development. They’d explained to me that breast milk contained antibodies and growth factors that would strengthen his tiny immune system, helping him grow strong in his early, fragile days. This was especially important because, as a premature baby, Ash needed every advantage he could get.

The nurses had told me it wasn’t dangerous for her to breastfeed, but I saw how weak it made her afterward. And each time, I would argue, try to get her to rest, but she’d always win, saying nothing could keep her from our son.

I learned more than I ever thought I would about neonatal care over these past weeks. The hospital had a specialized neonatal unit where the tiniest, most vulnerable babies were kept. Ash was placed in a warm incubator that helped maintain his body temperature, which he couldn’t yet regulate on his own. Every breath was monitored; every small twitch or sound was recorded to make sure he was thriving. He was connected to feeding tubes when necessary and monitored constantly for signs of hunger or discomfort. The nurses even measured his weight gain daily, noting each precious gram.

When Leila was too weak, the nurses or I would feed him with a small bottle of milk, but she hated missing a chance to be there. Each time, she pushed herself to the limit, battling her own exhaustion just to hold him close and nurse him. She knew, as I did, that every feeding created a bond, a reassurance for Ash that he wasn’t alone—that even though he’d been born into a world of wires and monitors, he was still loved, still safe in his mother’s arms.

To keep up her strength, I would bring her all kinds of nourishing foods—soups, broths, and smoothies full of everything she needed to recover after each feeding. But each time, I watched her energy drain just a little more, her shoulders sagging as soon as she’d laid Ash back into his incubator. I’d pleaded with her to rest, to let the nurses take over, but she wouldn’t hear of it. For Leila, every feeding was a promise to our son that she was still there, fighting through her illness for him.

I admired her for it. But each time she faltered, each time her skin turned a shade paler, it scared me. She was pushing herself far beyond what was safe, and every time she left Ash’s side, she needed long hours of rest and constant fluids to regain even a hint of her usual strength. It was a delicate balance—one that kept us all on edge, not knowing if this would be the last time she’d have the strength to hold him.

As much as I hated seeing her struggle, I understood why she pushed herself. Ash’s life started in this fragile balance between survival and struggle, and Leila was determined to be part of it. She didn’t want him to feel alone, especially in these critical first months. Each day, her love for him became a battle she fought from within, her determination holding her together even as her own strength faded. And I was right there, ready to support her, though the fear of losing her grew stronger every day.

So here I was again, gathering what she needed to regain her strength after each time with Ash. I could see her face so clearly in my mind—how determined she was, how fiercely she loved our child. Even in this nightmare of illness, she clung to these small acts that kept her connected to him, to us. I loved her for it, even if it tore me apart to see her so worn down.

Just then, as I was heading back toward her room, I caught sight of Lily. She was waiting in the hallway, her expression a mix of concern and seriousness that threw me off guard. She looked almost hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure if she should approach me.

"Drake, I... I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s something I need to share with you," she said softly, glancing around. Her tone was low, and she gestured for me to sit somewhere more private. The cafeteria was too open, but when we passed an empty waiting room, I followed her in, my pulse picking up with a vague sense of worry. Had something happened with the pack? With Leila?

As soon as we sat down, Lily gave me a sad, sympathetic look, then pulled out her phone. "I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t important. But you deserve to know the truth." Her voice was gentle, almost too kind, as if she was bracing me for something she knew would hurt. I felt my chest tighten.

"Lily, what’s this about?" I asked, already feeling a heavy weight in my stomach.

She pressed play on her phone, and Leila’s voice filled the room, unmistakable. It was her, talking to Dr. Harry, her words hurried and pleading, fragments of phrases that sank into me like stones: "No! Drake can’t know about this... you have to help me find another way.... pretending I’m dying..."

Each word echoed in my mind, louder and louder, as if the room had narrowed around me.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt the air leave my lungs as I listened to Leila’s voice, pleading with Dr. Harry to keep up the lie, to hide this entire sickness charade from me. Fooling me. All this time. Every emotion collided within me—confusion, hurt, anger, disbelief—all tangled in a sickening knot. My hand trembled as I struggled to breathe, hearing her voice repeat phrases I wished I could un-hear, phrases that twisted my heart until it was barely recognizable.

I couldn’t look at Lily. Her hand rested gently on my arm in some attempt at comfort, but it only made me feel exposed, raw. Her words from earlier came back to me, how she had looked so hesitant, so genuine in her concern. Now I knew why she’d insisted on speaking to me privately—she knew what kind of bomb she was about to drop.

Leila’s voice on that recording... It sounded like her, but not the Leila I thought I knew. She sounded desperate, almost frantic, pushing the doctor to continue this deception. A dark anger boiled inside me. How could she? How could she stand by, watching me agonize every day, watching me wear myself thin trying to be everything she needed—all while pretending she was dying?

For our son’s sake, for my own sanity, I’d held it together all these weeks. I’d forced myself to believe she’d be okay, or if she wasn’t, that at least we were cherishing what little time was left. I’d dedicated myself completely to her, to Ash, to making the impossible bearable. And now... now it was all just lies.

Lily’s words broke through the haze of my thoughts. "I’m so sorry, Drake. I know how much you care for her. I didn’t want to believe it either, but you deserved to know." She paused, her gaze soft and filled with sympathy. "She lied to all of us, but especially to you."

