Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 106

106 Anger in the Ring

Arya’s POV

I lunged forward, fists slicing through the air toward his chest, then twisting to aim for his shoulder, quick, aggressive strikes born of pent-up fury. But Lev was a shadow, his forearms meeting my blows with precise blocks, absorbing the force without flinching. No wasted energy, just that infuriating calm

as he deflected me again and again.

“Too much commitment,” he said, voice low and even, like he was commenting on the weather His hand caught my elbow mid-swing, not yanking, but guiding it down in a slow, deliberate pull that brought my side brushing against his torso. The contact was brief, electric, his shirt damp against mine, the heat of his body seeping through. My pulse hammered, a flush creeping up my neck as something uncoiled low in my core, distracting me from the rhythm.

I jerked away, shaking off the haze, but he was already circling, eyes locked on mine with that taunting steadiness. “You’re leaving yourself wide open. Like this?” He stepped in close, faster than I expected, his palm pressing flat against my lower back to arch me slightly, correcting my stance. The pressure was firm, intimate, his fingers splaying just enough to feel the curve of my spine. Breath hitched in my throat; I could feel the rise and fall of his chest inches from mine, his exhale warm against my temple.

“Stop,” I snapped, shoving at his hand, but my voice came out breathier than I intended. Resist. Focus.

This wasn’t about the heat building between us, it was training. But every adjustment he made felt like a claim, his touch lingering a second too long, stirring an ache that made my strikes sloppy.

He released me with a faint hum of amusement, stepping back just out of reach. “Anger makes you predictable, Arya. Use it, or it’ll use you.” His words were calm, almost soothing, but laced with that edge that dared me to prove him wrong.

Frustration boiled over. I charged again, a flurry of punches aimed at his guard, but he sidestepped, his arm wrapping around my waist in a swift counter, pulling me back against him, my back to his front. His grip locked my arms down for a moment, bodies aligned, the hard line of his hips pressing into me. His lips hovered near my ear, breath hot and steady. “Feel that? You’re fighting your own tension. Let it go.”

A shiver raced through me, thighs pressing together against the sudden throb of arousal. His scent enveloped me, musk and earth, making it impossible to think straight. I twisted in his hold, elbow jabbing back, but he anticipated, releasing just enough to let me spin, his fingers trailing down my arm in the process, a feather-light brush that ignited sparks across my skin.

“You’re controlling me like I’m just a body to fix,” I hissed, circling him now, chest heaving. The words tumbled out, laced with resentment, my body still humming from his proximity. Every block, every touch, felt like he was peeling back layers I wasn’t ready to show.

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Lev didn’t rise to the bait. He stood there, unmoving, that composed gaze dissecting me. “I’m helping you face it. The justice you crave, the revenge, it’s all tangled in this anger. Your trauma’s chaining you

Break it.”

His calm only fueled the fire. I swung harder, a strike toward his jaw, but he caught my wrist again, tugging me forward until our faces were inches apart, his free hand steadying my hip. The pull brought my breasts brushing his chest, nipples tightening under the thin fabric from the friction and the intensity of his stare. “Let me help you stop being its puppet,” he murmured, voice a velvet taunt near my ear, breath fanning my neck.

Heat flooded me, arousal warring with rage, making my free hand tremble as I pushed against his

shoulder. “You don’t get to touch me like this. You’re overstepping, dominating, like my pain’s just

another lesson for you.”

He held my gaze, unflinching, his thumb grazing the inside of my wrist in a slow stroke that sent

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