Chapter 4 Unnoticed
ARYA
“What?” my voice was shaky as I asked.
“Yeah, they were highly trained and too organized to pass off as rogues.”
A chill went through me that had nothing to do with the weather. “Do you know who they are?”
He paused for so long, I thought the phone disconnected before his voice came again. “No. Not yet. But we’re working on it.”
I shut my eyes and leaned my head back. “Should we be worried?”
That was more should ‘I’ be worried since for some reason, Jaime thought they were looking for me.
“I don’t want to assume anything yet. Jaime knows, even if he won’t admit it, that mentioning you was wrong,” he said gently. “But until we know more, it’s best we act like nothing happened. The dinner stays on.”
I swallowed, speaking with a confidence I didn't feel. “Right. Luna mask on.”
“Arya,” Ryker’s voice softened. “We’ve got your back, okay?”
“I know.” And I did. At least with him.
After the bath, I dressed quickly and checked in with the staff. Flowers now lined the staircase. Soft ivories and muted golds and silver. The decorators were transforming the living room into something that almost looked romantic. Ironic.
I almost laughed to myself.
Dinner was three hours away, and I still needed final confirmation on the menu. The chef needed to know if the special Northern game dish was approved, since it would reflect our Pack’s culture.
So I did something I rarely allowed myself to do anymore.
I called Jaime.
It rang and rang and I was about to give up when he picked it up.
“Elira speaking.”
I froze. The shock of hearing her voice almost rendered me speechless.
She didn’t even try to sound polite.
“I… I was trying to reach Jaime,” I managed to get my newly developed stutter.
“Oh, I'll let him know,” she said breezily. I could hear his voice in the background. “Do you need something urgently? JJ is kind of busy right now.”
My throat tightened. “Just a food preference for dinner. The North Pack dish. The chef needed to know—”
“Hm,” she interrupted, already sounding bored. “He said to skip it. Some people might find it too… foreign.”
She didn’t even ask who was on the guest list. Didn’t check to see if their cultural dishes might be important.
“I’ll pass it on,” I muttered, and hung up.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the dark screen, my reflection faint in the glass. My hair was still slightly damp from the bath and clinging to my face. It made my despair more profound. My chest felt too tight.
Jaime wouldn’t even answer his wife’s call. But Elira would. She had access to his phone and she could speak for him. Decide for him.
And he let her.
I moved through the rest of the evening like a ghost even if all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob. The staff needed decisions. The decorators wanted approval. There were too many opinions and not enough time. I smiled. I nodded. I did everything a Luna should.
Nobody would thank me. Jaime would notice. And I wouldn't get any recognition for it but I had to because it was my duty.
I remembered something Jaime’s grandmother once said to me. It was the night of my Luna ceremony, a full year after our wedding. I had been sitting alone in a corner while everyone else celebrated.
She found me there, looked me in the eye and said, “Being Luna isn’t about the Alpha. It’s about the pack. The people. The role. Focus on the work, child, and you won’t miss what he fails to give you.”
At the time, I didn’t understand what she meant. Now, I live it.
By the time everything was set, the night had begun to fall, and the house was glowing with warm light. It looked beautiful. Magical, even.
And none of it was for me.
Jaime will be here but he wouldn’t care. I would smile, nod, and host a perfect dinner.
Because that’s what a Luna does.
Even when she’s breaking.
The house looked perfect by evening.
The floral arrangements curved along the banister like ivy from a fairytale. The scent of wild jasmines and moon roses clung to the air, soft and dreamy. Dozens of tiny lights had been hung across the ceiling, giving the illusion of a starlit night indoors. If I squinted hard enough, I could almost pretend it was magic.
But it wasn’t magic. It was work. My work. My duty. My job as Luna.
And I did it all in honor of a marriage that had become nothing more than a press release. Five years of silence in a home built on formalities.
I chose a soft silver gown for the evening. The fabric hugged my frame lightly and fell down in clean lines to the floor.
The neckline was modest, a quiet curve that framed my collarbones without drawing attention, and the sleeves fell off my shoulders like whispers.
No glitter. No beads. No shimmer.
Just a muted elegance. The kind Jaime couldn’t possibly disapprove of, because it wasn’t bold enough to be noticed.
I left my hair down. Chestnut waves falling like silk across my back, and wore only the amulet. It sat against my chest like a quiet rebellion, the only thing I’d chosen for me. That and my wedding ring were my only accessories.
Guests had begun to arrive. I stood by the entrance like a good hostess, smiling, nodding, thanking them for coming. Pretending I was ecstatic and living the best life. Even though I was slowly dying on the inside.
I fought the urge to grab onto my necklace. The only thing that gave me comfort when I felt like I was sinking.
“Beautiful as always, Luna Arya,” one of the visiting alphas said with a glassy smile. “You really bring elegance to this place.”
I smiled and thanked him, even though his eyes flickered away the moment he spotted Jaime.
He commanded the room even before he was fully in it. Tall, composed, devastating in black with… someone was on his arm.
Elira.
