Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 176

176 Only One Woman

Arya’s POVO

“For as long as it takes.”

The words left my mouth hard, stubborn, defensive.

A shield.

A warning.

A lie, maybe.

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Because the moment I said them, Lev looked at me like he could hear everything I had

not said, the fear beneath it, the hope I hated, the crack in me that had widened the

second he followed me into this room and refused to let Radimir’s announcement stand

between us.

His hand was still around my wrist.

Warm. Firm. Unhurried.

He did not yank me back.

He did not crowd me with force.

He simply held on like he had decided the conversation was not over, and the frightening

part was that my body responded to that certainty before my pride could.

My pulse kicked against my skin.

I tried to pull free.

He tightened his grip just enough to stop me.

“Arya.”

I shut my eyes for one beat, anger and ache tangling in my chest. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that thing where you say my name like it means I’m supposed to forget how

this world works.”

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A quiet breath left him, almost a laugh, but too dark for amusement.

When I turned, he was closer.

How he did that so silently, I still didn’t know. One second there was space, the next

there was Lev, heat and shadow and impossible restraint, standing in front of me like the

room had narrowed around him on purpose.

“I’m not asking you to forget anything,” he said. “I’m asking you to stop using fear as if

it’s wisdom.”

The words landed sharp enough to sting.

My chin lifted on instinct. “And what would you call it? Experience?”

His gaze dropped briefly to the cancelled mark at my throat, then rose back to my eyes.

The look in them changed, not softer, exactly. Worse than soft. Intimate.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I’d call it that.”

That should have ended the argument.

It didn’t.

Because hurt makes me mean when cornered, and right now I was cornered by the one

thing I wanted most and trusted least.

“So what?” I snapped. “You want me to smile while Radimir parades brides at your side?

You want me to pretend this”, I gestured between us with my free hand, breath shaking,

“is enough while men like him decide what your life looks like?”

His jaw tightened.

“No.”

“Then what do you want from me, Lev?” I demanded, voice cracking despite me. “Blind

faith? Patience? Another woman’s silence while powerful men sort themselves out?”

Something dark flashed across his face.

He moved in so fast this time that I forgot to breathe.

One hand braced beside my head, the other sliding from my wrist to my waist in one

controlled, claiming motion, and suddenly I was back against the wall, not slammed, not

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hurt, just held there by presence and heat and a force of will that made my skin come alive.

“Look at me,” he said.

I was already looking.

I had no choice. Not with him this close. Not with his scent wrapping around me, cool night air, expensive soap, male heat, steel. Not with Ria shoving against my ribs like she was trying to climb out and go to him herself.

He is not letting you go, she said, fierce and almost smug.

That is the problem, I shot back, but even in my own head the protest lacked teeth.

Lev’s fingers flexed lightly at my waist, grounding me, not restraining harder.

“What I want,” he said, voice low and deliberate, “is for you to stop talking like you are an inconvenience I need to manage.”

I stared at him.

He leaned closer, forehead nearly touching mine again, and his next words burned straight through my defenses.

“There is only one woman for me.”

My heart stumbled.

The room went so still I could hear my own breathing.

His eyes held mine, unblinking, merciless in their honesty.

“The day I saw you at James’s wedding,” he said, “I knew.”

A sharp, disbelieving laugh almost escaped me. “You knew what? That I was broken

enough to be easy to claim?”

His hand at my waist tightened, not painfully, but with enough force to make the rebuke feel physical.

“No.” The word came flat and dangerous. “I knew you were mine.”

Everything in me went hot and cold at once.

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He didn’t flinch from the brutality of the statement. Didn’t soften it for my comfort. Didn’t dress it up in romance and gentleness so I could accept it more easily.

He said it like a vow.

Like a fact.

Like a man who understood exactly how impossible it sounded and meant it anyway.

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