Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 25

25 The Price of Protection: Marcel Calls the Debt

James’s POV

My grip tightened on the receiver.

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I didn’t speak.

Marcel didn’t need permission.

“Two Union leaders will be coming,” he said. “They’ll inspect your pack. Your borders. Your

operations. They will see if you’re fit to join.”

My pulse kicked.

“When?” I asked.

“Soon,” Marcel replied. “Very soon. So you will prepare.”

“Yes,” I said tightly. “We’ll prepare.”

Marcel hummed.

“And Leah tells me,” he said, voice warm with satisfaction, “that you have made her the

official Luna.”

My stomach twisted.

I forced my voice steady.

“It’s being handled.”

Marcel laughed softly.

“Being handled,” he repeated. “That’s what men say when they’re pretending they still have

control.”

Nixon’s jaw tightened.

Marcel’s voice lowered.

“I’m proud of you, James,” he said. “You kept your promise. That full moon dinner proved

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< 25 The Price of Protection: Marcel Calls the Debt

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it.”

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I didn’t respond.

Because if I did, the words would come out wrong.

Marcel pressed on, as if he could hear my silence and enjoyed it.

“The gold,” he said casually, “is still there. The land is still valuable. Your future is still bright, so long as you behave.”

My teeth ground.

“We know what’s at stake.”

“Good,” Marcel said. “Then you’ll need the papers drafted.”

My spine went rigid.

“What papers?” I asked, though I already knew.

Marcel sounded amused.

“The transfer and joining paperwork,” he said. “The formal acknowledgements. Leah’s

status. Your Union oath. All of it.”

I stared at the wall behind my desk, jaw aching.

“We’ll draft them,” I said.

Marcel sighed like I was a child.

“No,” he corrected smoothly. “You will have them drafted. And you will present them at the signing.”

My voice came out harsher.

“The signing happens after I’m made a Union member.”

Marcel chuckled.

“Exactly,” he said. “And that is why you will not fail.”

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<25 The Price of Protection: Marcel Calls the Debt

I squeezed the receiver.

“I won’t.”

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“Of course you won’t,” Marcel said. “Because you’re not foolish enough to lose what I’m

giving you.”

Nixon’s eyes narrowed as if he could hear Marcel’s smugness through the line.

Marcel’s tone shifted, still calm, but with an edge.

“You will host a banquet,” he said. “A proper one. I want them impressed.”

“We’ll do it,” I replied.

“And,” Marcel added, voice turning deliberately sharp, “I want that woman banished.”

My blood went cold.

I spoke immediately.

“No.”

Silence.

Even the air felt like it tightened.

Then Marcel laughed, quiet, delighted.

“You’re defiant,” he said. “How charming.”

I forced my voice steady.

“She has nowhere to go. This is her only home,” I said. “And she won’t be banished.”

Marcel hummed again.

“Then she will attend the signing,” he said, like it was the simplest solution in the world. “So

she can learn her place.”

My hand clenched so hard around the receiver my fingers hurt.

“Marcel,

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< 25 The Price of Protection: Marcel Calls the Debt

He cut me off smoothly.

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“Yes, yes,” Marcel said, bored. “She fought beside you. She bled beside you. I’m aware. It

makes a lovely story.”

My throat tightened.

“But understand this,” Marcel continued, voice turning colder. “She did not secure your

future or that of the people of your pack.”

Nixon’s face hardened.

“I did,” Marcel said. “I secured your safety. I secured your Union protection. So she can sit

and watch while we make history.”

My voice came out low and dangerous.

“You’re enjoying this.”

Marcel laughed again.

“Enjoying?” he repeated. “James, you’re mistaking reality for cruelty.”

“It is cruelty,” I snapped.

Marcel’s tone sharpened.

“It is power,” he corrected. “And you wanted it. Remember?”

I didn’t answer.

Marcel let the silence stretch, then sighed.

“Prepare the banquet,” he said. “Prepare the signing. Keep Leah where she belongs. And keep your… sentimental attachments under control.”

My jaw clenched.

“Understood.”

Marcel sounded pleased again.

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“Good boy,” he said lightly. “We’ll speak soon.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the receiver for half a second, then slammed it back into place.

The room felt smaller.

Hotter.

Nixon didn’t speak right away.

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He watched me like he was waiting for the last of my dignity to fall off my shoulders.

I exhaled hard, rubbing a hand down my face.

“It’s happening,” I said, voice rough. “The inspection. The signing.”

Nixon’s eyes stayed hard.

“And Arya?” he asked.

My jaw tightened.

“She’s not being banished.”

Nixon stepped closer, voice low.

“He just told you what he wants,” he said. “And you keep thinking you can bargain.”

I snapped my gaze to him.

“I’m not bargaining,” I said. “I’m stalling.”

Nixon’s lips curled.

“Stalling,” he repeated. “While your mate breaks.”

I slammed my hand on the desk again.

“I know!” I shouted.

Nixon didn’t flinch.

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He leaned in slightly, voice like a warning.

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“You better be right,” he said. “Because if you’re wrong, you won’t just lose her.’

My chest heaved.

“You think I don’t know that?”

Nixon’s eyes narrowed.

“I think you know,” he said. “And you’re still doing it.”

I swallowed.

My voice dropped.

“It’s only a matter of time,” I said, more to myself than to him. “Once we’re Union members, Marcel can’t touch us the same way.”

Nixon stared at me like I’d just insulted him.

“You’re gambling with her life,” he said quietly.

I clenched my jaw.

“I’m buying us protection.”

Nixon took a step back, disgust flickering on his face.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

Then he turned and walked out.

The door shut behind him, leaving me alone in the office with Marcel’s words still ringing in my ears and Arya’s scream still burning in my chest.

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