Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 11

11 Trapped With Teeth

Arya’s Point of View

My throat tightened.

We’d just met.

I couldn’t overstep.

I couldn’t throw my desperation at a man I didn’t know and call it hope..

So I swallowed it.

I pushed the thought down.

And when the pressure in my chest became too much, I stood.

“Excuse me,” I said quietly.

Lev looked up immediately. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a small smile. “Just… the restroom.”

He nodded once. “I’ll be here.”

Maxwell watched me as I walked away, his gaze sharp like he could see the crack behind

my calm.

I didn’t look back.

I made it to the restroom corridor and slipped inside, closing the door behind me.

The quiet hit like relief.

I braced my hands on the sink and took one shaky breath.

Then the door opened.

And Rebecca Rainhorn stepped in.

The restroom door opened behind me.

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Rebecca Rainhorn walked in like she owned the air.

Then she laughed.

Not a soft laugh. Not amused.

The kind of laugh meant to remind you who she thought you were.

I kept my eyes on the mirror, fixing my makeup with steady fingers.

Rebecca’s heels clicked closer.

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“Well,” she drawled, “you’re certainly living up to the name most rogue bitches are known

for.”

I didn’t flinch.

Her smile widened when I didn’t react.

“Cozing up to Lev,” she continued, voice dripping with mockery, “won’t save you from what

we have planned for you.”

I capped my lipstick slowly. “Planned?”

Rebecca leaned on the counter beside me, head tilted. “In Lev’s eyes, you’re soothing. Cute.

Something to pass the time.”

I turned slightly, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

She kept smiling.

“But to the rest of us,” she added, “you’re entertainment.”

I let out a small laugh, sharp, unimpressed. “That’s a lot of energy for a woman who claims I

don’t matter.”

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“And don’t be foolish,” she went on, as if she hadn’t heard me. “Lev is already engaged. You

‘re wasting your time.”

I blinked slowly, then smiled at my own reflection. “You really are bothered.”

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Rebecca didn’t speak at first.

She stared at me for a beat, then smirked like she’d decided to change tactics.

“There is a new Luna in this pack,” she said smoothly. “Everyone already knows who that

is.”

I set my makeup down. Carefully. Deliberately.

Rebecca’s voice lowered, turning cruel.

“I wonder how long you’ll be tough,” she murmured, “when my daughter completely

replaces you.”

I faced her fully now.

Rebecca’s eyes held mine like a challenge.

“James is under our thumb,” she said. “We own everything now. This pack, this land, your

future.” Her smile sharpened. “So you’re better off behaving.”

I didn’t speak.

Rebecca leaned in, voice sweet as poison.

J

“Or I will make sure you end up out on the street,” she whispered. “And you and the bastard

you’re carrying won’t survive.”

My blood went cold.

My breath stopped for half a second.

She knew.

My hand tightened on the counter edge, nails pressing into the marble.

Shock tried to rise, but I crushed it down.

Because only two people knew.

Lesley.

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James.

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I felt betrayal spread through my chest like fire, but I didn’t let it reach my face.

Instead, I smiled.

Slow. Sharp. Mean.

Rebecca blinked, thrown off.

I tilted my head. “At least I know who the father of my child is.”

Rebecca’s smile faltered.

I kept going, voice calm and cutting.

“Unlike your daughter,” I added, “who had to rely on a rogue-turned-Alpha to cover her

former promiscuity.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened.

For the first time, she looked genuinely shocked.

But I didn’t stop.

“Or didn’t your daughter tell you?” I asked lightly. “James isn’t the father of the bastard

she’s carrying.”

Rebecca went still.

I smiled wider.

“He’s only covering for her for the sake of this Union deal,” I said, my tone almost amused.

“So really… the baby in her womb? Just another bargaining chip.”

Rebecca’s mouth opened slightly.

Nothing came out.

I leaned closer, voice dropping into something vicious.

“Whether you like it or not,” I said, “James is a step up from whoever your daughter was

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Rebecca’s face flushed, rage surging.

“And James?” I added, enjoying the way her expression twisted. “He’s just this rogue bitch’s

leftover.”

Rebecca’s hand flew up.

Fast.

A slap.

I caught her wrist mid-air.

Her eyes snapped to my grip like it offended her that I had strength.

“You,” she hissed.

I tightened my hold just enough to make my point.

“If you dare,” I said coldly, “I’ll slap you back.”

Rebecca stared at me, stunned.

I leaned in closer, voice low, dangerous.

“I have nothing to lose,” I whispered. “James is the one you have by the balls. Not me.”

Rebecca yanked her hand free like it burned.

Her chest rose and fell hard, eyes blazing with humiliation.

She spat a look of pure hatred at me, then stormed out, heels striking the floor like

gunshots.

The door slammed.

Silence rushed in behind her.

My knees threatened to give, but I didn’t let them.

Not yet.

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I turned away from the mirror and went into the toilet stall, locking it behind me.

My hands shook as I lowered myself onto the seat, breathing through the ache in my chest.

When I finished and reached for the handle to leave,

It didn’t move.

I frowned and tried again.

Nothing.

I stood, heart picking up speed, and pushed harder.

Still nothing.

The stall door was locked.

From the outside.

My breath caught.

Rebecca.

That’s what she’d done.

I pressed my palm to the door, forcing myself not to panic.

But the truth hit hard and fast:

I had been locked in.

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