Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 233

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Arya’s POVO

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Radimir’s eyes shifted to Lev, and something hard passed through them. Annoyance.

Maybe more than annoyance. There had always been something complicated in the way

that man looked at me. Not desire exactly. Not plainly. But interest tied to politics, to

possibility, to what I might mean in the wrong hands or the right ones.

He did not like being checked.

He liked being the one who decided what things meant.

Still, whatever he was tempted to say, he swallowed it.

That alone told me enough.

His expression cooled. “I see.”

Did he?

I doubted it.

But he moved on, and I almost smiled.

Then Marcel arrived.

That wiped the faint satisfaction right off me.

Even from across the room, the sight of him made something old and ugly stir under my

skin. Rage. Memory. Revulsion. That man had the polished face of a snake that had

learned to wear silk. He walked in like he belonged among these people. Like the rot he

carried inside him did not stink up every room he entered.

His eyes found me fast.

Of course they did.

I saw the brief flash of surprise there, then dislike, then that thin little superiority men

like him always wore when they thought a woman’s suffering had reduced her

permanently.

I held his gaze.

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I did not look away.

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Something in his mouth tightened before he finally turned and took his seat.

Good.

Let him be uncomfortable.

m se

Once everyone was seated, the meeting began.

Lev took control of the room with clean efficiency. No grand speech. No dramatic clearing

of the throat. He simply started, and the room followed him. I sat beside him and kept

my face calm, though every now and then I was still aware of the fact that I was really

here. Really sitting in this hall, beside this man, as equals in the eyes of the room

whether they liked it or not.

The first order discussed was Briarwood.

Lev addressed the upcoming dinner and made it mandatory for all Silverclaw Union

members to attend in honour of Countess Vanessa Valemonte.

There were murmurs, of course, but agreeable ones. Formal ones. Countess Vanessa

carried enough weight that no one in that room could easily dismiss such an event, not

publicly.

One by one, they agreed.

I stayed quiet.

Part of me still felt uneasy about Briarwood. About Mary. About the games such a house

could play. About the shadows under all that polished wealth. But none of that showed

on my face.

Once that matter was concluded, the room shifted.

The real reason for the meeting settled over everyone.

David was the first to speak.

He sat straighter, all traces of earlier teasing gone now. His voice when he spoke was composed, confident, and far more Alpha than boy. There was something in me that felt proud of him in that moment. He really was stepping into bigger shoes now, and though they were probably still a little too large, he was carrying them well.

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“Dragonclaw,” he said, “has absorbed Nightwind.”

The room changed immediately.

Murmurs broke out at once. Chairs shifted. Eyes sharpened. Even men who had looked

half-bored a moment ago were suddenly very awake.

David continued without rushing.

“As such, Dragonclaw is now the sole owner of the Nightwind pack, and Nightwind is

now under the protection of the Union through Dragonclaw.”

That landed like a blow.

The murmurs grew louder.

I did not look at Marcel immediately, but I could feel his shock from where I sat. It was

almost satisfying enough to make me smile.

Almost.

Before Lev could speak, Marcel leaned forward sharply.

“That cannot be right,” he said.

His voice had already lost some of its polish.

David turned his head slowly toward him.

Marcel went on, “James said nothing to me of this, and I would know of such a decision.

My daughter is the current Luna of Nightwind.”

A bitter taste rose in my mouth at the word Luna, but I kept my face empty.

Marcel continued, louder now, “If any pack were to absorb Nightwind, it should be

Silverfang.”

David chuckled.

Actually chuckled.

It was such a small, disrespectful sound, and yet it was one of the most satisfying things

I had heard all evening.

Without hurrying, he drew out a document and slid it forward.

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“Fortunately,” he said, “James’s signed consent matters more than your assumptions.”

The room went still enough for paper to sound loud.

Lev took the document, reviewed it, and his expression did not change at all.

“It is authentic,” he said.

Marcel’s face darkened.

For a second I almost enjoyed the sight too much.

Then Marcel made the mistake of turning that anger outward.

“You are being biased,” he said to Lev.

The room stilled again.

Everyone heard it.

Everyone knew he had crossed into dangerous ground.

Lev did not raise his voice.

That was what made it worse.

He simply looked at Marcel with that cold, dark stillness of his and said, “Watch your

tone.”

Marcel opened his mouth.

Lev did not let him continue.

“And watch your language when you speak to your betters.”

The words sliced clean through the room.

Even I felt my pulse jump.

Marcel’s face changed colour.

Lev went on, voice even, gaze unflinching. “Blackbirth owns the lands all of you stand on.

If respect for rank fails you again, you will be welcome to test how comfortable life is on

Briarwood territory instead.”

Silence.

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Complete silence.

No one moved.

No one murmured.

No one was stupid enough.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to smile.

Because God.

That man.

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Marcel looked like he had swallowed something poisonous. His eyes flicked instinctively

toward Radimir, clearly hoping for help, for correction, for some older authority to rein

Lev in or soften the humiliation.

Radimir cleared his throat.

There it was.

The save attempt.

“Maxwell should have informed the Union before making such a decision,” he said.

Not openly siding with Marcel, not exactly. But close enough. A way to regain balance. A

way to remind the room that procedures existed and older men still expected deference.

Lev turned his head toward him.

“There is no stated law,” he said, “requiring Union members to seek permission before

absorbing a pack or taking over land.”

Just like that.

No hesitation. No uncertainty. No room left to wriggle.

Radimir’s mouth closed.

That shut him up too.

I looked down for a second because the satisfaction on my face would have been too obvious otherwise. The entire thing was almost absurd in how neatly it was unfolding.

Men who had spent so much time imagining themselves the ones who moved other lives

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around were now sitting there being checked with their

own rules.

For one dangerous second, amusement got the better of me.