Avenging Luna
Chapter 61: Echoes of Vengeance

Chapter 61: Echoes of Vengeance

Leila’s POV

After breakfast, Drake told me he was heading to the dungeon to get answers from Raphael. It didn’t take much to understand why he chose this route. Raphael had been his uncle—the very man who was supposed to protect him, not conspire against his family. I offered to go with him, already knowing what his response would be. And as expected, he rejected the idea outright before I could even finish my sentence.

I knew why he was so quick to say no. The memory of Alpha Vanvil forcing me to torture his prisoners was a shadow that always lurked just beneath the surface. He’d threaten me—either I do his bidding, or I become his next victim. There was no way out of his twisted games. Vanvil had forced me to do despicable things to people who had already suffered enough. In his own sick way, he enjoyed stripping away the innocent part of me and molding me into a tool for his own cruel pleasures. He taught me how to make people spill secrets they never intended to tell. His sick pleasure came from turning me into a tool of torture.

Drake knew all of this. He knew the trauma that lingered behind my hardened façade, and he was terrified that being in the dungeon again might trigger those old memories, forcing me to relive the horrors I’d endured. But I wasn’t that fragile girl anymore. Ever since I regained control of my human side, Layla and I had become stronger, more united. She was no longer just the wolf who carried me through my struggles; she was part of me now—both mentally and physically. Together, we had overcome the darkness that once held me captive. I wasn’t going to let those old ghosts control me anymore.

After a few more assurances, Drake finally relented and allowed me to accompany him. But he was firm in one condition—I wasn’t allowed to watch him interrogate Raphael. He made me promise to wait outside. I understood why, but part of me knew that whatever answers Raphael held, they would change both our futures forever. I needed to be there.

The dungeon was cold and damp, the stone walls echoing with distant drips of water and the metallic clink of chains. It smelled of decay, like the place had absorbed centuries of pain and suffering. As Drake went inside, I waited, but the minutes dragged on like hours. The muffled screams from within twisted my gut, but they also reminded me of the girl I used to be, the one who was forced to inflict that same pain.

Time stretched on, and the sounds of Raphael’s agony seemed endless. I tried to focus on my own thoughts, but they were consumed by the questions swirling in my mind. How much longer could Raphael hold out? What would it take to break him?

I couldn’t wait any longer. My heart pounded as I walked toward the heavy door and pushed it open. Inside, I found Drake holding a pair of tweezers, pressing them deep into Raphael’s flesh. The man who once had power over us all was now a broken shell, his face bloodied and bruised, yet he still held onto his arrogance. re

When Raphael saw me, his bloodied lips twisted into a sneer. "So, my dear nephew didn’t have the balls to send you away," he spat, his voice thick with mockery.

"Shut the fuck up," Drake growled as he landed another punch on Raphael’s face, sending a fresh tooth flying from his mouth.

But Raphael wasn’t done. His twisted sense of humor bubbled to the surface again. "What would your parents think, Drake? If they saw you now, fucking the child of their killers?"

The air in the room turned cold, my stomach knotting as those words hit both Drake and me like a dagger. I didn’t wait for Drake’s response. I stepped forward, heart racing, adrenaline surging through my veins. "Let me do it," I said firmly, not breaking eye contact with Raphael.

Drake hesitated, his gaze locking onto mine, searching for any sign of weakness. But there was none. I had come too far to be reduced to my past again. With a reluctant nod, he stepped aside.

Raphael laughed, his bloody teeth glinting under the dim torchlight. "What’s this little girl going to do, huh? You couldn’t even handle your father without crying like a pathetic—"

I didn’t let him finish. The moment Drake moved aside, I went to work. Alpha Vanvil may have broken me once, but he also taught me how to break others. I wasn’t proud of it, but today, I needed to use that knowledge. It was time to make Raphael sing. A little wolfbane here, a little silver there and some few cuts at the most sensitive parts and viola your victim will be singing his secretes. Not forgetting to play with your victims psychology. They always think you’ll demand answer talk to them but silence is the best torture. They wouldn’t know what you want so they’ll just say whatever they have to hide.

I started simple. A little wolfbane here, a touch of silver there—just enough to start making him uncomfortable. It wasn’t long before his cockiness melted into thinly veiled fear. Every scream that echoed through the dungeon made my stomach churn, but I pushed forward. I couldn’t let those old emotions cloud my mission.

Raphael’s laughter faded, replaced by groans of pain. Drake watched me closely, silently, as if weighing whether I’d crossed a line. But I wasn’t doing this out of vengeance or anger. I was doing it for answers—for both of us. I took a small sharp silver knife from the tools and started my cuts at the most sensitive parts of his body while waiting for the liquidized silver I asked for earlier. As I was almost done the molten silver came and I could see Raphael’s disbelieve. "fucking stop you sick bitch!" he shouted. After another minute with the silver and the cuts I had made he was panting.

"Please," he gasped, his voice a tortured whisper. "I’ll tell you everything. Just stop!"

It didn’t take long before Raphael started talking. Words poured out of his mouth as I pressed deeper into his wounds, revealing secrets I didn’t even know existed. Through his twisted confessions, I learned that my father, the Alpha of the Moonshine Pack, had conspired with Raphael to kill Drake’s parents. It wasn’t some random act of violence—it had been carefully planned. They intended to wipe out Drake’s entire bloodline, to take control of his pack and everything that came with it.

"You should have died that night, too," Raphael hissed through his pain, his voice barely audible over the sound of his labored breathing. "But you survived. You always survive, don’t you, Drake? You and your cursed blood."

He spat at the floor, clearly bitter that Drake had slipped through his fingers. "It was supposed to be easy. Kill the Alpha, the Luna, and their little heir. Then the pack would be ours to command. But no, the ’stupid brat’ survived." His voice was seething with resentment.

Drake’s eyes darkened as he stood behind me, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. The weight of Raphael’s words hung heavy in the air, thick with betrayal.

"We would have finished the job," Raphael wheezed, his voice growing weaker as blood trickled down his chin. "But the pack rallied around you, protecting you like you were some goddamn hero. Your parents may be dead, but you... you were always the real prize." If not for the former Beta who had taken Drake under his care and manage the pack till Drake was capable enough to handle the responsibilities of the pack, Raphael would have succeeded in his wicked plans.

It was all out in the open now. Drake’s uncle, the man who had once been family, had been the mastermind behind his parents’ murder. And now, after all these years, Drake finally had the answers he had been searching for.

I stood, my body trembling with a mixture of adrenaline and exhaustion. Raphael slumped in his chains, his body broken, but his spirit still defiant. He looked at me one last time, his gaze cold and unfeeling. "And you, little girl, are no different. Your blood will always tie you to their sins. You’ll never escape it."

But I wasn’t afraid of his words. Not anymore. "I’m not my father," I said softly, but firmly. "And you will never control me again."

Drake stepped forward, his presence strong and unwavering. For a moment, we stood side by side, united in our shared pain and betrayal. We had both lost so much, but now, standing in the same room with the man responsible, I knew we had found a new path. Together.

As we walked out of the dungeon, the echoes of Raphael’s screams still lingered in the air, but they no longer haunted me. The past was finally laid bare, and with it, the promise of a future that we could rebuild together.