Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 128

128 Work That Let Me Breathe

Arya’s POV

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By the time I left the health centre, the sun had tilted westward and the

light had softened into that gold edge that made stone walls look warmer than they were.

Women’s centre last.

I paused with one hand on the cart handle before we headed there.

For no good reason, my stomach tightened.

Maybe because women’s centres always held more than supplies. They held stories, rivalries, quiet wounds, old loyalties. They held kindness and poison in the same room and expected you to sort them

by instinct.

Maybe because I was tired.

Maybe because I could still hear the little girl calling me princess and feel how far from that I was.

The Dragonclaw women’s centre sat near a courtyard with herb beds and benches. It was larger than Nightwind’s had been, with a weaving room on one side, a shared kitchen on the other, and a long main hall where women could gather for work, support, and disputes that did not need to reach Alpha

ears unless they turned dangerous.

As soon as I entered with the last set of supplies, conversations dipped.

Not silent.

Just changed.

Curious eyes found me.

Some warm.

Some cautious

Some openly measuring.

I introduced myself and the centre head, a broad shouldered older woman named Rena, welcomed me with practical gratitude and no fuss.

“We heard Alpha sent someone to cover rounds,” she said. “Didn’t know he’d send a beauty with proper hands.”

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A few women chuckled.

I smiled politely and helped begin distribution.

For a while, it went well.

A widow thanked me for the stitching kit with tears in her eyes because hers had broken.

A young mother asked if the children’s fever mix could be diluted for an infant.

Two girls no older than sixteen hovered shyly over the soap packs and whispered to each other until I asked if they wanted help.

I felt the room easing around me, not fully, but enough.

Then Gail opened her mouth.

I knew she was the beta’s daughter before anyone named her.

Some people carried entitlement the way others carried knives, visible if you knew where to look. She was draped in it. Beautiful in a polished way, dressed slightly finer than necessary for a day centre, posture too relaxed, smile too sharp.

She had been watching from near the weaving benches with three women gathered close to her like satellites.

When she finally stepped forward, she did it with the confidence of someone used to making a room. turn.

“So this is her,” she said, loud enough for half the hall to hear.

Rena’s mouth tightened. “Gail.”

Gail ignored her. Her eyes moved over me with theatrical slowness. “The stray Alpha Maxwell picked up to calm his loneliness.”

The words landed. I felt them. I refused to flinch.

Around us, the room shifted uneasily.

I kept stacking supplies and said, evenly, “If you need something from distribution, ask properly.”

A few heads turned at that.

Gail laughed. “Oh, she has teeth.”

I met her gaze at last. “Only when needed.”

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She took another step, chin lifted. “You should enjoy the kindness while it lasts. Alpha may be soft on strays, but his son won’t be.” Her smile widened, poisonous and bright. “And Dave will be future Alpha whether you like it or not. When he takes over, I’ll enjoy watching him cast you out.”

A small silence spread.

There it was.

Not just insult.

Audience work.

She wanted witnesses.

She wanted me rattled.

She wanted the women watching to choose sides without having to be asked directly.

I could feel anger rising hot and immediate under my skin..

Not because Gail mattered.

Because she didn’t.

Because women like her always appeared when a wound was visible and called cruelty honesty.

I set down the bundle in my hand carefully.

“Gail, is it?” I asked.

She smiled as if she had already won. “You know my name.

“I know your type.”

. The smile faltered by a fraction.

“1

I continued before she could recover, voice calm and low but carrying. “If your contribution to this centre is gossip, then step aside and let women who actually work collect supplies.”

A few women looked down, hiding smiles.

Gail’s face cooled. “Careful. You forget where you are.

“No,” I said. “I remember exactly where I am. In a women’s centre. Not a mating market.”

That one hit harder.

One of the women beside her coughed to hide a laugh.

< 128 Work That Let Me Breathe

Colour rose under Gail’s makeup.

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She stepped closer, dropping the performance sweetness. “You think because the Alpha lets you walk around with baskets you belong here? You’re still what you are.

I held her gaze. “And what am I?”

Her lip curled. “A stray.”

The word should not have cut.

It did anyway.

Not because of her.

Because too many people had used different versions of it with cleaner clothes and better manners.

I opened my mouth to answer,

and the room changed before I said a word.

I felt him before I saw him.

A shift in attention.

A hush at the doorway.

That peculiar tightening in the air when a dangerous man enters a room and does not need to

announce himself.

Lev.

I didn’t turn immediately.

I hated that I knew his presence that quickly.

Gail, however, lit up like a girl spotting a crown.

Her whole face changed. Smile soft. Shoulders angled, Voice sweetened.

“Lev.”

Of course she knew him.

Of course she thought he had come for her.

She moved toward him before I could even look properly, suddenly all polished warmth and fluttering confidence. “I didn’t know you were coming by. We were just talking.”

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I finally turned.

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Lev stood in the doorway in dark clothes, sleeves rolled, expression unreadable in that infuriating way of his. He looked from Gail to me, took in the room in one sweep, and then did exactly what he always. did, nothing dramatic, nothing rushed, and somehow all control.

He did not answer Gail.

Not a word.

Not a glance long enough to reward her.

He simply waited.

For me.

His eyes found mine and held.

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