Leila's POV:
What the hell is wrong with Drake?
He stormed in without a word, his jaw tight, eyes dark with anger. The intensity of his emotions rippled through our bond, suffocating me with the weight of his fury. It was like a heavy cloud had descended over him, filling the room with its tension. I could feel the pulse of his anger, but I had no idea why. He didn't say anything, didn't even look at me. Instead, he started rifling through my things, yanking drawers open with enough force to break them. His movements were sharp, almost frantic.
"Drake?" I called out, trying to keep my voice steady despite the unease creeping into my veins. "What are you doing?"
He didn't answer me. His face was a storm of emotions as he tore through my belongings, tossing clothes and items onto the floor without a care. His hands were trembling, a sign that whatever was boiling inside him was barely being held back.
