Avenging Luna
Chapter 45: Coming of Raphael

Chapter 45: Coming of Raphael

Drake’s POV:

Leila had been acting off for days before Raphael’s arrival. She was distant, almost jittery, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something again. It wasn’t just the secrecy anymore—it was her entire demeanor. She tried different things to avoid my questions, like suddenly donning wigs, claiming she was going for a new look. But I knew her well enough by now to sense when she was nervous. And this wasn’t about fashion.

Whenever I mentioned her strange behavior, she brushed it off, smiling sweetly and telling me not to worry. But the mate bond between us had a way of betraying her. I could feel the tension rolling off her, the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. And the closer it got to Raphael’s arrival, the worse it became.

When Raphael finally arrived, the air between us grew thick. The moment he stepped out of his car, I felt Leila stiffen next to me. It wasn’t a subtle reaction either—her entire body went rigid, and for a second, I thought she might bolt. I glanced at her, narrowing my eyes at the way she kept adjusting the wig she was wearing. This wasn’t just about a new look; she was trying to hide something.

Raphael approached, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he walked toward us. His eyes swept over me before landing on Leila. And then, I saw it—the look. It was subtle, but unmistakable. The way his gaze lingered on her, almost as if he was searching for something, recognition flickering behind his eyes. I didn’t like it. Not one bit. I didn’t say anything, though. Instead, I kept my expression neutral, not wanting to show my unease.

Leila greeted him with a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her voice was steady as they exchanged pleasantries, but there was a tension in her posture, a stiffness that she couldn’t quite hide. They greeted each other like strangers, but something about the interaction felt off. It was too formal, too measured.

Raphael turned to me after they exchanged pleasantries, his face splitting into a wide grin. "Drake, you’re a lucky man," he said, his voice smooth but laced with something I couldn’t place. "Finding your mate... it’s a gift."

I nodded, forcing a smile of my own. "I am lucky," I replied, though my eyes flicked toward Leila for a moment, wondering if she was still keeping things from me.

Raphael’s eyes caught the mark on my neck, the one Leila had given me when we’d mated. He stared at it for a long moment, his brows furrowing slightly as if something about it puzzled him. His gaze shifted between me and Leila, and for a brief second, I thought he was going to ask about it. But he didn’t. He just gave a small, tight-lipped smile before moving on.

Still, the tension didn’t dissipate. If anything, it thickened, especially between Leila and Raphael. He was polite, charming even, but I didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered toward Leila whenever he thought I wasn’t looking. There was something there—some kind of history I wasn’t privy to.

Leila stood quietly by my side, her eyes cast downward, avoiding Raphael’s gaze. I knew her well enough to tell that she was holding back, hiding something. Every fiber in my being screamed at me to press her for answers, to demand that she stop hiding whatever it was that made her so nervous. But I couldn’t—not here, not now.

Raphael and I exchanged a few more words about pack business, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t stop thinking about that look in Raphael’s eyes, that recognition, no matter how brief it had been. And Leila’s reaction to him—cold, distant, as if she was terrified of what might happen if she let her guard down.

Finally, Raphael excused himself, promising to catch up with me later. As he walked away, I turned to Leila, my eyes narrowing. "What was that about?" I asked, my voice low but sharp.

Leila blinked, her face carefully neutral. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," I said, my voice barely a whisper, not wanting to draw attention. "The way Raphael looked at you—he recognized you, didn’t he?"

Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly schooled her expression. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Drake."

My frustration surged, but I kept my tone steady. "Leila, don’t lie to me. Not again."

She swallowed, her eyes darting to where Raphael had disappeared. "It’s nothing," she said quickly, but her voice wavered. "He’s probably just curious about the mark, that’s all."

I didn’t believe her for a second. The bond between us pulsed with her anxiety, her fear. She was hiding something, and whatever it was, it had to do with Raphael.

But I couldn’t push her, not here, not now. Instead, I clenched my jaw and nodded, though the suspicion gnawed at me. "Fine," I said, my voice tight. "But we’re not done with this conversation, Leila. Not by a long shot."

