Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 59

59 Options 2

James’s POV

I watched her eyes flick to the side, then back to me.

She was thinking.

She was weighing.

She was afraid, just a little, that if she pushed too hard, she might lose everything she

thought she’d secured.

Good.

She didn’t need to know the real reason I hadn’t taken that option already.

She didn’t need to know that the thought of Maxwell connecting Arya to Lev made

something feral and possessive rise in my gut.

She didn’t need to know that I suspected Lev had a thing for Arya.

She didn’t need to know that I was hell-bent on never allowing them to meet again.

Leah didn’t need my truth.

She needed my boundary.

“All you need to know,” I said, voice steady, “is that I have options.”

Leah stayed silent.

Her broken nose made her breath sound wet and uneven.

I exhaled slowly,

Then I shifted the conversation where it needed to go, because time was moving, and

the gathering at Blackbirth wasn’t optional.

“You’re going back to your room,” I said,

Leah’s eyes narrowed slightly, still bristling.

“You will get dressed,” I continued. “We’re leaving soon.”

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Leah blinked.

“For what?” she asked, as if she’d forgotten her father’s demand in the excitement of her

complaint.

I kept my voice clipped.

“We’re heading to Blackbirth,” I said. “For a gathering.”

Leah’s expression changed immediately.

Interest sparked.

Pride tried to return.

She straightened, wincing at the pain in her face but refusing to show weakness.

“My father invited us,” she said quickly, eager again, “so he can introduce us to,

“VVIPs,” I finished, flat.

Leah nodded, pleased, as if introductions could cover bruises.

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“As Luna,” she added, as if she needed to remind me.

I stared at her until her smile faltered slightly.

“Go,” I ordered.

Leah held my gaze for a second longer, trying to pull authority from my eyes.

She couldn’t.

Finally, she turned and walked to the door,

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Her steps were still confident, but there was something else in them now, caution.

Before she left, she glanced back.

“You will deal with Arya,” she said, voice tense, as if she needed that promise to feel

safe.

I didn’t answer.

Leah’s jaw tightened.

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Then she stepped out.

The door shut behind her with a softer click than her entrance, as if she’d learned that

barging in wasn’t power.

The moment she was gone, something in me slipped.

Not completely.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

I turned slightly and leaned my palm against the edge of the dresser, head bowing for a

brief second.

My throat tightened.

My chest felt like it was being squeezed by invisible hands.

I looked up at the ceiling and let a single breath escape, rough and raw.

“When will this end?” I muttered.

The words didn’t echo.

They didn’t answer.

They just hung there, pathetic and real.

All I had wanted was Union membership.

Protection,

A shield around my pack.

A guarantee that no Alpha could storm in and take what we built.

Safety for my family.

Safety for my people.

Safety for Arya.

Now,

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Now I had lost my child.

And I had lost my mate.

And still I didn’t have the Union membership.

Still I wasn’t safe.

Still I was bending to another man’s demands.

Still I was being dragged to a gathering like a obedient dog being shown off to

important guests.

I exhaled hard and pushed away from the dresser, forcing my spine straight.

Anger returned quickly, sharp enough to keep me moving.

Because if I stopped, if I sat with it too long, it would crush me.

(10)

I crossed back to my travel gear and began adjusting the straps again, movements

automatic.

Buckle.

Pull.

Tighten.

Check the blade holster.

Check the spare dagger.

Check the travel cloak.

Everything had to look like control even if I felt none.

My jaw clenched.

I was the biggest fool in this.

The thought hit clean and cruel.

Because I had believed I could outplay Marcel Rainhorn,

I had believed I could use his leverage and then cut the strings once the Union was

secured.

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I had believed I could keep Arya safe while sacrificing pieces of her dignity temporarily, temporarily, just until the deal was done.

And now the dignity was gone.

The child was gone.

And Arya looked at me like she wanted me dead.

I swallowed hard, hands moving faster.

I would find a way to get through to her.

I would.

I had to.

Because the alternative was unthinkable.

Because if Arya truly left, if she truly disappeared into the wild with that rogue mark and

her fury, then the story of my pack would become a tragedy written in blood.

I tightened the final strap and stared at my reflection in the small mirror for a half-

second.

My eyes looked older.

Harder.

Tired.

I looked like a man wearing a crown of mistakes.

“After I return,” I murmured, voice low, “I’ll fix it.’

I said it like an order to myself.

Like a vow.

Hopefully we could start all over again when I returned.

As soon as I was a member of the Union, I would put Marcel in his place,

I would.

I would make him understand that my pack wasn’t his playground.

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That Arya wasn’t his toy.

That Leah wasn’t his key.

I would remind him who I was.

The thought should have steadied me.

It didn’t.

Because Nixon’s voice was still in my head, like a blade scraping against bone.

Ambition and fear has made you stupid.

And worse, his insinuation.

That maybe Marcel knew of the poisoning.

That maybe it wasn’t chaos.

That maybe it was a ploy.

A clean, calculated ploy to remove Arya and place Leah as the true Luna.

I felt my stomach tighten again.

My hands paused briefly over the travel pack.

If that was true,

If Marcel had known,

If Marcel had orchestrated it,

Then I had been a fool in a way that couldn’t be forgiven.

Because I didn’t just lose political ground.

I lost the only person who had ever truly loved me.

Arya,

Arya had fought beside me when we had nothing.

She had bled beside me when others ran.

She had built my pack with her hands and her teeth.

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And I,

I had let another Alpha turn her into a spectacle.

I had let my own people cheer while she broke.

I had held the knife that severed her.

My throat tightened again, and I swallowed it down hard.

No.

Not now.

There was no time.

Blackbirth awaited.

Alpha Mark’s gathering, Marcel’s stage.

VVIPs.

Eyes.

Judgements.

Leashes.

I lifted my pack, slung it over my shoulder, and forced my breathing steady.

I would get through the gathering.

I would secure what I needed.

And then,

Then I would find a way to reach Arya.

To make her see,

To make her understand,

That she was the only woman in my heart.

Even if right now she believed I was nothing but her enemy.

Even if right now her hatred was cold and justified.

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Even if right now I felt like a joke in a story I no longer controlled.

I walked to the door and gripped the handle.

For a heartbeat, I held still, staring at the wood like it might stop time.

Then I pulled it open and stepped out, forcing the Alpha mask back onto my face, because if I didn’t wear it, I would break.

And breaking wasn’t allowed.

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