Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 58

58 Options

James’s POV

The room smelled of leather, steel, and the sharp bite of oil from my weapons.

I was halfway through fastening the last strap on my travel harness when the door slammed open hard enough to rattle the latch.

Leah barged in without knocking.

Without permission.

Without restraint.

She looked like a storm that had been beaten back by a wall and returned angrier for it.

Blood had dried in ugly streaks beneath her nostrils and across her upper lip. Her eyes

were swollen. Her cheeks were blotched with red. And her nose,

Her nose was broken.

Not a little fracture.

Broken-broken.

It sat crooked on her face like someone had taken pleasure in making sure it didn’t sit

right.

For a heartbeat I just stared, muscles going still, hand frozen on the strap.

Then I breathed out slowly.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Leah marched into the room like her pain was an announcement and my attention was

owed to her by law,

She pointed at her face with shaking fingers, eyes blazing.

“Look,” she snapped, voice thick, “Look at what that crazy, murderous bitch did to me.”

My jaw tightened,

Not because of her injuries.

12:31

27.23%

Because of her words.

Because she said it like she was the victim of some unprovoked attack, like she had

wandered peacefully and been assaulted by an animal loose in the house.

I set the strap aside and turned fully to her.

“What were you doing in Arya’s room?” I asked, voice low.

Leah froze like she didn’t understand the question.

I took a step closer, expression hard.

“I’m asking you what you went to do in her room,” I repeated. “Because you didn’t end

up with a broken nose by breathing the same air as her. You went in there for a reason.”

Leah’s mouth parted.

Her eyes widened with outrage.

“You,” she stammered, then caught herself, then tried again, louder, “You’re blaming

me?”

I didn’t blink.

“Yes,” I said flatly. “I am.”

Leah stared at me like she couldn’t believe I wasn’t rushing to wrap my arms around her

and declare vengeance.

“I wanted to see her,” Leah hissed, voice shaking with fury. “I wanted to see the face of

the woman that killed my baby,”

The words landed wrong in the room.

Too loud.

Too sharp.

Too easy.

My hand curled into a fist at my side.

My chest tightened.

12:31

27.23%

My ribs felt like they remembered the yard.

Because the child Arya carried had been mine too.

Mine.

And Leah said “my baby” like she owned grief exclusively, like she was the only one

who had lost anything.

I felt anger flare, quick and hot, but I held it down. Not because I was calm. Because if I

let it loose, it would rip the room apart.

“And I wanted to ask her,” Leah continued, stepping closer, eyes shining with cruel

satisfaction, “now that she knew how it felt to lose a child.”

My eyes narrowed.

That was the line.

That was the poison..

The kind of sentence you only said if you wanted someone to bleed inside.

I stared at Leah for a long beat, then spoke slowly.

“For someone that lost her child,” I said, voice cold, “you seem to be awfully in high

spirits.”

Leah blinked.

Her expression twitched.

Then she did something that made my skin crawl.

She walked behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me from

behind like we were lovers in some soft domestic scene.

Her broken nose pressed against my back.

Her hands clasped over my stomach.

And she spoke into my shoulder as if she belonged there.

“The only comfort I have,” she murmured, voice sweet, “is knowing we will soon start

trying for our own baby.”

12:31

26.88%

My body went rigid.

Disgust surged up so fast it made me clench my teeth.

I pulled away immediately, hard, abrupt, turning to face her with my eyes burning.

Leah stumbled a step, surprised.

“What is wrong with you?” she snapped, offended, wounded.

I didn’t answer that.

Because the list was long.

Because the words I wanted to say would start a war in this room.

Instead, I kept my voice clipped.

“You don’t get to touch me like that,” I said.

Leah’s eyes flashed.

“I’m your Luna,” she shot back automatically, as if the title was a weapon that could cut

boundaries down.

My jaw flexed.

I stared at her face, swollen, bloody, broken, and I felt no satisfaction, no pity, no panic.

