Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 278

278 Same Cell, Same Bars

James’ POVO

I followed them to the cells, and every step down there felt familiar in the worst way. The same stone passage. The same cold in the air. The same smell of metal, damp walls and old punishment. I hated that I knew the path so well. I hated that my body remembered where to turn before my mind even caught up. I hated that this place had Arya all over it in my head. Her pain. Her blood. Her eyes. The sound of her breathing when she was trying not to break in front of me. There were some mistakes a man could bury under work or noise or anger. This was not one of them. This place did not let me forget anything. It dragged memory up by the throat and shoved it into my face. Maybe that was why V kept walking. Maybe some dark part of me wanted that. Wanted the punishment of remembering every second while Leah finally understood what she helped create.

Raymond shoved her forward when she slowed down. Devin unlocked the holding row. Archie stayed by the wall with that hard look on his face, the one that told me he was still angry enough to do worse if I let him. Nixon walked with me, quiet, and I could feel the satisfaction rolling off him without him needing to speak. Leah kept twisting in the chains, crying now and then cursing the next second, trying to hold on to whatever power she thought her father’s name still gave her. But the deeper we went, the less that name did for her. Down there everyone sounded the same Noble daughters. liars. wives. traitors. They all sounded the s Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading!

Raymond stopped in front of a cell and yanked her hard enough that she stumbled. She caught herself on the bars and then froze. I saw the exact second she realised where she was. Her eyes moved over the walls. The floor. The iron. The narrow cot. The bucket in the corner. The same cell. The exact same cell. The one Arya was locked in. The one I had let them throw her into while I stood there pretending I

was doing what had to be done.

Leah turned to me slowly.

Her face had gone pale.

“No,” Leah said. “No.”

Raymond shoved her inside.

She spun around and grabbed the bars before he could close them, panic finally real in her eyes now.

Not outrage. Not performance. Panic.

“What are you doing?” Leah screamed.

I looked at her through the bars and felt no softness rise in me. Maybe that made me a monster. Maybe I had already crossed that line long ago. Maybe there was nothing left in me that still deserved

to call itself gentle. I did not know anymore. I only knew that standing there, seeing her in that cell,

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something in me felt grimly righted. Not healed. Never healed. But righted in a dark ugly way

“You will receive the same punishment Arya received,” I told her.

Leah stared at me.

I kept going.

“You framed my Luna,” I said. “You caused unrest in my pack. You lied. You helped poison everything,

You will pay for it.”

Her fingers tightened around the bars.

“You have no right to do this,” Leah snapped.

That almost made me laugh.

Almost.

No right.

The words sounded filthy coming from her mouth. Right. As if any of us had spoken of rights when Arya was dragged here. As if anyone cared what Arya had a right to when she was chained, beaten and humiliated in this same place. As if Leah did not stand on the comfort of all that while acting

innocent in silk.

I laughed then, and it came out rough.

“I have every right,” I said. “You are a member of Nightwind now.

She shook her head violently.

“No.”

“Yes,” I said. “You are married to me.”

I watched her face change.

The understanding came slowly, then all at once.

Even though we hadn’t consummated it yet.

I did not even need to say those exact words. She heard them anyway. Heard the danger in them.

Heard what that marriage meant now that the bars were shut and her father was not standing beside

her and the whole pack had seen her dragged like a criminal.

Her eyes widened.

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And there it was.

Fear.

Real fear.

The sort that strips the pride off a woman fast.

“My father will be merciless,” Leah whispered.

Then louder, “My father will destroy you for this.”

She was shaking now.

I looked at her and realised something ugly. Once, those words would have done exactly what she wanted. They would have made my mind race. They would have made me think of retaliation, of pack safety, of Union consequences, of the price of anger. They would have worked because I had spent years afraid. Afraid for Nightwind. Afraid of attacks. Afraid of losing more land. Afraid of being too small to protect what was mine. Afraid of enemies circling us and knowing one wrong move could bury my people. That fear had ruled me. Ruled my choices. Ruled my stupid desperate bargains. That was how Marcel got in. That was how Leah got in. Fear opened the door and I helped them carry everything else inside.

Now though?

Now her threats sounded smaller.

Not harmless.

Just smaller.

“Radimir will blacklist you,” Leah said, voice cracking. “Do you hear me? Radimir will blacklist you.”

I laughed again.

This time I let it show properly.

That made her stop for a second.

Because she heard it. She heard that I was no longer taking those names the same way. No more t

rembling weight. No more automatic obedience. No more swallowing poison just because it came wrapped in Union talk and old power.

“Your father can’t do anything to me,” I said.

Leah stared.

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“And Radimír has no real power anymore,” I said.

That shook her harder than I expected. Maybe because it was the first time she had heard someone say it that plainly. Maybe because she knew it was true already and had been avoiding it. Maybe because she heard the certainty in my voice and realised the whole ground under her feet had shifted

while she was still clinging to old names.

“No,” Leah said weakly.

“Yes,” I said.

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