Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 133

133 A Debt Carried into the Hall

Arya’s POVO

I felt the room look at me again.

Not with pity.

Not with easy dismissal.

With recalculation.

Marcel’s jaw flexed hard enough I thought I heard his teeth grind.

I let him look.

Let him stew.

Then I spoke.

I stepped slightly forward and faced him directly.

“You don’t need to bother me again over James,” I said, voice steady. “I’ve left him for Leah.”

The words tasted like ash and iron.

A few people visibly leaned in.

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed.

Marcel stared at me, searching for weakness, perhaps, or grief he could use.

I gave him neither.

My chin lifted. “So your daughter should focus on what she won.”

I stopped there.

There was no need to say the rest out loud..

No need to tell him that blood debts didn’t vanish because he wrapped them in politics.

No need to announce revenge in a room full of men who turned women’s pain into entertainment.

Threatening him publicly would be stupid.

But I saw it anyway.

<133 A Debt Carried into the Hall

The discomfort.

A flicker in his eyes. Quick. Gone. Real.

He believed himself untouchable because of titles and alliances and signatures.

He had just been reminded I now stood under Maxwell’s name.

And names mattered in this world.

Menu

Marcel recovered fast, smoothing his expression into offended authority. “This is not the place for old

grievances,” he said. “We are here for Union business.”

Maxwell’s mouth curled faintly, cruelly. “Then perhaps start acting like a Union host.”

Marcel shot him a glare and turned sharply toward the centre of the hall. “Take your seats.”

The meeting began, but the room never fully settled.

Not after that.

Servants moved more quietly. Guards held themselves stiffer. Alphas spoke in measured tones while

watching one another too closely. Marcel chaired the discussion with the controlled irritation of a man

trying to regain a room he had briefly lost.

The topic officially, was rogue activity.

Some of it

Reports came in from border packs, raided livestock, broken patrol lines, disappearances on trade

paths, skirmishes in forest corridors. Some of it sounded true. Some of it sounded inflat

sounded suspiciously useful.

I listened and watched.

Marcel kept his voice smooth. Rebecca hovered where she could be seen serving and listening. Every

now and then I caught her glaring at me from across the room.

I ignored her.

What I didn’t ignore was how Marcel steered blame.

He talked about disorder. About weak borders. About unregulated territories creating openings. About the danger of unrecognised packs operating outside proper Union. structure.

Unrecognised packs.

He never said Nightwind at first.

<133 A Debt Carried into the Hall

He didn’t need to.

The insinuation was the point.

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Maxwell cut across him twice, once to ask for evidence, once to point out that rogue movements had increased even in fully recognised zones. Marcel smiled both times like a man swallowing insult in

public and saving it for later.

Then one of the Alphas, broad-shouldered, scar across his cheek, voice rough with age, said, “If the concern is practical response, we should invite James Nightwind to consult. Whatever else is true, he knows rogue patterns. He’s fought them off successfully.”

The room shifted again.

Marcel’s mouth flattened.

I kept my expression still, but my chest tightened unexpectedly.

James.

Even hearing his name in a room like this felt like someone pressing a bruise that had never healed

right.

Another Alpha nodded. “I’ve heard the same. His defences held when they should have collapsed.”

Maxwell leaned back in his chair, arms folded, and spoke before Marcel could redirect.

“It may be difficult to convince James,” he said evenly, “when his pack has been attacked by Union

members.”

Silence.

Cold and immediate.

Marcel turned to him. “That is an accusation.”

Maxwell didn’t blink. “It is a fact being discussed in enough places that you should prepare to answer

it.”

A couple of men looked down. Another looked straight at Marcel and said nothing at all, which was louder than agreement.

I knew exactly what Maxwell was doing.

Helping James without excusing him.

Forcing the room to acknowledge what had been whispered and buried.

< 133 A Debt Carried into the Hall

Reminding them Nightwind’s vulnerability had not gone unnoticed.

A strange, unwilling ache moved through me.

Gel 28,

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I wished, briefly, stupidly, that James had listened tell from the beginning. That he had been

one dressed as power.

patient. That he had chosen a harder path instead of a That he had

trusted the right people before Marcel wrapped himself around our future like rot.

But wishing changed nothing.

What was between James and me now was not heartbreak alone.

It was blood.

My baby.

My humiliation.

His silence.

His choices.

The debt sat between us like a grave with my name carved on one side and his on the other.

The meeting dragged on through strategy proposals and patrol rotations and performative concern. Marcel regained enough footing to sound authoritative again, but I saw it now in everything he did.

The over-control.

The quick irritation when challenged.

The way his eyes kept returning to Maxwell, and, occasionally, to me, as if recalculating risk.

Good.

Let him.

By the time the formal discussion thinned and side conversations began, my shoulders ached from holding tension and my jaw hurt from clenching against a hundred things I wanted to say.

Maxwell stood

“We’re leaving.”

No argument from me.

As we stepped away from the table, Marcel intercepted us near the hall exit, smiling too smoothly.

“Maxwell,” he said. “A word.”

<133 A Debt Carried into the Hall

Maxwell didn’t stop walking. “Another time.”

Marcel’s gaze slid to me. “You should be careful what stories you entertain.

I looked at him full in the face.

“And you should be careful who survive

His smile faltered.

Maxwell’s hand touched my elbow lightly, not restraint, just signal.

Enough.

We kept walking.

Behind us, I could feel Marcel watching.

Let him watch.

I

Let him wonder what I kno

Get 28 2

who I had now, how far Maxwell would go, and whether the orphan he

tried to erase had grown teeth in the meantime.

By the time we reached the courtyard, the air felt different on my skin.

Not cleaner.

Just colder.

More honest.

I got into the car and looked back once at Silverfang’s walls, at the guards, at the grand entrance where Rebecca had tried to deny me and Marcel had tried to throw me out and failed in front of men.

whose opinions he needed.

My pulse steadied.

I had walked in and looked him in the face.

I had stood there while Maxwell named what he did.

I had watched disco flicker through Marcel Rainhorn’s eyes.

It wasn’t

enough,

Not even close.

But it was something.

133 A Debt Carried into the Hall

Menu

As the car pulled away from Silverfang, I rested my hand over my abdomen without thinking, the old instinct still there, the old wound still deeper

han breath.

I did not speak.

Neither did Maxwell.

There was no need.

I stared ahead and let the vow settle properly in me, cold and clear and alive.

What was between James and me now was a blood debt.

And they would pay me.

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