Avenging Luna
Chapter 62: Sexy when Dark

Chapter 62: Sexy when Dark

Drake’s POV:

I admit, I was scared. Not just the kind of fear you feel in battle, but something deeper—fear of losing her. The memory of when Raphael attacked her still haunted me. That moment when she slipped away, when I couldn’t protect her... it ate away at me every day. Now, knowing she was here with me, after all the pain and danger we’d faced, the thought of losing her again was unbearable.

I was scared because Leila had become more than just a mate. She was my anchor, my reason to keep fighting. I couldn’t afford to lose her—not again, not ever. The world could crumble around me, but as long as I had her, I would survive. Without her, I didn’t know who I’d be anymore. That realization hit me hard, and for the first time in my life, I realized that my entire being was intertwined with hers.

I had promised my parents I would avenge them—that I would eliminate the whole bloodline of their killers. But now, standing here, looking at her peaceful face as she slept, I knew something had changed. My parents loved me too much to want me to sacrifice my happiness for revenge. And Leila, she was my happiness.

Revenge for my parents was still necessary. They deserved justice for what had happen to them, but Leila was not part of that equation. She didn’t belong to the bloodline that betrayed us. She had her own story, her own pain. And I couldn’t hold her accountable for what her father or Alpha Vanvil had done. She had already paid her own price.

Leila had suffered more than I could ever imagine, and she didn’t deserve to carry the burden of my family’s vengeance. She had been born into a cruel world, abandoned by the very people who were supposed to protect her, and forced to become someone she never wanted to be. But despite all of that, she was still standing, still fighting. And I couldn’t—wouldn’t—turn my back on her.

I wanted to love her the way my father loved my mother. Deeply, fiercely, without hesitation. I wanted to be the kind of mate who would protect her, who would build a life with her that wasn’t tainted by the darkness of our pasts. I would give her the happiness she deserved, the life we both craved. Revenge wasn’t just about my parents anymore; it was about avenging her, too. The people who had hurt her, who had used her, they would pay. And I would make sure of that.

Her parents had treated Leila like she was nothing. He had tormented her, manipulated her, even though she was family by blood. I guess blood meant nothing to him. But to me, blood was more than just a lineage. It was loyalty, love, and protection. And Leila was now part of my blood—part of my heart. She had her own path to follow, her own choices to make. I wouldn’t hold her past against her.

I couldn’t be that kind of mate—the one who punishes her for things she had no control over. I wasn’t that kind of man. I wouldn’t become the monster that Vanvil was, or the twisted parents hers had turned out to be. I was better than that. I had to be—for her, for us.

I promised myself then and there that I would protect her at all costs. Whatever storm was coming, whatever battles lay ahead, we would face them together. I wasn’t going to lose her again.

**Drake’s POV:**

When Leila offered to come to the dungeon with me, I vehemently refused. There was no way I would willingly place her in a situation where I could lose her again. After everything we had been through, the mere thought of her in danger sent a wave of fear crashing over me. I couldn’t allow it, wouldn’t allow it. She was the most important thing in my life now.

I knew what awaited in that dungeon. Raphael—the man who had betrayed my family—was not only ruthless but cunning. For years, he had plotted in the shadows, waiting to strike when the time was right. Torturing information out of him wasn’t going to be easy, and I had no idea how far I would have to go to get the truth. It wasn’t a place for Leila, not after everything she had been through.

She begged and assured me over and over again that she was fine. Her strength shone through every word, and I could see the determination in her eyes. It was that fierce independence and resilience that made me love her even more. Still, I couldn’t shake the fear. What if something happened? What if she broke under the weight of her past? What if she remembered all the horrific things Vanvil made her do and it crushed her spirit?

But Leila wasn’t that girl anymore, and she made sure I knew that. She promised, again and again, that she could handle it. After a while, her persistence wore me down, and I relented.

"Fine," I finally said, my voice rough. "But on one condition—you stay outside. You wait for me. I don’t want you anywhere near Raphael."

Her silence was the answer I needed. She understood, even though I could see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. But she agreed, and that was enough for me. I needed to get answers from Raphael, and I needed to do it without worrying about Leila. She had been through enough, and this was a burden I had to bear alone.

As we headed toward the dungeon, I felt the weight of what was coming pressing down on me. Raphael was my uncle—family by blood, but nothing more than a traitor in my eyes. He had conspired with others to destroy everything I loved, to take away the people who meant the most to me. My parents...

My fists clenched as I thought about their deaths. They had raised me with love, given me everything they could. And Raphael had taken that away for power. The very idea of it sickened me. I needed to know the truth, no matter how much blood I had to spill to get it.

We reached the dungeon, a cold, damp place filled with the stench of decay. The stone walls seemed to pulse with the energy of those who had been tortured here before. Raphael sat shackled in the center, his face a mask of defiance despite his obvious discomfort. He had been held here for days, but his arrogance remained.

Leila waited outside, as promised, though I could feel her presence just beyond the door. It gave me strength knowing she was there, even if she couldn’t witness what was about to happen.

Raphael’s eyes flickered toward me as I approached. There was no warmth, no remorse in his gaze—only smug satisfaction. He knew why I was here.

"Drake," he greeted me, his voice dripping with false civility. "Come to finally get some answers?"

I didn’t respond with words. Instead, I grabbed the metal chair in front of him, dragging it across the stone floor until it screeched and stopped right before him. I sat down, leaning forward, letting the silence stretch between us.

"You know why I’m here," I said coldly. "And you know what I want."

"I see you finally grew a backbone, nephew," Raphael spat, his voice rough but dripping with mockery. "Come to finish what your parents started? Or are you here to cry about your dead mother again?"

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, I grabbed a pair of tweezers from the table and pressed them into his flesh, eliciting a low, painful groan from him. The smell of burning flesh filled the room as I twisted the metal deeper. But Raphael, stubborn as always, refused to give me anything useful.

Raphael chuckled, shaking his head. "You’ve got your father’s temper, but you always were too soft, Drake. You think torturing me will change anything? You’re too late. The past is written, and nothing you do can bring them back."

My fist shot out, smashing against his jaw. His head whipped to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. But that smug grin stayed firmly in place.

"Is that all you’ve got?" he sneered, spitting blood onto the floor. "Your father would be disappointed."

The rage burned through me, but I kept it in check. I wouldn’t let him manipulate me. Not this time.

"I’m not here to be like my father," I said through gritted teeth. "I’m here for the truth."

Leila’s presence outside weighed heavily on my mind, and part of me wanted to end this quickly so I could return to her. But I needed answers. I needed to know why he had done this, why he had betrayed our blood, our family.

"You think you can break me?" Raphael sneered through the pain. "You’re just like your father. Weak. Always trying to do the right thing, but never willing to get your hands dirty."

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the tweezers. "You don’t get to talk about my father," I growled, feeling the familiar rage simmering beneath the surface.

The torture began. I wasn’t proud of what I did, but there was no other way to get answers from someone like Raphael. Silver, wolfbane—every tool at my disposal. Each time he refused to answer, I pressed harder. His screams echoed off the walls, but he stayed defiant.

Hours passed, and still, I had nothing. No answers, no admissions. Just more mocking laughter and bitter words. It was like he enjoyed the pain, like he fed off it.

Before I could press him further, the door creaked open, and Leila stepped inside. My heart lurched in my chest. She wasn’t supposed to see this—wasn’t supposed to witness the ugliness of what I was doing. But she was here now, standing tall and unflinching, her eyes locked onto Raphael. She had promised to stay out, but I knew she couldn’t. She was a fighter, always had been.