Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 170

170 The Toast and the Trap 2

Arya’s POVO

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I saw it then, clearly, the old wolf praising his daughter within the same breath he

handed public responsibility to the heir he could not replace. Praise as blade. Approval

as correction.

Diana lowered her eyes modestly, but the faint satisfaction in her expression did not

disappear fast enough.

Mary, the other young woman, hid her reaction behind her glass, though her gaze flicked

quickly between Radimir and Lev as if she already knew a storm was coming and

wanted the best seat for it.

The room waited.

Lev took his glass from a server, turned slightly toward Radimir, and smiled.

It was a beautiful smile.

Polite.

Controlled.

Almost warm.

It fooled no one who had ever seen a wolf show teeth before a bite.

“As regent,” Lev said smoothly, “you have done your best for Blackbirth and the Union,

and that work is not unappreciated.”

Another wave of approving murmurs moved through the hall. Radimir nodded, gracious

in public.

Then Lev continued, still smiling.

“I value what has been preserved. And I am confident in my ability to carry my

grandmother’s family legacy without fail.”

My breath caught.

The shift was subtle enough to sound respectful to outsiders.

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<170 The Toast and the Trap 2

It was not.

The hall felt it.

So did Radimir.

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Lev had just reminded the room, politely and publicly, that Blackbirth was not Radimir’s

to define through preference. That the seat he occupied had lineage older than his

regency. That inheritance and legitimacy were not the same thing as long possession.

He had called him regent and praised him in the same sentence he reclaimed the blood-

right Radimir could never fully own.

Maxwell’s fingers tightened around his glass beside me.

There was no applause this time.

Only careful silence and a few measured smiles from wolves who understood exactly

how much blood can be hidden inside courteous words.

Lev turned slightly toward Diana then, his expression remaining faultless.

“And Diana,” he added, voice mild, “I am certain my cousin will continue to find

something useful to do with her time rather than involve herself in matters that do not

concern her.”

The smile on Diana’s face held for half a second too long before it thinned.

It was done so elegantly that if someone repeated it later, it could be described as a

joke.

It was not a joke.

It was a warning.

Diana’s chin lifted a fraction, but she said nothing. Radimir looked at Lev for one long

beat, then laughed. The sound was measured, public, and just a touch too deliberate.

“Good,” Radimir said. “Confidence is useful.”

The room exhaled with him.

Tension didn’t disappear.

It only went underground.

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Radimir took a sip, then lowered his glass and looked across the room until his gaze

landed on Maxwell.

“Maxwell. Come.”

Maxwell gave me one side glance before moving. “With me.”

I followed at once.

It happened so naturally that I did not question it at first. Maxwell was a union alpha. He

had introduced me all evening as his daughter. Being brought along could simply be part

of that.

Still, as we crossed the floor, a strange unease tightened in my stomach.

Lev’s eyes found mine briefly as we approached. There was nothing in his face for the

but his gaze sharpened at the edges as if he, too, sensed the shift.

Maxwell stopped before Radimir and bowed his head. “Radimir.”

Radimir’s eyes moved to me.

“Is this the girl?”

Maxwell didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Something softened in Maxwell’s tone when he added, “I’ve been happy since I adopted

her.”

The words hit me unexpectedly hard.

Radimir hummed, studying me with that old, cutting attention that made me feel as if he

was reading not just my face but the roads behind me. Then he said, “I heard she was

cast out from an unregistered pack.”

His gaze flicked toward Maxwell. “Isn’t that reckless?”

A few people nearby went still.

The question was dressed as concern.

It was not concern.

It was classification.

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Maxwell stood easy, but there was iron in his voice when he answered. “I trust her. If not

for her assistance, and that of the Alpha of Nightwind, my pack would have fallen when

rogues pressed my borders. No one came to aid us except them. They helped us push

back and asked for nothing.”

He said it proudly.

Openly.

For all listening ears.

Something in my chest tightened again, gratitude, grief, shame, anger, all tangled

together. Because Maxwell spoke of a time before everything had been split apart.

Before betrayal had teeth. Before my child died inside me while lies were fed to a hall

full of wolves.

Radimir’s gaze sharpened.

“That means she has a mate,” he said, turning the question into statement. Then, looking

straight at Maxwell: “Where is he?”

The way he asked made my skin prickle.

He knew something.

Perhaps not everything.

But enough to ask in that exact way.

Maxwell’s jaw moved once. For the first time since stepping forward, he hesitated.

Marcel stepped in before the silence could settle.

“She was cast out as Luna by her mate,” he said quickly, almost too quickly, sliding into

the opening like a snake into warm stone.

I turned my head toward him.

So this was what he wanted, to control the narrative first. To frame me before anyone

else could. Rebecca stood behind him, rigid and silent now, eyes burning with hatred she

barely concealed. She looked like a woman one public humiliation away from madness.

Radimir looked at me. “What did she do?”

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The question struck like a slap.

A dozen answers rose in me at once.

I bled for a pack and they called it disobedience.

I defended a home and they called me threat.

I was accused and discarded because it was convenient.

I lost my child for a lie.

I opened my mouth.

Maxwell’s hand touched my arm, not harsh, but immediate. A warning.

I looked at him, and he gave the slightest shake of his head.

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