Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 3

Arya

By late morning, marcel Rainhorn arrived with his people. Security poured out, men scanning our compound like they were counting exits.

Then Marcel Rainhorn stepped out.

Too composed. Too confident. Gloves on his hands like dirt was beneath him.

His gaze swept the place once, bored already.

Then it landed on me.

Dismissal. Clean and instant.

I stepped forward anyway. “Alpha Marcel Rainhorn. Welcome to, ”

He cut me off without even blinking.

“Where is James Nightwind?”

Not your Alpha. Not your mate. Just James, like I was a secretary.

My pulse jumped.

“Alpha James is inside preparing, ”

“I’ll speak to him directly.”

And he started walking like he owned the ground.

I moved with him. “Allow me to escort you, ”

“Unnecessary,” Marcel said, still walking.

He didn’t slow. Didn’t look at me. Didn’t care that I was keeping pace.

We reached the meeting room and I ushered him in.

I stayed in the room.

Marcel sat like a king who didn’t need permission. James came in a moment later, straight back, calm face, that controlled confidence he wore when he wanted something.

Marcel didn’t bother with greetings for me. He looked at me once, like I’d tracked mud onto his floor.

Tea came. Snacks. The maids withdrew.

I didn’t move.

Then Marcel spoke, flat and cruel.

“She shouldn’t be here either.”

He gestured at me like I was furniture.

My spine went rigid. My mouth went dry.

I turned to James. One look. One word. That was all he needed to do.

James gave me a small, polite smile.

“Please excuse us, Arya.”

For a second, I genuinely thought I’d misheard him.

“James?” My voice came out thin. Wrong. “Say that again.”

He didn’t meet my eyes.

His voice slid into my head through the link, low and urgent.

Not now, Arya. Please.

Please.

He begged me, while he pushed me out.

My throat tightened so hard it hurt. I stood because sitting would’ve looked like weakness. I walked out because if I didn’t, I’d tear the room apart with my hands.

The door shut behind me.

And the crack inside me wasn’t from Marcel.

It was from James letting him do it.

I stayed close enough to hear.

Marcel’s voice rolled through the door, smooth and satisfied. “I see you’ve built something good here.”

James answered, controlled. “Thank you.”

I pressed my palm to the wood, steadying myself.

“So,” Marcel said, “have you put everything in order?”

“Yes.” James didn’t hesitate. “The potential gold mines have been marked. The portion you requested has been preserved for your use.”

My stomach turned so violently I had to swallow hard.

Gold mines.

A portion preserved for him.

Our land. Our future. Sold off in neat sentences while I stood outside like a stranger.

“Very well,” Marcel said. “The protection will be granted as promised. I’m aware several packs are mobilising against you. My warriors will stand by your side.”

James’s voice stayed even, but I heard the edge under it. “We appreciate it.”

Marcel went on, slow and deliberate, like he enjoyed the sound of his own power.

“That is the purpose of the Union. To shield our own from random attack and genocide.”

I almost laughed. It wanted to rip out of me, ugly, bitter, loud.

Shield.

He was the blade.

Then Marcel’s tone shifted. Sharper. Colder.

“What about my daughter’s place?”

My breath stopped.

Silence stretched. One heartbeat. Two.

“In order for this alliance to go through,” Marcel continued, “I expect someone here to represent my interests.”

My fingers curled into my palm.

The sound cracked through the room.

Both men turned.

Marcel didn’t flinch.

James did.

James looked like he’d been shot.

My voice shook, but it didn’t break.

“Rogue bitch?” I repeated, staring straight at James. “And you said nothing?”

James’s mouth opened.

No words came.

I stepped further in, heat roaring under my skin.

“What exactly is his daughter coming here to do?” I demanded. “What did you agree to, James?”

Marcel stood as if we were discussing the weather. He brushed at his sleeve, calm, smug, disgusting.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, already turning away.

“Not so fast, Alpha.”

My words cut sharp enough to stop him mid-step.

He glanced back over his shoulder.

I walked closer, refusing to shrink.

“You came into my home, insulted me, and spoke about me like I’m not standing right here.” My chest heaved. “I may have once respected you. But now I see you clearly.”

Marcel’s half-smirk didn’t move.

“You’re a greedy old man hiding behind power,” I said, each word like a strike. “Throwing insults to feel big. You are not welcome here.”

He didn’t answer.

He just turned and walked out with his men, unbothered, unmoved, as if I was noise that didn’t matter.

Fine.

Let him go.

Let him take my fury with him.

The moment the door closed behind him, I turned back to James.

He should’ve followed them out.

He should’ve played the Alpha.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t dare.

He just stood there, caught, while the air between us bled.

And I looked at him like I didn’t recognise him anymore.