Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 205

205 The Offer on the Table 2

James’s POV

A maid came in carrying a silver tray with tea and light refreshment, bread twists, cut

fruit, a small dish of honeyed nuts arranged with far more care than anything in this

house deserved at that moment. She moved toward the side table like all of it was

normal. I looked at the tray first, then at her.

“I didn’t request that.”

She froze just enough for guilt to pass over her face.

“It’s courtesy of Luna Leah, Alpha.”

That title hit me like a slap. Not because it was new. Because I had said often enough

now that the woman was not to be called that in my house, and still the word kept

surviving in soft mouths and nervous habit like if they said it enough times it would

become true. Embarrassment hit first. Then anger. And the fact that Maxwell was sitting

right there to hear it made both worse. I looked at the maid and kept my voice level only

because shouting would have made the moment smaller, not cleaner.

“I told this house to stop calling Leah Luna.”

The maid swallowed.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Take it back.”

She blinked.

I did not soften it.

“Take it back,” I repeated. “And send Archie to serve us something instead.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

She moved so fast leaving the room that the spoon on the tray rattled against the cup.

The door shut behind her and for one brief second there was silence.

Then Maxwell said, dry enough to cut skin, “You’re wise now.”

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GM 18

EMenu

I almost laughed, except there was too much truth in it. The old me, the one from not so

Long ago, though it felt like another life, might have let the tray stay out of pride,

laziness, or the need not to make a scene over titles and symbols while pretending

symbols were not the whole point of this rotten arrangement. Now I saw what every

gesture meant. Who sent it. Why she sent it. What letting it stay there untouched would

say in front of Maxwell. I looked at him and gave a short humourless nod.

“I’m learning.”

“That woman cannot be trusted,” he said.

He did not say Leah’s name. He did not need to.

“Anyone wicked enough to kill her own baby and blame it on someone else cannot be

trusted.”

The words made the air go cold again. No matter how many times I replayed that truth

in my head, it still felt unreal at the edges, like some part of me remained too horrified to let it settle properly into ordinary memory. Leah had done that. Leah had looked me in

the face after that. Leah had cried and leaned and lied and walked through my halls

under sympathy that belonged to Arya’s dead child. I looked away from Maxwell for a

second because I could not hold his eyes and the weight of what that said about my

judgment at the same time.

“She won’t stay gone quietly,” I said.

“No,” Maxwell replied. “She won’t.”

Nixon spoke then for the first time in several minutes, his voice low and practical as ever.

“Archie’s loyal. He’ll handle the household side better until things are formalised.”

Formalised. Divorce. Removal. Leah no longer haunting this place like a curse in silk. I

nodded once because that was one of the few things in front of me that had become absolutely simple in the last twenty-four hours. Maxwell shifted back to the larger problem without warning, like he had no intention of letting me drown in one mess

when five others were still waiting.

“I’m investigating those packs,” he said. “Redclaw, Irongate, Cliffsand. They crossed me.

That alone is enough reason.”

There was iron in that sentence. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just absolute. I believed him.

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205 The Offer on the Table 2

“If I find anything worth acting on, I’ll let you know.”

I nodded again, slower this time.

“Thank you.”

He did not dismiss the gratitude, but he did not indulge it either.

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“Spend more effort fortifying your security,” he said. “And ensuring your pack members

are loyal.”

That one I took without argument because I had no right left to resent hearing what

should have been obvious to me much earlier.

“If Lisa and Margaret could betray their Luna for membership in a Union-certified pack,”

he continued, “you should guess how many more in your pack would do the same given

the right offer.”

That hit because it was ugly, and because it was true. I had already been thinking some

version of it since learning how far Lisa and Margaret had gone. Nightwind was younger

than the old packs. Hungrier. Less stable in loyalty because fear had been part of its

foundation from the beginning. Some wolves followed me because they believed in

what I built. Some because the land was rich. Some because surviving under me seemed

better than wandering. And some would always lean whichever way safety and rank

leaned hardest. That truth made my mouth taste bitter.

“I know,” I said.

Maxwell’s face gave nothing away. He was not enjoying the lesson. He was making sure

I did not miss it. I walked to the sideboard and poured myself water while we kept

talking because suddenly I needed something simple to do with my hands. We discussed patrol changes first, where Boris’s influence might be pressing through the

smaller packs, how quickly my existing routes could be varied without making Nightwind

look panicked, which border points were weakest if another strike came under rogue

cover.

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