Only a grim sense that she had walked into a fire and expected the flame to apologise.

Leah lifted her chin, wincing as pain pulled across her bruises.

“I don’t feel safe with Arya around,” she said quickly, shifting tactics. “She is dangerous.

She attacked me. She promised to make me pay for

my child.”

My eyes narrowed.

“I’m sure she did,” I said,

Leah’s lips peeled back.

“So you agree she’s a threat,” she pressed. “Then do something about it.”

I stared at her until she shifted uncomfortably.

12:32

26.94%

“Arya isn’t going anywhere,” I said.

Leah’s eyes widened.

“What?” she hissed.

I didn’t soften.

“She isn’t going anywhere,” I repeated. “You will stay away from her.”

Leah’s face twisted, disbelief and fury mixing.

“Stay away from her?” she echoed. “After what she did to me?”

I took a step forward, voice dropping.

“Yes,” I said. “Because you went into her room looking for trouble, and you found it. And

if you go in there again, you’ll find more.”

Leah’s breathing turned sharp.

Her hands curled into fists.

She looked like she wanted to scream.

Then she snapped, voice shaking with anger and hurt.

“Which side are you on?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge.

Like a trap.

Like she expected me to declare loyalty and prove it with blood.

I didn’t answer.

Not because I didn’t have an answer.

Because anything I said would become ammunition.

If I said Arya’s name, Leah would run to her father and twist it.

If I said Leah’s name, Arya would hear it eventually and it would carve the final nail into

whatever was left.

12:32

27.07%

So I gave Leah nothing.

Leah’s eyes filled with furious tears.

She looked at me like she couldn’t believe I wouldn’t perform devotion for her.

Then she changed the angle again, voice turning sharp and demanding.

“When are we going to start sharing a room?” she asked.

I felt something in my chest harden.

I stared at her, not blinking.

“You want to share a room,” I said slowly.

Leah lifted her chin stubbornly.

“Yes,” she said. “We’re going to Blackbirth together. We’re going to be introduced.

People will expect to see us as a unit. As mates.”

My jaw clenched.

I took one step closer.

“I just lost my unborn child too,” I said, voice low.

Leah flinched, but she didn’t retreat.

1

“I will need time to mourn,” I continued, eyes locked on hers. “You should mourn your

unborn baby too.”

Leah’s mouth tightened.

Her face twisted like I had insulted her.

She didn’t find it comforting,

She found it inconvenient.

“I’m not taking this,” she snapped. “I will report you to my father.”

The threat came out quick, childish, sharp.

My eyes narrowed.

12:32

27.14%

“Go ahead,” I said flatly.

Leah froze.

I stepped closer, voice hardening.

“I have given enough,” I said. “And the worst your father will do is tell you to return

home and refuse to help with the Union.”

Leah’s nostrils flared.

I kept going, because I wanted her to understand something clearly.

“If that happens,” I said, “I will start from scratch.”

Leah’s eyes widened, and for the first time I saw uncertainty flicker behind her arrogance.

“I will get another Alpha to help me,” I continued, voice calm, deliberate. “I will find

another route.”

Leah opened her mouth, then closed it.

I watched the words land.

Then I added the dagger.

“Maybe I’ll speak to Maxwell,” I said, “about Lev.”

Leah went still.

Her expression shifted, something sharp and suspicious.

I saw it instantly, and I kept my face blank.

1 let her sit in it.

Let her wonder.

Let her realise I wasn’t trapped with her the way she thought I was.

She swallowed,

The room went quiet.

Leah didn’t speak for a beat too long.

12:32

27.14%

And I knew I’d gotten her.

Because Leah’s power wasn’t in her claws.

It was in her father’s leverage.

And I had just reminded her, truthfully or not, that I had options.

Options meant she couldn’t simply threaten me and expect obedience.

Leah’s breathing slowed.

Her shoulders lowered slightly.

She didn’t apologise.

Of course she didn’t.

She just recalculated.

Chapter Comment (1)

12:32

27.2%