Avenging Luna
Chapter 50: Broken Bond

Chapter 50: Broken Bond

Drake’s POV:

All I saw was red.

The sight of my uncle, Raphael, looming over Leila, his hands on her—my mate—sent a searing fury through my veins, unlike anything I’d ever felt. The darkness inside me, the one I always fought to keep buried deep within, began to rise, threatening to take over. It was the side of me I never wanted Leila to see, the part that made other Alphas tremble when they heard my name. The beast in me—ruthless, bloodthirsty, and cold—was roaring to be unleashed.

I was at the doorway one moment, and in the next, I had flung Raphael across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening thud, and I was already halfway shifted, my body teetering between human and wolf. My face contorted, half-wolf, half-man, with sharp fangs bared. My hands had morphed into deadly claws. It only happened when my wolf and I were perfectly in sync, united in our shared rage, ready to unleash hell.

Raphael groaned, staggering to his feet, but before he could fully regain his balance, I was on him again. My claws wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground like a ragdoll. The sick pleasure I felt as his eyes widened with fear was undeniable. He knew. He knew there would be no mercy, not from me, not after what he had tried to do to my mate.

With a low growl, I slashed into his flesh, my claws tearing through muscle and sinew. Blood gushed from the wounds, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted him to suffer. A quick death would be too merciful, and I wasn’t feeling generous. I could hear Raphael’s gasps, his desperate attempts to heal, but I wouldn’t let him. Not yet.

"You dared," I growled, my voice unrecognizable even to myself. "You dared to touch her."

Each word was punctuated by another slash, each one more brutal than the last. I could feel the blood splatter on my face, smell the metallic tang of it in the air, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was making him pay.

His fingers. The same filthy fingers that had touched Leila.

I tightened my grip on his hand, bending his fingers back one by one until I heard the satisfying crack of bones snapping. He screamed, the sound raw and guttural, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t done.

My claws moved to his eyes next. He had dared to look at Leila with lust, and for that, he would lose the privilege of seeing ever again. With one swift motion, I plunged my claws into his eye socket, and with a savage twist, I ripped out his eye. Blood poured down his face as he howled in agony, clutching at the empty socket.

I reveled in the sound, the darkness inside me growing stronger. I was consumed by it, driven by the overwhelming need to make him suffer. I aimed for his manhood next, my claws poised for one final strike, when something stopped me.

The mate bond.

It went numb.

My heart, already filled with rage, seized in my chest. Leaving Raphael on the ground as he tried to hold his inside from spilling out from the slashes I had inflict on him desperate trying to heal himself. Slowly, I turned, my eyes finding Leila. She was standing there, her eyes wide and unseeing, her lips parted as though trying to speak. But before she could say anything, her body crumpled, her eyes rolling back into her head as she fainted.

The world seemed to stop. I stumbled toward her, my hands still dripping with Raphael’s blood, but my mind was no longer on him. It was all on her. Leila. My mate.

I fell to my knees beside her, cradling her limp body in my arms. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and her pulse was faint but steady. But something was wrong—terribly wrong. I couldn’t feel her. Through the mate bond, it was as if she wasn’t there. The connection that bound us, that had always been there like a warm thread connecting our souls, was broken. I reached out, desperately trying to feel her presence, her emotions, but there was nothing. Just a cold, empty void.

"No," I whispered, my voice hoarse with panic. "No, no, no."

I pressed my forehead against hers, my claws retracting as the beast inside me slowly receded. I couldn’t lose her. Not like this. My heart pounded in my chest, the fear of losing her suddenly overpowering the rage that had consumed me moments before.

I lifted her into my arms, holding her close as I sprinted out of the room. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but none of them made sense. Why couldn’t I feel her? What had happened to the bond?

I linked the healer, ordering them to be ready, my voice barely containing the urgency I felt. Lucas, my most trusted warrior, was next. I ordered him to find Raphael and lock him in the dungeon. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Raphael would pay. I would make sure of that.

But right now, Leila was all that mattered.

I burst into the healer’s room, my clothes soaked with Raphael’s blood, and Leila unconscious in my arms. The healer took one look at us and immediately sprang into action, clearing a bed and guiding me to lay her down. My hands shook as I placed her on the bed, her pale face haunting me.

"Is she—" I couldn’t finish the sentence. The words stuck in my throat like shards of glass.

"She’s breathing," the healer said, her hands glowing as she worked. "But I need to assess the bond."

I watched, helpless, as the healer moved her hands over Leila, murmuring spells I didn’t understand. My wolf paced inside me, anxious, clawing at the walls of my mind, desperate to protect our mate.

"She’s in shock," the healer finally said, her voice grim. "Her body is trying to heal, but something—something has blocked the mate bond. It’s severed."

Severed.

The word hit me like a punch to the gut. I staggered back, gripping the edge of the table for support. Severed? How was that even possible?

"No," I rasped, shaking my head. "There has to be a way to fix it."

The healer met my gaze, her expression sorrowful. "I’ll do everything I can, Alpha. But the connection you share—it’s been damaged. If we can’t restore it..." She trailed off, her eyes filled with pity.

I didn’t need her to finish. If the bond was truly severed, I would lose Leila. Even if she survived, the bond that tied us together—the bond that made us mates—would be gone forever.

The thought was unbearable.

I reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Leila’s face. Her skin was still warm, but she looked so fragile, so small. My chest tightened, guilt and fear warring inside me. I should have been there. I should have protected her.

I bent down, pressing my lips to her forehead. "I’ll fix this," I whispered, more to myself than to her. "I swear, I’ll fix this."

But as I stood there, watching the healer work, a sickening dread crept into my heart.

Because deep down, I wasn’t sure I could.