Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 93

93 Not a Rogue Under His Roof

Arya’s POV

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Milley arrived at Maxwell’s house like a spark that didn’t know how to sit still.

I heard her before I saw her, her voice spilling down the corridor, bright and breathless, the kind of

excitement that made guards exchange looks and servants smile behind their hands.

“I can’t believe I’m actually allowed in,” she kept saying, like she thought someone might correct her

any second. “I’ve never stepped inside before. Never. Not even once!”

A guard announced her name at the door, formal, crisp.

Then the door opened, and Milley walked in like she was stepping into a story she’d only ever heard in whispers.

Her eyes were wide. Her mouth was parted slightly. She kept glancing at the walls and the ceiling and the polished floor like she expected the place to judge her for breathing too loudly.

Then she saw me.

Her whole face lit up.

“Arya!” she squealed, then caught herself and lowered her voice, but it was too late, her excitement had already burst into the room. “You’re really here. You’re really in the Alpha’s house.”

I stood up because sitting felt wrong when someone was coming at me with that kind of energy. Milley rushed forward and grabbed my hands like she needed proof that I wasn’t a dream she’d invented on the drive home.

Her palms were warm. Her grip was tight.

“You look… better,” she blurted, then frowned immediately like she realised how stupid that sounded. ” mean, you don’t look,” She swallowed. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,” I said

Milley let out a laugh that sounded like nerves trying to pretend to be humour.

“I’ve been dying to see you,” she said, eyes shining. “Not in a weird way, just, after that night, I kept thinking is she okay.”

“I am.” I said

Milley’s shoulders dropped slightly, relief washing over her face

CC Not a Rogue Under His Roof

“Good,” she breathed. “Good. Because, Arya. I was worried”

I didn’t respond to the worry part

Not because I didn’t appreciate it

Marian

Because wony was a soft thing, and softness still felt dangerous in my mouth. Softness was what

you offered right before someone cut you open.

Milley looked around again, unable to help herself.

“This place is… wow,” she whispered, turning slowly as if she was afraid to miss a detail. “Do you know I’ve lived in Dragonclaw for years and I’ve never been past the outer receiving hall?”

She leaned closer like she was about to confess something illegal.

“I used to walk by and wonder what it looked like in here,” she said. “And now I’m inside.”

Her eyes darted to the doorway and back, as if the guards might change their minds.

“I’m ecstatic,” she added, voice trembling with giddy disbelief.

I made a small sound that could pass for polite acknowledgement.

Milley finally noticed I wasn’t matching her energy.

Her smile dimmed a fraction.

“Oh,” she said softly. “You’re… you’re quiet again.'”

I didn’t deny it.

Because quiet was safer than letting my mouth open and spill fire.

Milley’s gaze stayed on my face, then flicked to my collar. She didn’t stare long.

She swallowed and tried a different approach.

“I brought something,” she said quickly, rummaging in the small purse she carried like a nervous habit.

“It’s not much, just, here.”

She pulled out a little wrapped parcel, sweet bread, maybe, or some snack from the market. Something small. Something friendly.

“I didn’t know what you’d like,” she said, holding it out. “But I thought, if you’re here and you’re safe and

you’re… you know, maybe you’d want something normal.”

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293 Net a Roque Under His Roof

Normal.

The word sat weird in the air

I accepted the parcel anyway, because Milley meant well.

“Thank you,” I said.

Her face brightened again.

“You’re welcome,” she said quickly. “Oh, I should sit, am I allowed to sit?”

She looked around like she needed permission from the furniture.

“You can sit,” I said.

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Milley lowered herself carefully onto the chair opposite mine, perching like she was afraid she’d sink

too deep and embarrass herself.

“This chair is soft,” she whispered, stroking the armrest once like it was a sacred object. “I feel like I’m

committing a crime.”

I almost laughed.

Almost.

But the sound didn’t fully come. It stopped halfway because my mind wouldn’t let me forget what

laughter had sounded like in Nightwind.

Milley kept talking, filling the air because she didn’t know what else to do with silence.

“The guards checked my name twice,” she said, eyes wide. “Twice. And then one of them went to

confirm again, and I thought I was going to faint. I nearly told him, ‘Please, I’m not here to steal

anything.””

I looked at her.

“You look like you would steal a loaf of bread and apologise for it,” I said flatly.

Milley blinked, then burst into a laugh.

“Yes!” she cried. “That’s exactly what I would do.”

Her laughter softened into something warm, and for a second the room felt less tight.

Then Milley leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes shining again.

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93 Not a Roque Under Fts Rouf

“Okay,” she said, lowering her voice, “I have to ask you something.”

My body tensed slightly.

Milley noticed.

She rushed to reassure me.

“Not bad,” she said quickly. “Not gossip. I promise.”

I held her gaze.

Milley inhaled and asked anyway.

“Will you be doing Luna duties?” she said.

The words landed clean and heavy.

Milley continued before I could answer, excitement returning.

Men

“Because, listen, Dragonclaw hasn’t had a Luna in a while,” she said. “People don’t talk about it loudly because it’s… sensitive. Alpha Maxwell lost his Luna in battle and everyone respects him, so no one

wants to,”

She waved a hand vaguely, searching for the right phrasing.

“But the pack has had to make do,” she said. “We’ve had no one to organise certain things. No one to mediate women disputes. No one to oversee ceremonies. The elders try, but it’s not the same. The

pack women… we’re scattered.”

Her eyes flicked to me with hope.

“And now you’re here,” Milley said, almost reverent. “And you’re his daughter. So… will you?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

Not because I didn’t understand.

Because “Luna duties” was a title. A role. A claim.

And I was not about to step into another role that could be used against me.

Not after what “Luna” had become in my life.

Luna had become a cage.

A label they used to punish me when it suited them.

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Not a Rogue Under His Root

A crown they ripped off my head and stomped on when Marcel offered them something shiny

Milley watched my face closely and seemed to sense she’d walked into something tenrier.

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