Avenging Luna
Chapter 56: My Story

Chapter 56: My Story

Leila’s POV:

The tension between us was suffocating, the air thick with unresolved anger and desire. Drake hadn’t looked at me the same since that night by the stream, his eyes cold, distant. I could feel the mate bond once more, buzzing beneath my skin, but it was weaker than before—like a thin thread that could snap at any moment.

I had to fix this. I had to make him understand that I wasn’t the enemy, that the sins of my parents didn’t define me. My heart ached at the thought of losing him, at the idea that the man I loved could be slipping away, drowned in his hatred for a past I had no part in. I stood outside his office door, taking a deep breath before knocking softly.

"Come in," came his voice, gruff and strained.

I stepped in, closing the door behind me quietly. He was seated at his desk, papers scattered in front of him, but his eyes were focused elsewhere—on thoughts darker than the night. He barely acknowledged me.

"Drake," I said softly, my voice trembling slightly. "We need to talk."

He didn’t respond immediately, his jaw clenching before he finally spoke, his tone sharp. "There’s nothing to talk about, Leila."

I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. I couldn’t show weakness, not now. "I didn’t what my parents—what they did, to affect us."

Drake’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, and the intensity in them nearly knocked the breath out of me. "It doesn’t matter. Their blood runs through your veins. That’s all I need to know."

His words were like knives, cutting into me, but I couldn’t give up. Not like this. I moved closer, my steps slow and deliberate, my wolf stirring inside me. Layla wanted him—craved him with a desperation I could barely control. But this wasn’t just about desire. This was about saving the man I loved.

"Drake, you can’t let this destroy us," I whispered, standing just inches from him. "You’re my mate. We’re bound by more than blood."

His eyes flashed with something—anger, lust, pain. He stood abruptly, towering over me, and for a moment, I thought he would push me away. But he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful. "Don’t do this, Leila," he growled. "You don’t know what you’re asking."

"I do," I breathed, stepping even closer, my body brushing against his. I felt the heat of him, the pull of the mate bond thrumming through me, urging me to close the distance between us. "I know exactly what I’m asking."

His grip tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might push me away. But then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me against him. His lips crashed into mine with a hunger that sent sparks shooting through my entire body. I kissed him back fiercely, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

For a moment, it felt like everything was right again, like the bond between us had snapped back into place, stronger than ever. But then he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes full of torment.

"This doesn’t change anything," he said, his voice hoarse. "You’re still their daughter. I made a vow on my parents’ graves."

I shook my head, desperation clawing at me. "Drake, please. Don’t do this. Don’t push me away because of something I had no control over."

His gaze hardened, his jaw set. "I’ve lived my whole life waiting for the moment to avenge them. I can’t just forget that."

Tears welled in my eyes as I realized the gravity of his words. He wasn’t going to let this go. No matter how much we loved each other, no matter how strong our bond was, his need for revenge was stronger.

"Don’t make me choose between you and my parents," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Because you won’t like the answer."

And just like that, he released me, stepping back as if putting distance between us would sever the bond. My heart shattered as I watched him turn away, retreating into the darkness of his own pain.

"Drake!" I called after him, but he didn’t turn around.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone in the room, my chest heaving with the weight of everything I was about to lose.

Well, it seems I had no choice now. If there was any chance of getting Drake back, I had to come clean—completely. I never wanted him to find out about my childhood, to know just how weak and pathetic I had been back then. I didn’t want his pity. I didn’t want him to look at me and see the broken girl I had worked so hard to bury. But now, that seemed like the only way to make him understand that I had no connection with those people.

So be it.

He needed to hear the full truth, not the half-truths I had been giving him. He needed to know that I didn’t consider them my parents—because they never considered me their child. The Moonshine Pack had been nothing but a prison for me, a place where I was an outcast, a mistake they tried to hide. They had treated me like dirt, like I was a burden, something to be thrown away at the first opportunity. How could I ever be loyal to them?

And Drake... he would need to know that I supported him, fully, in his quest to avenge his parents. In fact, I wanted it just as much as he did. They were next on my list after I finished with the Blood Moon Pack. My so-called "family" had betrayed me, just like they had betrayed him. Instead of being divided by this past, we could unite in our vengeance, make them all pay for what they had done to us. Together, we could be unstoppable.

Tonight I would wait for him. I would tell him everything—reveal all the ugly pieces of myself that I had kept hidden. I had no other option.

Drake had moved out of our room, claiming that sleeping next to the daughter of his parents’ murderers felt like a betrayal. His words had cut me deeply, leaving wounds I didn’t know how to heal. I tried to understand his pain, his anger... but it didn’t make it hurt any less. I had hoped that the mate bond would be enough to fix everything, to draw us closer again, to bring back the love we once shared. But I was wrong.

The mate bond was powerful, yes, but it wasn’t the solution to all my problems. It didn’t erase the betrayal he felt or the hatred he now harbored for the blood in my veins. If it were enough, he wouldn’t detest me the way he did now.

No, what made us strong—what had always made us strong—wasn’t just the bond. It was the trust, the love, the communication. The bond only drew us together, but we were the ones who had to build the foundation of what we were. And right now, that foundation was crumbling beneath us.

I would wait for him in his room tonight. He needed to know the truth, to hear every dark and painful detail about my past. Only then could I hope to rebuild what was shattered. Only then could I hope that he would look at me again, not with disgust, but with the love we once shared.

But as I stood in the dim light of his room, heart pounding in my chest, I couldn’t shake the fear that maybe... it was already too late.