Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 88

88 Chants I Don’t Deserve 2

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James’s POV

The movement made her eyes flicker with anticipation.

She stepped closer.

“I’ve been yearning for your touch,” she said, voice lowering. “For a while now.”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

Leah continued, voice sharper, impatient now.

“Now that Arya is no longer around to make you feel guilty,” she said, “you can touch your wife.

My blood went cold.

Don’t say her name.

Not like that.

Not like Arya was a guilt trip.

Not like Arya was a shadow Leah could finally step out from under.

Leah stepped closer and placed her hands on my shoulders, leaning in to kiss me.

I shoved her hands off.

Hard.

She stumbled back half a step, eyes flashing.

“Don’t,” I warned.

Leah’s face twisted.

“James!” she hissed. “What is wrong with you?”

No one could replace Arya.

No one.

But I didn’t say it.

Because Leah would weaponise it.

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She would cry to Marcel.

She would twist it.

Instead, I kept my voice flat.

“Leave my office,” I said. “I have damages to fix.”

Leah’s mouth fell open.

“You can’t be serious,” she said.

I didn’t respond.

Leah’s face reddened.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” she snapped. “After my father, after,

“Leave,” I repeated.

She slammed her hand against the desk.

The scotch bottle rattled.

“I am your wife!” she screamed.

I stared at her.

Cold.

Unmoved.

She didn’t like that.

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Me

Leah’s voice turned shrill.

“Touch me!” she demanded. “Touch me like a husband should! You can’t keep punishing me because

of her!”

Her.

Arya again.

I took a step forward, voice low enough that it made the air tremble.

“If you say her name again in this office,” I said slowly, “I will throw you out myself.”

Leah froze.

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Her eyes widened slightly.

Not fear

Shock

Because she was used to being handled gently.

Used to being indulged.

Used to being treated like she was precious.

Not like an inconvenience.

She swallowed.

Then her face twisted into rage.

“You’re disgusting,” she spat. “You think you can just ignore me? My father will,”

“Go,” I cut in.

Leah’s hands shook.

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She looked like she wanted to attack me.

Then she turned sharply and stormed out, robe swaying like she was trying to maintain dignity while

she lost control.

The door slammed behind her.

I stood there for a moment, breathing hard.

Then I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down my face again.

Regret sat heavy.

How did I end up like this?

How did I end up in a situation where the woman in my bed repulsed me, and the woman I truly needed had vanished into the night?

I stared at the scotch bottle.

My hand hovered.

Then I pushed it away.

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Alcohol wouldn’t fix anything.

I needed action.

I needed control.

I needed to prove to my pack I was still Alpha.

Even if I felt like a hollow shell.

So I stepped out of my office, walked to the balcony, and barked the order to my guards.

“All pack members to the grounds,” I commanded. “Now. Everyone.”

The order travelled fast.

Messengers moved.

Warriors shouted.

People began to gather.

I headed down to the grounds myself.

The walk felt long.

Not because of distance.

Because my eyes kept catching the damage.

Burnt houses.

Collapsed structures.

Blood stains.

People with bandages.

People carrying bodies.

Children clinging to mothers with blank eyes.

The pack looked smaller.

Not physically.

Spiritually.

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Like something had been taken that couldn’t be replaced

By the time I reached the grounds, most of the pack members were there.

Not all.

* Got 2# *

Mone

Some were too injured to stand.

Some were too broken to come.

Some were dead.

I climbed onto the raised platform.

I looked out at them.

And the sight punched the air out of my chest.

One-eighth.

That was what my mind calculated automatically.

One-eighth of my people gone.

Gone in one night.

Gone while I was away.

Gone while I was being fooled.

Gone while Arya was locked behind a door and yet still ended up being the one to help save what

remained.

My throat tightened.

I forced my voice steady.

“My people,” I began.

The crowd quieted.

Faces stared up at me.

Angry.

Grieving.

Tired.

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Suspicious.

Hopeful.

A mix that made my stomach churn.

Menur

“I want to begin,” I said, voice carrying, “by condoling those of you who lost mates, children, friends,

and family.”

A few sobs rose in the crowd.

A few people bowed their heads.

Others stared at me like condolences were meaningless.

I continued anyway.

“I am sorry,” I said, words heavy. “I am sorry I was not here when it happened.”

Murmurs spread.

Some scoffed.

Some nodded slightly.

I pressed on.

“I commend our officers,” I said, lifting my chin slightly. “Beta Nixon. Gamma Devin. Delta Archie.

Every warrior who stood their ground and fought to protect this pack.”

Nixon stood in the crowd, arms crossed, face hard.

Devin and Archie flanked him.

They didn’t look pleased by praise.

They looked like men who didn’t trust me anymore.

I swallowed, then continued.

“You fought bravely,” I said. “And because of you, we are still standing.”

A few people murmured agreement.

I took a breath.

“And I promise you,”

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Before I could finish, a chant rose from somewhere in the crowd

Not loud at first.

Just a few voices.

Then it grew

Stronger.

Sharper.

A name.

A demand.

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“We want our old Luna back!”

My chest tightened violently.

My breath caught.

My eyes flicked across the crowd, searching for the source, but the chant spread too fast.

“We want our old Luna back!”

Again.

Again.

Some voices were angry.

Some were pleading.

Some were crying.

Some were guilty.

“We want Luna Arya!”

My heart felt like it was being ripped open.

Because hearing them chant for her didn’t comfort me.

It didn’t feel like redemption.

It felt like punishment.

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