Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 17

17 A Promise I No Longer Believe: The Cracks Widen

Arya’s POV

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The rage in my chest was sharp enough to slice. I could feel it vibrating through my bones.

“I don’t want to stay anymore,” I said, forcing the sentence out through clenched teeth. “I’m

not safe here with the Rainhorns around.”

James’s mouth tightened. “You are safe.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “I was locked in a rest room with silver on the door, James.”

His eyes flickered.

That was the closest he came to flinching.

I took a shaky breath. “Give me some land.”

James’s head snapped up. “No.”

“Yes,” I insisted, voice raw. “Give me a portion of territory. A place I can build a home. And let me go.”

His face hardened. “You’re not leaving.”

“I don’t want to be part of whatever you’re planning with the Rainhorns,” I said, the words spilling faster now, urgency and fury twisting together. “I don’t want to be dragged along behind your ambition like a sacrifice. It was Rebecca Rainhorn, James. Rebecca. She locked me in that rest room.”

James’s voice dropped, rough. “Be calm.”

I laughed again, a sound so broken it barely resembled humour. “You keep saying that like it means something.”

He leaned closer, his hand reaching for mine again. “I promised you I’ll protect you.”

I jerked my hand back.

“I don’t believe you,” I said simply.

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The words seemed to hit him harder than my shouting had.

His gaze locked on mine. “Arya,”

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“You’re not the one calling the shots,” I whispered, voice shaking now with something

colder than anger. “Marcel owns you. Marcel Rainhorn is the one controlling this pack.

You’re just… following along, and telling yourself it’s necessary.”

“That’s not true,” he snapped.

“It is,” I said, and tears slid down my cheeks again, but my voice stayed steady. “You asked me to excuse myself like I was nothing. You begged me not to ’cause trouble’ because

Union approval mattered more than my dignity.”

James’s jaw flexed. His hands clenched on his knees.

“Just trust me,” he said, voice strained. “Hang on. I know what I’m doing.”

But the truth was, I didn’t trust him anymore.

Not after the silver.

Not after the humiliation.

Not after the way he’d looked at me when he called my baby a clump of cells.

My chest tightened again, grief rising beneath the anger like floodwater.

He had failed me.

He had exposed me to danger.

And somewhere deep inside, a quiet certainty had already formed: arguing with him was

pointless.

If I wanted to live… if I wanted my baby to live… I would have to find my own way.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe.

And then the door flew open.

Leah walked in first, chin lifted, eyes glittering like she’d come to feed on my pain.

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<17 A Promise I No Longer Believe: The Cracks Widen

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Rebecca followed behind her, sharp and outraged, as if she had the right to storm into my

room at any hour.

Rebecca’s gaze snapped to James beside my bed, then to me.

Her lip curled. “This is unheard of.”

James’s posture stiffened instantly, anger flashing through him. “Get out.”

Rebecca ignored him, voice rising. “After marrying my daughter, you sit here with another

woman?”

Another woman.

Not his mate.

Not the woman who built his pack.

Just another woman.

My stomach turned.

James stood so fast his chair scraped the floor. “It’s time you return to your pack,” he bit

out. “You’ve done enough damage here.”

Rebecca’s brows rose, cold amusement flickering. “You can’t tell me what to do, James

Nightwind.”

She gestured toward Leah. “I’m here to take care of my daughter. And your unborn child.”

Something in James snapped.

His voice came out like a blade. “I’m not the father of the bastard she’s carrying.”

Silence slammed into the room.

Leah went rigid.

Rebecca froze, her shock so complete it looked almost comical.

James stepped forward, eyes blazing. “We only struck a deal to save her the shame of

being labelled a rogue’s whore,” he spat. “That’s all it was. A contract.”

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Rebecca’s mouth trembled.

James didn’t stop. “I have never touched Leah.”

Rebecca stared at him, stunned.

And in that moment, everything clicked into place for me.

He had been telling me the truth.

But truth didn’t soften the heartbreak.

It didn’t erase the humiliation.

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It didn’t undo the way I’d watched him stand beside Leah while the pack looked at me like I

was already erased.

Rebecca’s shock lasted only a moment.

Then she blinked, slow and deliberate.

And she smiled.

It was the kind of smile that said she had recalculated and found a new way to win.

“Since you’ve taken responsibility,” Rebecca said smoothly, “I don’t care who got my daughter pregnant.”

Leah’s eyes flashed with humiliation, but Rebecca didn’t even look at her.

Rebecca’s gaze locked on James. “My daughter is a step up for you.”

My throat tightened.

Rebecca’s voice turned sharper, crueler. “And you should feel honoured, being chosen to be the father of her child.”

James’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.

Rebecca’s eyes flicked to me, then back to him, her contempt dripping. “Judging by your status, no girl from a prestigious family would want to mate with an Alpha who is hung up on his whore.”

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The word hit like filth thrown in my face.

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“A simple rogue bitch with no pedigree,” Rebecca added lightly, like she was stating a fact.

My hands trembled under the blanket.

Not from weakness.

From pure, controlled fury.

Rebecca stepped closer to James, voice lowering into threat. “So behave.”

Her smile sharpened. “Or kiss your seat at the Union goodbye.”

James went still.

Rebecca’s gaze gleamed. “Even Maxwell won’t be able to help you when my husband is. through with you.”

She tilted her head. “Be wise, Alpha Nightwind.”

Then she turned and swept out, Leah following like a shadow, her face twisted between rage and wounded pride.

The door shut behind them.

The room fell quiet again.

James stood there for a moment, chest rising and falling, rage still rolling off him like heat.

Then he sat back down beside me.

Slowly.

He reached for my hand, fingers closing around it.

Warm.

Steady.

A gesture meant to comfort.

But it felt pointless.

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Because even as he held my hand, I could feel it, how deep he was in this. How many lines he’d already crossed, how many bargains he’d already made.

James could hold my hand all he wanted.

It wouldn’t pull him out of Marcel Rainhorn’s control.

And it wouldn’t erase the truth forming hard and clear inside me:

He was already too deep.

And if I stayed…

He would drown me with him.

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