Avenging Luna
Chapter 81: The Thunder Before the Storm

Chapter 81: The Thunder Before the Storm

Drake’s POV:

I paced the length of my office, barely containing the fury bubbling inside me. Marcus’s death was a problem I didn’t need right now—yet another knot in the tangled mess Raphael had left behind. I slammed my fist down onto the desk, the solid thud reverberating in the otherwise silent room. Leila sat on the edge of the desk, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in deep thought. I could tell she was trying to piece together how this had happened under our noses.

Lucas walked in, his face grim. "The dungeon is sealed. No one’s getting in or out until we figure out who’s behind this."

I turned toward him, the weight of frustration heavy in my chest. "It has to be someone close, Lucas. Someone with access and knowledge of our routines." I was seething at the thought that someone within the pack—someone I trusted—had betrayed us.

Lucas nodded, crossing his arms. "There’s no way a stranger could’ve gotten that close without being noticed. Whoever it is... they know how we work."

******

It had been days since Marcus’s death, and still, we had no solid lead on who was responsible. Days of endless questioning, dead ends, and frustratingly vague clues. The entire pack could feel the tension seeping through the air—like a storm that lingered just beyond the horizon, refusing to break.

And I was furious.

Sitting in my office, I stared at the files scattered across my desk. Reports, interviews, surveillance logs—nothing. Every time I thought we had a lead, it slipped away like smoke through my fingers. Whoever had killed Marcus was good—too good. It had to be someone who knew our routines, someone who understood how we operated. But even with all our resources and informants, the culprit was still a ghost, haunting us, mocking our inability to bring them to justice.

I slammed my fist onto the desk, the sound echoing through the room. Lucas looked up from across the room where he was poring over the same damn reports, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. We were both feeling the weight of it—of the failure. Marcus might have been a traitor, but he was still someone I had grown up with. The fact that someone had gotten close enough to kill him in the dungeon, under our watch, without leaving a trace? It made my blood boil.

"I can’t believe we still have nothing," I growled, pushing the papers aside in frustration. "Days, Lucas. It’s been days, and we’re no closer to finding out who did this."

Lucas leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, and sighed. "I know. It doesn’t make sense. We’ve questioned everyone who had access to the dungeons. We’ve gone through the guard rotations, and still, no one saw anything suspicious."

"Someone is lying," I spat, pacing around the room. "Someone knows something, and they’re either too scared or too loyal to speak up. We have to find out who it is, and we have to do it fast."

I could feel the rage simmering beneath my skin, coiling tighter and tighter as the days passed with no answers. It wasn’t just Marcus’s death that was eating at me—it was what his death represented. Raphael’s final taunt still echoed in my head, his warning that he had set plans in motion before his execution. Marcus had known what those plans were. He could have told us. But now, thanks to whoever killed him, we were left in the dark.

And that was something I couldn’t stand.

I stopped pacing and looked at Lucas. "We’re missing something. Some detail, some angle. It’s there, I know it is. We just have to figure out what."

Lucas ran a hand through his hair, his expression grim. "We’ll keep pushing. I’m sure we’ll find it soon, Drake. But I get the feeling that whatever this is, it’s bigger than we realize."

I nodded, my mind racing. Something about all of this felt... off. Too well-planned. Too clean. I couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever was behind Marcus’s murder was playing a much larger game than we were aware of—and we were just the pawns.

But as furious as I was about the investigation, there was something else gnawing at me—something far more personal, something I couldn’t ignore any longer.

Leila.

Her health had been deteriorating, slowly but surely, over the past few days. At first, it had been subtle—her energy levels dipping, her appetite waning. But now? Now, it was getting worse. She was pale, weaker than she’d ever been, and no matter how much I tried to hide it, I was terrified.

I had brought in the best healers, the finest doctors, and yet none of them could explain what was happening to her. They all said the same thing: "It could just be the pregnancy. Sometimes these things happen." But I wasn’t buying it. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t right. And the worst part? Leila wasn’t telling me everything. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she brushed off my concerns, insisting she was fine, that it was nothing.

But I knew better.

