Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 221

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Lev’s POV

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Radimir stared at me like I had said something absurd. Like I was speaking nonsense.

Like “I’m already taken” was some childish line and not the plain truth. For a few

seconds he did not move at all. He just sat there behind the desk, still red from the last

part of our conversation, still trying to decide what shape to take next. Whether to laugh

it off and act like I had embarrassed myself, or whether to push harder and try to drag

me back under his thumb.

Then his mouth twisted, and he picked anger.

“Taken,” he repeated. Slow. Sharp. “You’re throwing away Briarwood, wealth, armies,

and a clean succession for a rejected woman.”

The word rejected came out like spit.

I did not flinch.

Radimir leaned forward, eyes hot now.

“A woman who isn’t even qualified to warm your bed.”

That one landed.

Not loud.

Not dramatic.

Just a hard click somewhere deep in my chest.

Something cold settled there.

I had tolerated a lot from Radimir over the years. His mouth. His lectures. His little jabs dressed up as guidance. His long speeches about duty and blood and what Blackbirth needed from me. I had taken it because when my parents died, he had held the seat. Because I had been too young. Because the house needed stability while wolves watched to see if the bloodline would crack.

But Arya was not something I was going to tolerate from his mouth.

Not now.

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Not anymore.

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Radimir kept talking because he thought he still had control of the room.

“How can you stoop so low?” he asked. “Do you hear yourself? You sound like a man

with no sense of his rank.”

I stayed calm.

Mostly because calm was the only thing keeping me from putting my fist through the

desk.

Radimir shifted in my chair again like it belonged under him.

“And I was angry,” he went on, “that Maxwell would adopt a stray and bring it into my

house.”

Stray again.

I smiled a little.

Not because anything was funny.

Because he still did not understand what he was doing. He still thought those words weakened her. He still thought they would shame me. All they really did was show me

exactly who he was when he forgot to hide it.

His voice got colder after that. More poisonous.

“If it weren’t for the fact that you’re fond of Maxwell, and that Maxwell is part of the

Union, I would have had him penalised for it.”

That was meant to impress me.

It didn’t.

It sounded tired. Like the same old threat dragged out again. A regent puffing himself up and pretending the Union was his creature to command instead of something built under

Blackbirth’s shadow. He was not done.

“I even heard,” he said, “that your little stray insulted Mary in the tea room.”

The way he said your was deliberate. I heard that. He wanted to remind me that Arya was not mine to claim. Wanted to make it sound shameful that I already had.

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Then he leaned back, lips curling like he had fin

“And Mary,” he added, voice fake soft now

the Countess had Diana not consoled her.

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“would have gone to report the treatment to

So that was the story already moving around the house.

Mary, the delicate offended woman.

Diana, the calm peacemaker.

Arya, the rude rogue who did not know her place.

Neat. Convenient. Clean enough to repeat at dinner and over tea until it hardened into

truth for people who liked easy stories. It all fed the same picture. Lev is distracted by a

woman beneath him. That woman is already embarrassing Blackbirth.

1 let out a low chuckle.

Radimir’s eyes narrowed at once.

“Do you find that amusing?”

I shrugged lightly.

“If Mary didn’t go looking for Arya’s trouble, she wouldn’t have gotten it.”

That hit him harder than I expected. He stiffened like I had struck him. He hated that kind

of answer. Hated when I refused to treat his chosen women like fragile glass. Hated

when I refused to play the old game where women’s politics were meant to be

dismissed in public and weaponised in private.

He leaned forward again.

“Mary is a lady of Briarwood,” he snapped. “A future countess. A future,”

“A future what?” I cut in. “Future wife of someone else?”

That turned his face red again.

“You’re being reckless.”

“No,” I said. “I’m being clear.”

His mouth opened. Closed. Then he reached for another weapon.

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“You’re letting lust ruin you,” he

voice thick with disgust.

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I did not answer right away.

Because if I did, I would have said too much. Something too true. Something he did not

deserve to hear.

It was not lust.

not

Or not only that.

Yes, Arya got under my skin in ways that made my wolf restless. Yes, my body reacted

to her like something starved finally getting fed. Yes, I wanted her in ways I had no

interest in speaking about with an old man who treated women like roads to power.

But that was not all it was.

What kept pulling me to her was that she was still standing.

After James.

After the cell.

After the mark.

After the lies.

After losing her child beneath the weight of what other people did to her.

She was still standing.

Still sharp.

Still dangerous.

Still able to look the world in the face and refuse to bend cleanly.

That kind of woman does not come twice in one life.

Radimir did not deserve that truth.

So I did not give it to him.

I stood up properly then. Slow. Controlled. No rush. No wasted movement. Then I stepped closer to the desk until he had no choice but to look up at me.

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