Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 149

149 Teeth Behind the Throne 2

Lev’s POV

The amusement left him completely now. He pushed off the desk and came around it, slower, attentive. “What do you have in mind?”

I had been ordering men and dismantling threats for years, but saying this aloud in Maxwell’s study made it feel less like instinct and more like declaration.

Good.

Plans that mattered deserved witnesses.

“Marcel is using his Union position to swindle people,” I said. “Leverage. Delay. False promises. Manufactured urgency. He’s hiding coercion under procedure and greed under diplomacy. He’s dangerous because he looks useful.”

Maxwell’s eyes

narrowed in agreement.

I continued, “So we stop treating Silverfang as untouchable. Quietly, first. Audit routes. Complaints. Trade irregularities. Border violations disguised as rogue incidents. We start collecting enough to make his name expensive to defend.”

Maxwell leaned his knuckles on the desk. “And then?”

I met his gaze.

“Then I find a way to remove Silverfang from the Union.”

Silence.

The fire cracked once behind us.

Maxwell didn’t answer immediately. He stared at me for a long moment, reading whether this was anger talking or strategy wearing anger’s face.

It was both.

Finally, he straightened. “Don’t act irrationally yet.”

I said nothing.

He pointed a finger at me, not like a warning to a subordinate but like a man trying to stop another from stepping onto a pressure plate too soon. “Listen to me carefully. Make his life difficult? Yes. Slow his favours? Yes. Force him to sweat in meetings? Certainly. But if you move now to strip Silverfang

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149 Teeth Behind the Throne 2

out of the Union, Radimir won’t accept it.”

“Because he’s fond of Marcel.”

“Yes,”

I held his gaze. “Because my uncle thinks Marcel is a good man.”

Maxwell’s expression said exactly.

I paced once around the chair to keep my hands occupied. “And that is precisely why exposing Marcel matters. If Radimir’s trust in him is public, then Marcel’s fall becomes useful. It proves the Union can cut rot out of itself. It proves titles don’t shield men forever.”

Maxwell gave me a look. “You’re not wrong. You’re early.”

I almost smiled.

That was Maxwell. He rarely called an idea foolish if he could instead call it badly timed.

“I don’t want Marcel merely inconvenienced,” I said. “I want him removed. I want Silverfang

deregistered. Let’s see how long he survives without Union protection when half his power comes from the fear of who will back him if anyone resists.”

Maxwell’s jaw flexed.

For a second, I saw not just Alpha Maxwell but the man who had adopted Arya as his daughter after she called herself a rogue. The man who had kept his rage banked because he understood timing better than younger wolves did.

He understood exactly what I was proposing.

He understood exactly why I wanted it..

“That kind of fall,” he said slowly, “is not one strike. It’s a gradual process.”

“I know.”

“And you,” he added, voice hardening, “are still in acting capacity.”

I stilled.

There it was.

Not insult.

Reality.

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The title sat on me already in practice, but not yet in full ceremony. Not while Radimir remained in place. Not while older men still measured whether I would be easier to guide than my uncle would have been.

Maxwell watched my face carefully as he continued. “Until Radimir fully steps down, every major move you make will be judged as either stewardship… or ambition.”

I held his stare and felt the old iron rise under my ribs.

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“Whether Radimir likes it or not,” I said, “I will be the one to succeed him.”

No raised voice.

No bark.

Just fact.

“Blackbirth originally belonged to my father. Radimir was there because I was too young when Vlad died.” I took one step closer, the fire behind me throwing my shadow long across the floor. “Temporary guardianship became habit. Habit became power. That does not change blood.”

Maxwell’s eyes didn’t leave mine. If anything, they sharpened with approval at the lack of hesitation.

“I understand that,” he said. “I do.”

He pushed off the desk completely now and came around to stand in front of me, close enough for the conversation to lose any pretence of casualness.

“But understanding your claim and trusting the road to it are two different things.”

I said nothing.

Maxwell lowered his voice. “Radimir would have handed everything to his daughter if he could.”

A cold, familiar truth.

I looked away briefly, jaw tightening.

“He can’t,” Maxwell went on, “because Blackbirth did not come to him whole. It came through a line he does not own completely. You know this, but I’m saying it again because men die when they forget what old women’s bloodlines mean in public power.”

My gaze returned to him.

He held up a hand and counted it off with blunt fingers.

“You and Radimir’s daughter share no rightful path through Blackbirth’s original inheritance. Why?” He

149 Teeth Behind the Throne 2

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