Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 36

36 Silver and Silence: The Cell Taught Me Fear

Arya’s POV

I stared at the floor in front of me as if it had answers hidden in the cracks.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Not because anything was funny.

Because it was unreal.

Powerful warrior.

Fierce.

Independent.

That was what people used to call me.

That was what I believed I was.

And now look at me.

Locked in a cell like a criminal.

Crying.

Begging.

Waiting for someone else to decide if I lived.

My lips trembled.

I shook my head slowly.

“What did I do?” I whispered harshly. “What did I do wrong?”

The answer came immediately, cruel and simple.

I loved the wrong man.

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I trusted.

I let myself believe that building a pack with someone meant he would never let me become disposable.

I let myself believe that being mates meant something stronger than politics.

And here I was.

Reduced to a name people spat.

Reduced to a threat they wanted removed.

My nails dug into my palm.

“You were stupid,” I muttered to myself, voice shaking with anger. “Stupid.”

My breath hitched again.

Tears rose again.

I wiped them away again, rougher.

“Enough,” I whispered. “Enough.”

But I couldn’t stop thinking of the hall.

Of them throwing things.

Of Rebecca’s voice, beat her to death.

Of James standing there and saying, I am disappointed in you.

My throat tightened again, pain and disbelief twisting together.

I forced myself to lift my gaze upward.

Not to the ceiling.

Beyond it.

To the moon I couldn’t see through stone.

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I swallowed hard and whispered, “Moon…”

”

My voice broke.

I tried again, steadier.

“Moon, please.”

My palms pressed together in front of me, not graceful, not ceremonial, just desperate.

“Spare me,” I whispered. “Spare my child. Please.”

Silence answered.

I closed my eyes tightly and kept talking anyway, because stopping felt like dying.

“Give me a chance,” I pleaded. “Give me a way out. Let me escape this.”

My voice trembled.

“I promise,” I whispered, swallowing hard. “I promise I’ll be wiser. I promise I’ll be led by my

head and not my heart.”

My throat burned.

“I promise,” I repeated. “Just… please.”

I stayed like that for a long moment, whispering prayers into stone, whispering promises

into silence.

Then the sound came.

Footsteps.

Closer.

Heavy.

Angry.

My head snapped up.

My pulse kicked.

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I scrambled to my feet, wiping my face quickly with my sleeve, trying to steady my

breathing.

The footsteps stopped outside.

Keys clinked.

The lock turned.

The door opened.

James stepped in.

And the moment I saw his face, my heart sank.

He wasn’t calm.

He wasn’t coming to soothe.

He wasn’t coming to whisper reassurance like he’d tried in my room.

He was livid.

His eyes were red-rimmed, not soft with emotion, hard with rage and exhaustion. His jaw was tight, and the vein in his neck stood out like he was barely holding himself back.

Two guards stood behind him, watching.

James didn’t look at them. He didn’t look around.

He looked straight at me like I was a problem that had finally cost him everything.

For a heartbeat, I forgot the silver.

I forgot the fear.

I moved on instinct.

“James,” I blurted, stepping forward.

He didn’t soften.

I ran to the bars and grabbed them.

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The silver burned instantly.

Pain shot through my palms like fire.

I hissed and tried to pull away, but my desperation held me there.

“James, I’m innocent,” I said, breathless. “I’m innocent, I swear.”

He didn’t flinch at my pain.

His voice came out low, controlled, and sharp.

“I know you have been wronged, Arya,” he said. “But trying to kill Leah was extreme.”

My mouth fell open.

“What?” I gasped.

James stepped closer to the bars, eyes blazing.

“Do

you think the lives of the pack members mean nothing?” he demanded. “Do you think

jeopardising the Union means nothing? Do you think throwing us back into the wolves’ jaws

means nothing?”

My eyes filled again immediately.

I shook my head hard, tears spilling.

“No,” I choked. “No, James, I didn’t, I didn’t!”

My hands burned on the bars.

I forced myself to release them, wincing, then lifted my palms to show him the red marks,

as if pain could prove truth.

“I didn’t,” I repeated desperately. “I didn’t! You have to believe me.”

James’s eyes flickered, just once, to my hands.

Then back to my face.

His expression didn’t change.

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He lifted a hand sharply, silencing me like he was cutting off a nuisance.

“Enough,” he snapped.

I flinched.

He leaned closer, voice rough.

“I had the witnesses beaten,” he said. “And they still said it was you, Arya.”

My breath hitched.

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