Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 210

210 Flowers and Blades

Arya’s POVO

I was in the garden sharpening one of my new personal blades when his scent hit me.

Lev.

It wasn’t subtle. It didn’t creep in gently. It just slid into the air like the garden already

belonged to him and everything else had to adjust around that. My hand stopped

halfway through the stroke. The blade made that soft rough sound against the

whetstone and then nothing. Silence.

My heart did this stupid little jump like I was some girl waiting for a boy at the gate. Like

I hadn’t been through hell. Like I hadn’t held blood in my hands and watched a pack fall

apart and dragged myself back to standing. Ria pushed forward inside me so hard I

almost cursed.

Him.

“Don’t,” I muttered under my breath, like she could be embarrassed into calming down.

She wasn’t.

Our mate.

I swallowed. I hadn’t realised how much I missed him until that exact second. That was

the humiliating part. I had been fine. Busy. Focused. Keeping my mind on work and

revenge and the packs moving in the dark and Maxwell’s safety and the women’s centre

and stitching kits and blankets and all the small normal things that kept people alive.

But the second his scent touched me, it was like my body remembered a warmth it had

been denied for too long.

I turned slowly.

And there he was.

Lev stood at the edge of the garden path like he had always been there and I had simply

failed to notice him. He was dressed in dark clothes like usual. Nothing loud. Nothing

flashy. Just clean and fitted and expensive in the way power always was. His hair looked

slightly messed up, like he had been in a car too long or dragged a hand through it once

and never cared enough to fix it. His face looked sharper than I remembered and

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somehow softer too, because his eyes weren’t cold right now.

He had flowers in his hands.

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Actual flowers.

Not some big arranged thing servants put together to impress a room. Not something

formal with ribbons and meaning hanging off it. They looked simple. Wildflowers mixed

with a few richer stems, like he had picked some and bought some and decided that was

enough.

I just stared.

Lev’s mouth curved the tiniest bit. Not a full smile. Just the beginning of one.

“I can see you miss me already.”

Heat rushed straight up my neck. I tried not to blush. I failed. My body was a traitor. My

wolf was worse. I lifted my chin and gripped the blade a little tighter than I needed to.

“You’re arrogant.”

He walked closer, slow and unhurried, his eyes flicking once to the knife in my hand and

then back to my face, amusement deepening.

“True.”

Then he stopped right in front of me. The flowers stayed between us for one second.

Then he leaned in and kissed me.

No warning.

No build up.

Just his mouth on mine like he had already decided he was done being away.

My body reacted so fast it made me angry. I made this small sound I did not mean to

make, and my fingers curled into the front of his shirt like I needed something solid to

hold onto. His kiss wasn’t sweet. Not fully. It wasn’t rough either. It was sure. Controlled.

Like he knew exactly how much heat to give me without pushing me into panic. And still

my knees softened. Still Ria practically purred herself sick.

Finally.

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His hand went to my jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth like he could feel

every reaction. Then his other hand slid around my waist and pulled me closer. Too

close. My blade hand lowered without me meaning it to. The whetstone dropped from

my lap into the grass with a soft thud. I should have stopped him. I didn’t. Not quickly

enough.

We only broke apart because he let us.

Lev stayed close, his forehead resting lightly against mine for a beat like he was

grounding himself too. His breath was warm. Mine wasn’t steady. He looked at me, and

his eyes were dark with something that made my stomach twist.

“What.” I said, trying to sound like I wasn’t breathless, “are you doing here?”

His gaze flicked down to my lips again. That tiny dangerous pause.

“Coming back,” he said simply.

It shouldn’t have been enough.

It was.

I stepped back half an inch because if I didn’t, I was going to lean in again and forget

every rule I had built around my own heart. He let me. But he didn’t move away either.

He stayed right there, his scent all around me like a claim.

Then he looked down at the blade in my hand and raised one brow.

“You were sharpening this?”

I looked down too, like I had forgotten I was still holding it.

“Yes.”

Lev’s mouth curved more this time.

“Most women are learning needlework or drinking tea. And here you are sharpening blades in a garden.”

That should have annoyed me. Instead I let out this short laugh that sounded more like

me than I had sounded in days.

“Needlework is not the only skill a woman needs.”

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“I see that,” he murmured, lifting his eyes back to mine. “Clearly.”

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He put the flowers into my free hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, like

he had done it a hundred times already and I had just missed those moments somehow.

I stared at the flowers. Then at him.

“You brought me flowers.”

He gave the smallest shrug.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He looked like he was deciding whether to tease me again, then changed his mind.

“Because you’ve had enough blood in your life,” he said. “And because I wanted you to

have something soft in your hands for once.”

My throat tightened so suddenly it annoyed me. I didn’t answer. I just stood there

holding the flowers like they were dangerous. Ria had gone quiet too, which almost

never happened.

Lev glanced around the garden and then back at me.

“Are you going to stab someone with that,” he said, nodding at my blade, “or are you

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