Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 95

Chapter 95 Sworn In, Scent-Struck

Arya’s POV

Evening came with purpose.

Not the slow kind that creeps in and makes people lazy. This evening arrived like an order, sharp.

deliberate, unavoidable.

A maid knocked, then another. Dresses were offered, but I chose what felt like armour: clean, dark

fabric, long sleeves, a high collar that kept my neck covered without looking like I was hiding: I wasn’t

going to step onto Dragonclaw’s assembly grounds looking fragile. I wasn’t going to stand in front of a

pack and invite judgement with exposed skin.

Maxwell had promised I would not be called rogue under his roof.

Tonight, he planned to make the promise loud.

I walked out of my room with my head high and my hands steady.

A guard escorted me, not like a prisoner, not like a suspect, like someone important enough to be

protected. The difference wasn’t subtle, and it made my chest tighten in a strange way. It had been

long I had been escorted for honour.

We reached the assembly grounds, and I felt the pack before I fully saw them.

Wolves.

Many.

Standing in clusters, murmuring, watching, waiting.

A semicircle had been formed near the raised platform, and torches burned in tall stands, casting

warm light over faces that looked curious and expectant.

Most of the pack members were present.

Not just warriors.

Women. Elders. Younger wolves. Children standing close to their mothers. Men with arms crossed and

eyes sharp.

And the moment I stepped into view, a ripple ran through them.

Whispers.

Chapter 95 Sworn in Scent Struck

Heads turning.

Eyes locking on me.

Texa

There it was again, that familiar, instinctive assessment wolves do when something new enters the

territory.

Who is she?

Why is she here?

Is she threat or asset?

What does Alpha want?

I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t slow.

I didn’t look down.

I walked straight to where they indicated and stopped at the centre of the open space, standing alone in front of the pack.

For one heartbeat, the sight almost made me laugh.

Me.

Standing before another pack.

Waiting to be judged again.

Waiting to be claimed again.

Waiting to be named again.

The old instinct tried to rise, defensiveness, clenched fists, the readiness to fight if anyone spoke too sharply.

But this wasn’t Nightwind.

And Maxwell wasn’t James.

A hush spread as Maxwell stepped onto the raised platform.

His presence didn’t need an announcement. It carried itself. The pack straightened immediately. The murmurs softened. Warriors shifted into disciplined stillness.

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Maxwell lifted one hand

Silence fell.

Then he looked at me.

Not like a stranger.

Not like a pawn.

Like family.

“My pack,” he began, voice strong enough to carry across the grounds without shouting.

The crowd listened.

“You know what this night is,” Maxwell continued. “And you know why we are gathered.”

He paused just long enough for the tension to settle.

Then he did it.

He said my name like it mattered.

“Arya.”

A murmur ran through the crowd again.

Maxwell lifted his chin slightly.

“This woman stands before you today not as a visitor,” he said. “Not as a guest.”

He pointed at me, firm.

“She stands before you as my daughter.”

The pack reacted instantly.

Some gasped.

Some cheered immediately, as if the Alpha’s claim was all they needed to celebrate.

Others stiffened, eyes narrowing, suspicion sharpening their faces.

But Maxwell didn’t wait for them to sort their feelings.

He kept speaking, and his voice gained weight with every sentence.

Morm

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Chapter 95 Sworn in, Scent-Struck

Mer

“Arya is brave,” he said. “A warrior. A woman who has faced what would break most of you, and she is

still standing.”

The cheers rose louder.

“Warrior!” scmeone shouted.

“Dragonclaw!” another voice followed, excited.

Maxwell’s mouth tightened slightly, not a smile, but something close to pride.

“She is an incredible addition to this pack,” he continued. “Not because she will make you

comfortable. Not because she will flatter you. But because she will strengthen what we are.

More cheers.

I held my face calm, even as something warm and sharp twisted in my chest. Praise had never landed

cleanly on me. Praise always came with expectation. With strings. With demands.

Still, hearing a pack cheer for me, cheer without hatred, without mockery, felt like stepping into a world that didn’t hate me on sight.

But then the other voices came.

The ones Maxwell couldn’t silence by speaking louder.

The ones that carried fear disguised as “concern.”

A man near the front stepped forward slightly, voice raised.

“Alpha!” he called.

The crowd shifted.

Maxwell’s gaze snapped to him.

The man swallowed, but kept going anyway.

“Why would you adopt a rogue?” he demanded.

A few murmurs of agreement rose.

Another voice joined, sharper.

“If her Alpha cast her out,” a woman said, eyes narrowed, “then she might be trouble for us.”

A deeper voice cut through.

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“If she is as valuable as you claim,” someone said, “why cast her out to begin with?”

The words landed like stones.

Not because they hurt me.

Because they were familiar.

Because Nightwind’s pack members had asked questions like that too, just before they decided they

wanted me dead.

I kept my posture steady.

I didn’t react.

I watched Maxwell.

He didn’t flinch either.

His face hardened.

“Silence,” he snapped.

The word cracked across the grounds like a whip.

The murmurs died, but not fully.

A few people still looked unconvinced, still hungry for explanation. Wolves hated uncertainty. They

feared what they didn’t understand.

Maxwell’s eyes burned.

“I said silence,” he repeated, colder. “And I meant it.”

The pack quieted fully this time, but I could still feel the resistance under their skin. The doubt. The

unease.

And that mattered.

Because even if Maxwell could shut them up tonight, whispers could grow teeth tomorrow.

And I wasn’t going to let my presence become a slow poison in his pack.

Maxwell could fight for me.

But I owed him honesty.

So before Maxwell could continue, I stepped forward.

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One step

The crowd shifted again, surprised that I moved without being told.

Maxwell’s gaze flicked to me.

A waming.

A question.

I lifted my chin.

“Alpha Maxwell,” I said, loud enough for all to hear, “let me speak.”

The pack stilled.

Maxwell studied me for a beat.

Then he nodded once.