Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 82

82 Lies in My Office, Ash on My Hands 3

James’s POV

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Marcel’s posture eased, just a fraction, like he was pleased to have removed the interference.

I didn’t sit

I stood behind my desk, hands braced on the wood, controlling my breathing.

Marcel studied my face.

Then he spoke, voice calm again.

“How bad is it?” he asked. “How many did you lose?”

“Enough,” I said.

Leah stepped closer.

“James,” she started.

I cut her off without looking at her.

“Not now,” I said.

Leah froze.

Marcel’s eyes narrowed.

But I didn’t care.

I didn’t have room for her performance.

I didn’t have room for Marcel’s concern.

I had one thing that mattered now

Truth

Or at least, whatever version of it Marcel would admit.

So I faced Marcel directly and spoke

“How long,” I asked, voice tight, “will it take for me to get Union approval?”

Marcel didn’t hesitate.

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“Soon,” he said confidently.

I leaned forward slightly.

“Explain the process,” I demanded.

Marcel blinked once.

Leah glanced at her father, then back at me.

Marcel’s voice stayed steady.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean exactly what I said,” I replied. “Explain the process.”

Marcel’s eyes flicked to Leah briefly, then back to me.

A small movement.

A silent check-in.

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Leah straightened, alert now.

Marcel’s voice shifted, smooth.

“Why?” he asked. “Has someone confused you?”

I held his gaze.

“Why would you think that?” I asked flatly. “I just need you to explain the process.”

Marcel’s expression tightened slightly, but he kept it controlled.

I continued before he could redirect.

“Because according to procedure,” I said, voice hardening, “I am to go to the head office in Blackbirth with my Luna for a licence.”

Leah’s mouth tightened at the word Luna.

I didn’t care.

I kept going

“There is no place,” I said, “where they mention officers coming to my pack.”

Marcel’s eyes sharpened

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For the first time since he stepped into my office, he looked… cornered.

Not panicked.

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Not guilty

But wary

Like a man who hadn’t expected the puppet to start cutting its strings.

Leah looked between us, confused.

Marcel’s lips parted, then he closed them again, thinking.

I watched him closely.

Every micro-expression.

Every pause.

Every flicker of calculation.

Then Marcel smiled.

A slow, confident smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“That,” he said smoothly, “was my way of expediting things.”

I didn’t move.

Marcel continued, voice calm.

“That is why I didn’t want you discussing it with officers at the gathering,” he said. “Because it wasn’t

meant for general conversation.”

I leaned forward slightly.

“Those men who came to my pack,” I said slowly, “were meant to expedite it?”

Marcel nodded without hesitation.

“Yes,” he said. “They were there to speed up evaluation and paperwork”

I held his gaze.

Leah’s eyes widened slightly, still trying to follow

Marcel’s tone stayed firm

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“Normal procedure,” Marcel explained, “requires time. A pack must exist for five years before full

evaluation and certification can be done.”

He said it like he was teaching me something obvious.

Like I was a student.

He continued, voice smooth and confident.

“But because I am involved,” he said, “I can pull strings.”

Leah nodded quickly, relieved.

Marcel gestured lightly with his hand.

“The men who came to your pack were part of that effort,” he said. “They were meant to accelerate

things.”

I stared at him.

His story was too neat.

Too polished.

Too rehearsed.

And yet,

It was plausible enough that it could pass.

Plausible enough that if I accused him outright, he could act offended and wounded and “helpful”

while making me look insane.

Plausible enough that Leah would believe him.

Plausible enough that my pack might believe him too if I was careful with how I spoke.

1 swallowed hard

“So you lied to me,” I said quietly.

Marcel’s brows lifted slightly.

“I did not lie,” he said evenly. “I simplified.”

Leah stepped closer, eyes bright, eager to defend her father

“My father is helping us,” she said quickly. “James, why are you being.”

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“Quiet,” I snapped.

Leah froze

Marcel’s eyes narrowed.

But I didn’t care.

I wasn’t in the mood for Leah’s loyalty play.

I wasn’t in the mood for Marcel’s manipulation.

Not after the bodies in my yard.

Not after Arya’s empty room.

Not after realising I might have severed my mate for a lie.

Marcel’s voice remained calm, but harder now.

“You are emotional,” he said, like it explained everything. “You have had a difficult night.”

He paused deliberately, then added, “And you have lost much.”

The words were meant to soothe.

To steer.

To regain control.

They didn’t.

I stared at him, jaw clenched.