She didn’t respond, just stood there, her hands twisting nervously at her sides. And as much as I wanted to confront her, to demand the truth, I knew this wasn’t the time.

But one thing was certain—whatever Leila was hiding, it was only a matter of time before it all came to light. And when it did, there was no telling how it would change everything between us.

Leila’s POV:

I could feel it in my bones, the tension that wrapped itself around me like a noose tightening with every step Raphael took closer. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or dread, but the moment his car pulled up, everything inside me went cold.

The past days had been unbearable. I knew I was acting strange, avoiding Drake’s questions, slipping on wigs to disguise myself, but I had to. I needed to stay hidden. If Raphael recognized me, everything would unravel. My secret, my real identity—everything I’ve worked so hard to bury. And worse, Drake would find out. I couldn’t let that happen. Not now.

The sound of Raphael’s footsteps crunching on the gravel was like a countdown. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, my pulse loud in my ears. I kept my expression calm, but I knew Drake could sense my discomfort. He hadn’t stopped watching me since the moment I started acting differently, and I could tell he was suspicious.

As Raphael approached us, I forced myself to smile, though my fingers trembled slightly as I brushed the wig’s fringe into place. He greeted me politely, and I matched his tone, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on. His eyes flickered over me, scanning my face, my posture, as if searching for something. I tried not to react, to act like this was just another normal meeting, but my gut churned.

"You’re a lucky man, Drake," Raphael said, his gaze lingering on me for just a second too long before turning back to Drake. "Finding your mate... it’s a gift."

Drake’s arm tightened slightly around my waist, and I forced a smile, though my mind was miles away. Lucky? If only Raphael knew the truth—if only Drake knew the truth. The weight of my secret felt heavier than ever.

Then, Raphael’s eyes landed on the mark. The one I had given Drake when we mated. His brows furrowed, and my stomach twisted painfully. He stared at it for what felt like an eternity, a curious look crossing his face, but thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Still, my blood ran cold. What if he asked about it? What if he recognized what it truly meant?

I tried to steady my breathing, forcing myself to act natural, but my hands wouldn’t stop trembling. Every muscle in my body was taut, waiting for the moment when Raphael would call me out, when everything I had built would collapse.

But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded, as if satisfied, and turned back to Drake, continuing their conversation. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. I couldn’t relax. Not yet.

As they talked, I stood there, feeling like I was balancing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move away from falling into an abyss I couldn’t crawl out of. My mind raced. Should I tell Drake the truth? Should I confess that I wasn’t just some ordinary wolf? That I was an Alpha’s daughter? His mate. My parents had murdered his, and I was the living embodiment of everything that destroyed his family.

No. I couldn’t.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, as Raphael finally walked away. Drake turned to me, his eyes narrowing. I could feel his suspicion radiating off him, the mate bond pulsing with his frustration. "What was that about?" he asked, his voice low, but sharp.

My heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "The way Raphael looked at you—he recognized you, didn’t he?"

I blinked, keeping my face as neutral as I could manage. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Drake."

He didn’t believe me. I could see it in his eyes, in the way his jaw clenched. "Leila, don’t lie to me. Not again."

Guilt twisted inside me, but I couldn’t tell him. If he knew the truth, he’d hate me. And worse, if Raphael recognized me and exposed everything, I wasn’t sure how I would survive Drake’s wrath.

"It’s nothing," I said quickly, my voice wavering. "He’s probably just curious about the mark, that’s all."

I knew he didn’t believe me. And honestly, I didn’t blame him. How many half-truths had I fed him? How many lies had I wrapped around our relationship? I hated it. I hated lying to him. But what choice did I have? If he knew the truth about my family, about who I really was, he would never look at me the same way again. And I couldn’t lose him. Not now.

His eyes searched mine, frustration and hurt swirling in the depths. "Fine," he said finally, his voice tight. "But we’re not done with this conversation, Leila. Not by a long shot."