I knew when she was lying. I could see the exhaustion in her face, the way she forced a smile for my benefit. It killed me to watch her like this, slowly fading in front of my eyes, and yet she refused to let me help her.

I couldn’t focus on the investigation when all I wanted to do was make sure she was okay.

"Drake?" Lucas’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. He was watching me closely, his eyes full of concern. "You okay?"

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that had settled over my mind. "No. No, I’m not. Something’s wrong with Leila, and I don’t know what it is."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "She’s been acting strange?"

"She’s been getting weaker," I said, my voice low. "Tired. She’s not herself. The healers say it’s just the pregnancy, but I don’t believe it. I can feel it, Lucas. Something’s wrong, and she’s not telling me."

Lucas frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "Have you confronted her about it?"

"I’ve tried," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "But she keeps brushing me off, saying she’s fine. But I know she’s not. I can feel it. She’s hiding something."

Lucas leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "Could it be stress? Everything that’s been going on with Raphael, Marcus... it’s a lot to handle. Maybe she’s just feeling the weight of all of it."

I shook my head, clenching my fists. "It’s more than that. I know her, Lucas. This isn’t just stress. There’s something else, and I need to figure out what it is before it’s too late."

Lucas didn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze steady on me. Then, he nodded slowly. "You’re right. If something’s wrong, we need to get to the bottom of it. I’ll keep an eye on the pack business. You focus on Leila. Make sure she’s okay."

I nodded, grateful for his support. "Thanks, Lucas."

The relief of having him take over the pack business was fleeting. My mind was too consumed with worry for Leila. My mate, my Luna, the mother of my child—she was everything, and I couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that I was losing her. I needed answers. I needed her to tell me what was really going on.

Leaving the office, I headed straight for our room. Every step felt heavier, weighed down by the uncertainty hanging over me. Marcus’s murder, Raphael’s warning, the mystery of Leila’s declining health—it was all crashing down at once. But right now, nothing mattered more than Leila.

When I entered our room, she was sitting by the window, her usual spot. The soft glow of the afternoon sun cast a golden hue over her pale skin, and for a moment, she looked peaceful. But I knew better. Her hand rested lightly on her growing belly, but her posture was tense, like she was bracing herself for something.

"Leila," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "We need to talk."

She looked up at me, her eyes bright but tired. "What is it?" she asked softly, though I could tell from the slight tremor in her voice that she already knew what this was about.

I walked over and sat next to her, taking her hand in mine. It felt so small and fragile, and that scared me more than I wanted to admit.

"You’re not well," I said, my voice thick with concern. "And don’t tell me it’s just the pregnancy. I can see it, Leila. You’re getting weaker every day. What’s happening to you?"

She sighed, looking away from me, her gaze drifting out the window. "Drake, I... I didn’t want to worry you."

I squeezed her hand gently. "Worry me? You’re my mate, my Luna. How can I not worry when I see you like this?"

She turned back to me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I didn’t want to burden you with this. Not with everything else going on. The pack needs you. You’ve been dealing with Raphael, Marcus... I didn’t want to add to your stress."

I shook my head, feeling a wave of frustration and helplessness. "Leila, you and our child are my priority. Nothing—nothing—is more important than you. Please, tell me what’s going on."

She hesitated, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t tell me. But then she took a deep breath, her eyes closing briefly before she met my gaze again.

"It started a few weeks ago," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was feeling more tired than usual. I thought it was just the pregnancy, but then I started getting these... strange pains. My appetite changed, and I started feeling nauseous all the time, but not like morning sickness. It was different. I didn’t want to worry you, so I kept it to myself. But then... it got worse."

My heart sank. She had been suffering, and I hadn’t even noticed the full extent of it.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. I wasn’t angry at her—I was angry at myself for not seeing it sooner, for not pressing her to open up.

"I didn’t want to seem weak," she admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "You’ve been under so much pressure, and I didn’t want to be another problem you had to fix."

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to me. "Leila, you are not a problem. You are my mate. My life. You should never feel like you have to hide things from me."

She melted into my embrace, and I felt her shaking slightly, as though she had been holding everything in for too long.