Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 68

68 The Night I Walked Away

Arya’s POV

The alarm went off at 9 p.m.

Not the soft bell they used for meetings. Not the horn they used to call patrols back. This was the attack alarm, a brutal, dragging sound that tore through the packhouse like claws down bone.

I was already awake.

Not because I was rested. Because sleep had become a stranger that visited me in scraps. I’d been lying there in the dark, breathing slow, listening to the corridor outside my door, measuring the rhythm of my warders the way I measured an enemy’s steps on a battlefield.

Boots.

Pause.

Murmur.

Shift.

Boots again.

That had been my world for days.

Then the alarm screamed and the whole packhouse changed in a heartbeat.

Shouts erupted outside. Doors slammed. Feet pounded down halls. Someone yelled an

order. Another voice yelled over it. The noise built fast, panicked, messy, loud.

I sat up instantly, every muscle snapping to attention.

This wasn’t a drill.

No one did drills at night.

No one chose 9 p.m. for a pretend attack.

The first thing I listened for wasn’t the alarm.

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It was my door.

The guards.

My warders.

The men who’d been posted outside like I was some rabid beast that needed to be

watched until the end of time.

I heard them.

Two voices.

Close.

Tense.

Then,

“I’m going,” one snapped.

“We’re not meant to leave,” the other started.

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‘Are you deaf?” the first barked. “That’s the attack alarm.”

A pause.

Then the sound that made my heart go still in my chest.

Bootsteps moving away from my door.

Fast.

Urgent.

Leaving their post.

I blinked once in the darkness.

Then I smiled.

Not sweet.

Not happy.

Sharp.

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I didn’t owe anyone anything.

But something in my chest eased anyway.

I grabbed my bundle and moved again, faster now.

I slipped around the edge of the fight, staying low, staying smart, letting bodies and chaos block sightlines.

Then I heard a different kind of scream.

Not war.

Panic.

A woman.

I turned my head and saw it.

A man on the ground being attacked, wolves tearing into him, ripping him apart while he begged and choked and tried to crawl away.

His wife, young, desperate, ran toward me, eyes wide, face wet with tears, hands reaching like I was a saviour.

“Luna!” she sobbed. “Luna, please, help him! Please!”

More pack members saw me then.

Their eyes widened.

Their faces twisted with hope and fear.

“Luna Arya!”

“Please, Luna!”

“Help us!”

It took everything in me not to laugh in their faces.

Not because it was funny.

Because it was disgusting.

Because the audacity of them, calling me Luna now, when they had watched me bleed

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Metal clanged.

A howl tore through the night, wolf, furious, commanding.

I felt my pulse quicken.

Not fear.

Focus.

My wrist brushed against my sleeve and I felt the skin there, still tender from where the

bracelet had been.

The bracelet was gone.

The silver wasn’t biting me anymore.

I still didn’t feel fully healed, but I felt strong enough.

Strong enough to run.

Strong enough to fight if I had to.

I moved to the door quietly.

No chain.

James had removed the chains days ago, as if that single act was supposed to mean

something. As if it was meant to soften the cage.

The door was still locked sometimes.

Watched always.

But tonight,

Tonight was chaos.

I pressed my ear to the wood.

No guard breathing outside,

No boots stationed close.

Nothing.

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