I felt my jaw clench, a wave of betrayal searing through me. The image of Leila feeding Ash, holding him close despite her "fragile" state, flickered in my mind. She had fought with me, stubbornly insisted she could handle it, and I’d thought it was out of love, out of a desire to be close to our child. But now... Was it all just for show?

My voice finally found its way out, strained and barely recognizable. "I... I don’t understand. Why would she do this?" My words sounded hollow.

Lily sighed, her expression patient yet pained. "Maybe she thought it was for the best, to keep you distracted, or to test your loyalty... who knows? But it doesn’t change what she’s done." Her hand pressed against mine, and she looked me in the eyes, her voice barely a whisper. "You deserve someone who would never hide something like this. You deserve someone you can trust with everything."

I wanted to deny it, to tell Lily she was wrong, that there must be some explanation, some reason beyond selfishness that made Leila act this way. But no matter how hard I tried to rationalize it, the words on that recording were undeniable. Leila had done this. She had lied to me, to everyone.

A painful clarity crept over me, making me feel colder, like some part of me had died in that instant. The Leila I had cherished, the Leila who’d promised to share everything with me, didn’t seem to exist anymore. Or maybe... maybe she never had.

My heart twisted in ways I’d never thought possible. I couldn’t make sense of it—the mate I’d fought for, the mother of my son, and the voice on this recording. Her voice, calm and pleading, asking Doctor Harry to keep her secret from me. Every word cut like a blade. This wasn’t some simple misunderstanding; this was a betrayal. She hadn’t just deceived me—she’d deceived the entire pack, the people who’d rallied around her, offering support, sharing in the sorrow and fear of losing our Luna. And it was all... a lie.

I must’ve replayed the recording a dozen times, desperate to find some clue, some explanation that might make this easier to accept. But each time, it only confirmed what I dreaded: if Harry hadn’t stepped in, worried about her health, she would have gone on letting me and everyone else believe she was dying. That thought made my stomach churn. For over a month, I had been grieving her, feeling like she was slipping away with each passing day, cherishing every look, every word, every touch as if it were the last. And all the while, she’d been weaving this... charade.

The door creaked open, and there she was, Leila, stepping into the room, her face instantly going pale when she saw me—and the phone in my hand. The look on her face, the way her eyes flicked to the screen, the guilt and desperation there, just stoked the fury burning in my chest.

"I can explain," she said, her voice shaking.

I stared at her, struggling to keep the anger from boiling over. "Explain what, Leila? Explain how you fooled everyone? How you made me believe I was losing you, made our people suffer and fear for you?" My voice cracked, but I forced it steady. "Do you even understand what you’ve done? You didn’t just hurt me. You’ve hurt the entire pack. Our people... they grieved for you, they supported you, and all along, you were pretending."

She looked stunned, her mouth opening and closing, as if scrambling for words. But I couldn’t let her speak. How could I, after everything? The sleepless nights, the way everyone exchanged worried glances when they thought I wasn’t looking, the sacrifices I’d made, trying to be there for her, for Ash. Every smile, every glimmer of hope, had been tainted by this—this lie.

I looked down at her, and the disbelief morphed into something darker. "How could you do this, Leila?" My voice dropped to a whisper, the pain cutting through each word. "Do you even realize what you put everyone through? People thought they were losing you. I thought I was losing you. Every single day. And yet... this was all just... an act?"

Tears welled up in her eyes, but I couldn’t let myself be moved by them, not now. My patience was unraveling, and my heart felt hollowed out. When the pack learned the truth, how would they feel? Betrayed, like I did now? They’d rallied around her, held vigils, offered every ounce of comfort they could, while I—while I mourned a mate who was perfectly fine. The trust they’d placed in her, the love and loyalty they’d shown to her as their Luna—how could she just... throw it away like this?

"Why, Leila?" I demanded, my voice barely concealing the frustration clawing its way out. "What could possibly make you do something like this?"

But as I looked at her, at the way her lips trembled as she searched for words, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to hear her answer. Her excuse that she wanted to prove her innocence couldn’t out weight the hurt she made the whole pack went through. if only she had spared the pack and hurt me....maybe....

My heart thundered with a fury and pain that felt endless. My own mate had put me through the deepest, darkest agony, leaving me to believe my other half was fading, while all along, it was just a twisted deception. Every day, I’d carried that weight, the dread of losing her, and it hadn’t stayed with just me; it had seeped through the pack, touching every member through the bond we shared. My wolf, Damien, had howled in anguish, caught in that suffocating sorrow. And the pack—they’d felt it too. Every ounce of my despair had resonated within them through the Alpha link, filling their hearts with my grief, my suffering. How could she? How could she twist the one bond that was supposed to be sacred, unbreakable?

Her betrayal filled me with a fury so hot, it threatened to burn through the control I had left. I looked at her, not the way a mate should look at their other half, but as someone who’d been deceived to their core. Every memory, every soft word, every act of love we’d shared now felt like a mockery. My chest tightened painfully as I tried to understand, to reconcile the woman I’d loved with the one standing before me.

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I even realized, but there was no pulling them back now. The truth was that, at that moment, I didn’t want to. I was too hurt, too betrayed. My voice boomed, filled with rage and grief. "I, Drake... Alpha of the Dark Moon Pack... reject Leila, Luna of the Dark Moon Pack."