Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 154

154 Ashes Under Oath 4

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Lev’s POV

Maxwell’s eyes sharpened, and for the first time that night, caution moved across his

face in a way that was not about Marcel.

“Far enough,” he said slowly, “that you should remember something.”

I waited.

He held my gaze and said, “You are in acting capacity for now.”

I went still, then gave a cold smile that held no humour. “For now.”

Maxwell’s look turned flat. “Don’t start posturing at me. I know exactly who your father

was. I know exactly whose bloodline Blackbirth carries.”

My voice stayed calm. “Then you know whether Radimir likes it or not, I’ll succeed him.”

Maxwell nodded once. “I know you believe that.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said. “I know it. Blackbirth belonged to my father. Radimir sat there

because I was too young when Vlad died.”

The room went quiet around my father’s name.

Vlad.

Even now it landed like iron.

Maxwell did not look away. “And Radimir has spent years gaining power while sitting in

that chair.”

“I’m aware.”

“He may not hand it over cleanly if he thinks he can’t control you.”

Something colder than anger slid under my skin.

I said nothing.

Maxwell watched me, and his next words came slower, heavier, as if he wanted each

one fixed in place. “Like I already said, he would have handed that position to his

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daughter if he could.”

I met his eyes. “He can’t.”

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“No,” Maxwell said. “He can’t. Not cleanly. Not without breaking something older than

him.”

My jaw tightened. We both knew why.

Blackbirth’s inheritance line was not just politics. Blood, lineage, maternal claim, old

rules half the Union publicly modernized and privately still obeyed when it mattered.

Radimir and my father shared a father, not a mother. The seat sat differently because of

that. Everyone who truly understood Blackbirth knew it.

Maxwell pointed at me. “Pay attention to that difference.”

I held his gaze, silent.

“He has power,” Maxwell continued. “Too much of it in some places. Enough to make

men pretend law is interpretation if they fear losing influence. If Radimir thinks the

natural order puts a man in that seat he can’t bend, he may try to disrupt the order

itself.”

The words sat in my chest like a warning bell.

Not because I had never considered it.

Because hearing Maxwell say it out loud confirmed he had seen enough to be concerned.

I let the silence stretch before answering. “You think he’d go that far.”

Maxwell’s face gave me nothing comforting. “I think power makes old men inventive.”

A bitter smile touched my mouth and disappeared. “That’s one way to say it.”

“It’s the polite way,” he said.

I leaned back and looked at the ceiling for a second, letting the pieces settle into place. Marcel. Radimir. Arya. Silverfang. Union rot. Bloodline succession. Public courtesy.

Private knives.

This was bigger than one grieving woman and one cowardly Alpha and one predatory

father-in-law.

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But Arya remained the centre of it for me anyway.

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I looked back at Maxwell. “So your advice is what? Sit still. Train her. Smile at Radimir.

Wait.”

“My advice,” he said, “is don’t pick three wars at once because your blood is hot.”

I almost laughed.

Maxwell’s mouth twitched, then flattened again. “Help Arya stand. Watch Marcel. Move

carefully on Union matters. And when you do move, move with proof.”

I nodded once.

He studied me for another beat, then the edge in his eyes shifted, less political now,

more personal.

“If you want to pursue Arya,” he said quietly, “it won’t be easy.”

The room seemed to contract around the words.

I did not look away. “I know she’s not easy.

“That’s not what I meant.”

I waited.

Maxwell exhaled through his nose and looked toward the fire before returning to me.

“Radimir has already asked that I bring Arya to Blackbirth.’

The words landed hard enough that I felt something in me lock.

For a moment I said nothing because there was too much to say and none of it belonged

in the first breath.

Maxwell watched my face carefully.

When I finally spoke, my voice was very calm.

“He asked for her.”

Maxwell nodded once. “Yes.

Shock hit first, clean, sharp, immediate.

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Then instinct followed it like a blade sliding free.

Why.

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