Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 211

211 Flowers and Blades 2

Arya’s POVCO

Lev sat on the garden bench like it belonged to him, stretched one leg out, and patted

the space beside him.

“Come.”

I hesitated. Lev looked up at me then.

“Arya.”

Something in my chest shifted at the way he said my name, like it belonged in his mouth

too easily. I sat beside him carefully, keeping the flowers in my lap like a shield. Lev

leaned back a little and watched me with that slow way of his, that stare that always felt

like he was seeing more than I was saying.

“What?” I snapped.

He shrugged.

“You’re alive.”

I blinked.

“That’s a strange thing to say.”

“It’s not,” he said. “I left you here with too many enemies and too much grief.”

I looked away.

“I wasn’t alone.”

His eyes moved toward the house.

“Maxwell.”

I nodded once.

“He’s… good to me.”

Lev’s face changed slightly at that. Softer.

“I know.”

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Silence sat between us for a moment. The wind moved through the garden and stirred

the leaves and made the flowers shake in my hands. Then Lev’s hand came down on my

thigh, warm and steady, not grabbing, just there like an anchor. I tensed before I could

stop myself. He noticed. Of course he noticed. But he didn’t move his hand. He just

looked at me.

“You don’t have to brace with me,” he said.

I let out a quiet scoff.

“You’re the one who makes me feel like I should brace.”

A faint smile touched his mouth.

“Good.”

That annoyed me again.

“Why is that good?”

“Because it means you feel me,” he said.

I stared at him. He said things like that too easily. Like he wasn’t putting his hand

directly on the line between my strength and my weakness. I looked away and forced my

tone lighter because if I didn’t, I was either going to bite him or kiss him again.

“So,” I said, pointing the flowers at him a little, “what are you doing here really?”

Lev’s eyes stayed on my face.

“I told you.”

“That you’re coming back,” I said. “That is not an answer. You don’t just ‘come back’ to

Dragonclaw without fifty people trying to pull you into something.”

His jaw tightened just for a second. Then it eased again. He looked down at the flowers

in my lap.

“I came because I wanted to see you.”

My heart did another stupid thing. I hated it. I also… didn’t. Ria made this soft pleased

sound inside me like she had been starving for that exact sentence. Lev leaned closer

then, his voice lower now.

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“And because I can’t concentrate in Blackbirth when I know you’re here.”

I swallowed.

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“Flattery,” I muttered.

“Truth.”

I glanced at him.

“And if I believe you?”

His thumb moved slowly against my thigh, just enough to make my skin wake up.

“Then you stop making it harder than it needs to be.”

I scoffed.

“You keep saying that.

“I’ll keep saying it until you listen.”

I shook my head, but my mouth was close to smiling. We stayed like that for a while

after, just sitting in the garden like normal people, which almost felt stranger than the

kissing. Lev asked about the women’s centre, and I told him about the blankets and the

sewing kits and the quilt plan. He listened like he actually cared, not like it was some

little female hobby meant to pass time. He even asked questions. Practical questions.

How many households. How quickly the quilt work was moving. Whether widows’ row

had enough stuffing. Which stores were running low.

That softened something in me again.

He cared.

In his own way. Quietly. Without performance.

At one point he leaned in and kissed my temple like it was nothing, like he had every

right, and my whole body went warm. I pretended not to notice. He knew I noticed

anyway. He teased me for sharpening blades in a garden. I teased him for bringing

flowers like some man out of a romance book.

“I’m not some romance novel man,” he said.

I looked at him.

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“You carried me out of a tea room and told a bunch of women I was yours for the

evening.”

He shrugged like that proved nothing.

“That was necessary.”

“For what?”

“To remind you you’re allowed to be wanted.”

I stared at him again. He always did that. Slid one sentence under the teasing that was

not just teasing at all. A quiet blade straight into a place that still hadn’t healed. I looked

away because my throat had tightened again and I hated that he could do that to me so

easily.

“You talk too much.”

Lev’s mouth curved.

“You like it.”

I glared.

“I don’t.”

He leaned in and kissed me again. Longer this time. Deeper. My hand went to his jaw

without me meaning it to, fingers sliding into the short hair near his ear, holding him

there. I felt his breath shift. Felt his hand tighten at my waist. And for one second the kiss

changed. Darker. Less gentle. More claiming. Heat went through me fast and sharp, and I

almost forgot where we were. Then he broke it first, like he always seemed able to do,

and rested his forehead against mine again.

“Breathe.”

His voice was rougher now. I hated that he could say one word and my body would obey

1. But it did. I breathed. He watched me do it, eyes heavy, then brushed his mouth over

mine one more time, softer now, like he was reminding me he could be both.

When we finally stood and went inside, my hands still smelled like metal and flowers.

That felt stupidly symbolic. Like my life had turned into this mix of softness and violence

and I still didn’t know which one was going to win.

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