Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 64

64 The Bracelet Comes Off 3

Arya’s POV

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Lesley reached for the medication, her healer mask sliding back over her face.

“Take this,” she ordered softly, professional now. “You need your strength.”

I stared at the dose, then took it.

Not because I trusted the pack.

Because I trusted Lesley.

Because I trusted that she wouldn’t poison me.

Because I needed my body to obey.

Lesley administered the rest, her hands gentle but quick.

No unnecessary softness.

No lingering.

She knew we didn’t have time for sentiment.

When she finished, she looked at me.

Her

eyes were wet, but her voice stayed firm.

“Two to three days,” she said again. “Heal. Eat. Sleep. Don’t give them a reason to search

you.”

I nodded once.

Lesley’s gaze flicked to the bracelet on my wrist.

“Hide it,” she murmured. “Once it’s off.”

My lips twitched, humourless.

“I know,” I said.

Lesley swallowed and stepped closer suddenly.

Then, before I could stop her, she wrapped her arms around me.

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A hug.

Tight.

Quick.

Like she was trying to transfer courage through skin.

For a moment, my body went still.

Then my arms lifted and returned it.

Not because I needed comfort.

Because it was… human.

Because she had risked everything.

Because she was the only person in this pack who had treated me like I still mattered.

Lesley pulled back fast, wiping her face with the side of her hand as if emotion was a weakness she didn’t have time for.

“Go,” she whispered again.

Then she turned toward the door.

She paused with her hand on the latch and looked back at me one last time.

“Don’t let him keep you,” she said.

Then she slipped out.

The door closed.

The lock clicked.

Silence returned.

But it wasn’t the same silence as before.

Before, the silence was a cage,

Now, it was a countdown.

I didn’t rush.

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康

Rushing made mistakes.

Mistakes got you caught.

I placed the pliers under the mattress first, out of sight.

Then I moved to the small surface where the tray sat and pocketed the cash quickly, tucking it deep where fabric folded.

I checked the door again.

Nothing.

No sudden key turn.

No guard bursting in.

Good.

I sat on the bed and breathed slowly.

Then I pulled the pliers out again.

My hands were steady.

The bracelet sat on my wrist like a quiet insult.

I positioned the pliers carefully.

Not on the zinc.

On the spot where the silver core would be most vulnerable.

I squeezed.

Metal resisted.

I squeezed harder.

The bracelet bit into my

Heat flared.

Not just from pressure.

skin.

From the silver inside reacting.

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It didn’t like being threatened.

Good.

I squeezed again.

A tiny creak.

Not loud enough to alert anyone outside.

Just enough to tell me it was working.

Pain flashed along my wrist.

I ignored it.

I adjusted the angle, jaw clenched, and squeezed again.

The metal groaned.

My wrist throbbed.

My skin felt raw beneath the band.

I kept going.

Slow.

Controlled.

Not frantic.

Because frantic hands slipped.

Because frantic hands made noise.

Because frantic hands failed.

I squeezed again.

A sharper creak.

Then,

A snap.

Small.

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Clean.

The bracelet loosened slightly.

My breath hitched once.

I didn’t stop.

I widened the gap with careful pressure, easing the metal apart until the bracelet could slide.

Then I lifted it.

Slowly.

Gently.

Like it was a sleeping snake.

And I pulled it off my

wrist.

The moment it left my skin, something shifted in my body so fast I almost swayed.

Strength rushed in.

Not dramatic lightning.

Not some magical roar.

A rush of my own blood recognising it could run freely again.

A rush of my wolf’s energy returning like a tide.

Heat moved through my arms, my shoulders, my spine.

My skin felt… awake.

My senses sharpened slightly.

The air felt clearer.

The room felt less suffocating.

For a second, relief threatened to crack my composure.

Then I noticed it.

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The silence inside me.

I listened.

Hard.

Waiting.

Ria.

My wolf.

My constant.

My fierce voice.

My anchor.

Nothing.

No growl.

No presence.

No warm pressure in my chest.

Just… absence.

My throat tightened.

But I didn’t panic.

Not here.

Not now.

Not when the bracelet had only just come off.

I knew it would take time.

The silver had suppressed me too long.

My body had been battered too hard.

My wolf was there.

She was only… quiet.

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Healing.

Recovering.

Waiting.

And if she wasn’t,

If something had happened to her deeper than silence,

Then I would deal with that too.

Later.

Not now.

Now I needed to hide the evidence.

I stared at my bare wrist.

Red marks.

Tender skin.

A faint indent.

If a guard saw it, they’d know immediately.

They’d search the room.

They’d drag me out.

They’d put a new bracelet on, stronger, tighter, with no zinc mercy.

They’d chain me again.

No.

I grabbed a long-sleeved shirt from the small pile of my things and slid it on quickly.

Fabric covered my wrist.

Concealed the redness.

Concealed the absence.

I adjusted the sleeve until it sat naturally, not like I was hiding something.

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64 The Bracelet Comes Off 3

Then I looked around the room sharply.

The broken bracelet.

I couldn’t leave it lying around.

I couldn’t hide it somewhere obvious.

They would search eventually.

Not today, maybe, but soon.

Because Leah would scream.

Because Leah would demand punishment.

Because Leah would claim she feared me.

They would tighten restrictions.

They might search my room for weapons.

For evidence.

For “rogue tricks.”

I had to be smarter.

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I wrapped the broken bracelet in a piece of cloth and shoved it deep into the bottom of my belongings, beneath layers that looked untouched, beneath fabric that held the smell

of me, beneath everything.

Not perfect.

But enough for now.

Then I slid the pliers back under the mattress again, flattening the bedding so it looked

normal.

I sat down slowly and forced my breathing steady.

My heart was racing, but my face was calm.

Outside, the guards shifted.

Boots. Pause. Murmur.

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64 The Bracelet Comes Off 3

Normal.

They didn’t know.

Good.

I lifted my wrist under the sleeve and flexed my fingers again.

Strength continued to seep into my limbs like warmth after cold.

Not full.

Not complete.

But returning.

And once it returned fully,

Once I could hear Ria again,

Once my body stopped aching like it would crack,

I would leave.

I would barrel out of this place.

Out of this pack.

Out of this prison.

No one would stop me.

Not the guards.

Not Leah.

Not Marcel.

Not James.

Not even the entire Forsaken pack.

And leaving didn’t mean I was gone for good.

No.

Leaving meant I lived long enough to come back.

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64 The Bracelet Comes Off 3

It meant I lived long enough to make them pay.

And pay they must..

I pulled the sleeve down again, hiding my wrist completely.

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Then I lay back on the bed, eyes open, ears sharp, listening to the world outside my door

like a hunter listening for the right moment to strike.

Two to three days.

That was the window Lesley gave me.

Two to three days to heal.

Two to three days to pretend I was still restrained.

Two to three days to act like I was still trapped.

Two to three days to let the pack grow complacent.

Then I would disappear.

And when they realised I was gone,

When they realised the rogue they had marked was no longer in her cage,

They would finally understand what they had created.

They thought they broke me.

All they did was sharpen me.

I closed my eyes for a brief second, not to rest, but to seal the promise in my bones.

Once I get my strength back, I will leave.

And no one, no one, will stop me.

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