Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 1

Arya’s POV

I stood on the balcony of our apartment in the pack house, my hands gripping the railing as I watched the courtyard below. Evening draped itself over the compound, casting long shadows as pack members moved through the soft golden light, laughing, talking, living. But my heart wasn’t at ease.

James still hadn’t returned from his final meeting with Alpha Marcel of the Silverclaw pack. Every tick of the clock tightened the knot in my stomach. This wasn’t just another political formality; this was the moment everything we’d fought for could either take root or be ripped away.

James and I had poured our souls into building this pack from the ground up. No resources. No allies. Just grit, loyalty, and a dream. If the Silverclaw union accepted us, we’d no longer be exiles scraping out a home on the edges. We’d be recognised. Protected. We’d belong. And I wanted that for him more than anything.

A voice pulled me back to the present.

“Luna Arya, would you like me to do anything before I head home?” Jane asked gently.

I turned to face her, grateful for the distraction, but I shook my head.

“No, thank you,” I said quietly. There was nothing she, or anyone, could do to quiet the storm inside me. This was something I had to ride out on my own.

I stayed inside as the evening deepened, the weight of the day settling over me like a heavy blanket. Managing the pack had drained every ounce of energy I had. Eventually, sleep crept in and pulled me under.

Sometime in the quiet of night, I felt warm hands glide over me, gentle, familiar. Even through the haze of exhaustion, his scent stirred something deep within me. I blinked awake to find James leaning over me, his eyes locked onto mine with quiet intensity.

“Miss me?” he whispered, his voice soft and teasing.

“No…” I murmured, but the lie crumbled beneath the heat of his gaze.

He smirked, already knowing the truth, and pressed a kiss to the mark he’d left on my neck. A shiver ran through me as he trailed his lips down, then grinned against my skin before tickling me, pulling a laugh from my lips. Of course I missed him. I always would. He was my gravity, my calm in the chaos.

That night, he made love to me like he was memorising every part of me all over again, slow, intense, as if the world outside didn’t exist. When it was over, I lay curled in the safety of his arms, my ear pressed to his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

I could have stayed like that forever, but curiosity tugged at me.

“So… how did it go?” I asked, my voice quiet in the dark.

“He’s backing us. Marcel will support our joining the union,” James replied.

His words settled into the space between us like a promise fulfilled.

“That’s all you’ve ever wanted,” I said, shifting to look up at him, my fingers brushing his cheek. “You finally have it.”

“I remember,” I whispered.

“I meant every word. And I still do.” He reached up and touched my cheek, his palm warm and grounding. “No matter what happens, Arya, I love you. Everything I do, every move I make, is for us. So that we never have to live like ghosts again, scouring the edges of other people’s lands for shelter.”

His voice cracked ever so slightly, and the weight behind his words settled into my chest like stone.

“What kind of sacrifice are you talking about?” I asked, my voice barely more than a breath. “James… is there something you’re not telling me?”

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a moment, something flickered in his gaze. Regret. Resignation. Love.

He only shook his head, but this time his smile reached all the way to his eyes. It was warm and familiar and utterly disarming.

“No,” he said simply, as he pulled me back into his embrace.

He held me close, tighter than before, like he was trying to memorise the shape of me.

Sleep crept in again, but it was no longer as peaceful, not with the quiet question hanging between us, unanswered.