“Soon,” I repeated, voice cold. “You keep saying soon.”

Marcel nodded.

“Soon,” he confirmed.

“How soon?” I demanded.

Marcel’s lips tightened briefly.

“James,” he said quietly, “you are my son-in-law. I am not your enemy.”

My stomach turned.

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Because that was exactly the kind of thing an enemy said

I didn’t respond.

Marcel watched me for a long beat.

Then he sighed, like a man burdened by my doubt.

“I will handle it,” he said. “I always have. I will continue to.”

I wanted to believe him.

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Somewhere in my heart, a stupid part of me wanted to cling to the idea that Marcel was not the villain

here.

Because if he was,

Then everything I did to Arya was unforgivable.

Everything.

And I had to live with that.

Marcel turned slightly, resting a hand on Leah’s shoulder.

“Your pack has suffered,” he said. “You need allies. You need protection. You need the Union.”

I clenched my teeth.

Because he was right about one thing.

My pack was bleeding.

My people were scared.

And now they doubted me.

They would demand answers I didn’t have.

They would demand safety I couldn’t guarantee.

The Union would stabilise them.

Even if it came with a leash.

Marcel’s leash.

Leah’s leash.

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A leash I’d already accepted too many times

Leah spoke softly then, trying again.

“James. we will get through this,” she said, eyes shining like she was playing the role of supportive

Luna “My father will help. And Arya is gone, so there’s no more danger from her

The mention of Arya snapped something in me.

I turned my head sharply.

Leah flinched under the weight of my stare.

“You think she’s the danger?” I asked, voice low.

Leah swallowed.

“I’m just saying,” she began.

“You should stop saying,” I cut in.

Leah’s mouth closed.

Marcel watched me carefully now.

As if measuring.

As if trying to decide whether I was still controllable.

I forced my breathing to steady.

Then I asked Marcel the question that mattered most.

“If you were expediting things,” I said slowly, “why did you bring me to Blackbirth yesterday?”

Marcel didn’t blink.

“Because appearances matter,” he replied smoothly. “Because networking matters. Because you

needed to be seen.”

I stared at him, suspicion tightening my chest.

“And why,” I pressed, “were you so determined I shouldn’t speak to officers alone?”

Marcel’s expression didn’t crack.

“Because you are not experienced in Union politics,” he said. “You would have said something

careless.”

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He paused, then added, “Like mentioning those men who came to your pack.”

He said it with such calm confidence that Leah nodded again, convinced.

I wasn’t.

Because Maxwell’s words still rang in my head.

Because Nixon’s warning still sat in my bones.

Because the timing was too perfect.

Because Marcel’s calls to me during the drive had been too relentless.

Because Marcel stopping his calls right before I arrived felt like calculated theatre.

I swallowed, jaw tight.

Marcel stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly as if offering intimacy.

“James,” he said, “you are tired. You are grieving. Your pack needs you. Don’t let doubt make you reckless.”

My hands clenched tighter on the desk.

Doubt.

Reckless.

He was framing my suspicion as weakness.

He was trying to shame me back into obedience.

And a part of me wanted to snap his throat.

But I didn’t.

Because I didn’t have proof.

Because I didn’t have leverage.

Because my pack was still too vulnerable.

So I forced my voice flat.

“Fine,” I said. “Soon.”

Marcel nodded, satisfied.

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Leah relaxed.

Marcel leaned back slightly, resuming the concerned father again.

– R

“I will send warriors to reinforce your borders,” he said. “You should interrogate the prisoners quickly Find out who sent them. Then we will respond.”

I stared at him.

“Yes,” I said, but my voice held no warmth.

Marcel didn’t seem to care.

He turned to Leah.

“Come,” he said. “Let James rest.”

Leah stepped toward me again, hesitant.

“James,” she tried.

I lifted a hand.

“Go,” I said.

Leah swallowed, eyes flicking over my face like she was trying to find the man who used to smile at her performance.

She didn’t find him.

Marcel guided her out.

The door closed.

And the moment I was alone, the mask dropped.

My shoulders sagged slightly.

My chest hurt.

My hands shook again.

Not from fear of Marcel.

From the sheer weight of everything I’d lost.

I stared at the desk, then at my office walls, then at the door, as if I could see through it to where Arya had run.

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Had I been deceived?

Had I lost Arya for nothing?

Only time would tell.

But one thing was already clear:

I did not plan to let Arya go.

I would search for her.

I would find her.

And I would bring her back.

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