Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 240

240 No Protection 3

Arya’s POVO

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Lev might not have said it out loud for that reason, but I heard it anyway. I heard it in the punishment. In the stripping away of protection. In the tribunal. In the suspension. In that warning that the Union would not come running to save men who chose exploitation and violence and then hid behind procedure when it was time to pay for it. No Union shield. No promise of retaliation on his behalf. No certainty that anyone would rush to defend him if the pressure came from somewhere else.

My heartbeat picked up.

Not from fear. From possibility.

Because whether Lev meant to give me that opening or not, he had just done it. He had just handed

me the perfect chance to make Marcel pay without consequence.

I looked at Marcel and something dark moved inside me. Something that should have scared me maybe, but it didn’t. It felt good. Too good. If I went after him now, if I chose to torment him, to pressure him, to unsettle him, to pull at every weak thread he had hidden under power and status, no one would punish me for it. No tribunal would be called for my sake. No Union rescue would ride in to

shield him. And most of all, no one would come and save him.

That thought landed inside me like fire dropped on dry leaves.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t smile.

I did not let even a shadow of it show on my face.

But inside, something had started.

Something hard.

Something dangerous.

Because Marcel did not only deserve embarrassment, He deserved fear. He deserved sleepless nights. He deserved to start looking over his shoulder and wondering which one of his sins had finally grown teeth. He deserved the same kind of pressure he used to put on other people while smiling like it was nothing.

And I found myself wondering if he had enemies.

Of course he had enemies.

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A man like Marcel could not move through life taking and cornering and humiliating people without

leaving hate behind him. Men like him always thought power erased what they did. It didn’t. It only

buried it for a while.

I wanted to know who they were.

I wanted to know how they would feel hearing this.

How many of them had swallowed rage because Marcel wore Union favour like armour. Because he

walked around protected by Radmir’s name and position like that made him untouchable. How many

of them would hear this and smell blood in the water. How many of them were already becoming dangerous possibilities simply because Lev had taken the shield off him and left him standing there

exposed.

That thought made my pulse pound harder.

And under that dark satisfaction was something else.

Something warmer.

Something that hurt in a completely different way.

Because I knew.

I knew Lev had done this for justice. For order. For the Union. For Blackbirth. For Dragonclaw. For the

wolves who had been attacked and used and treated like they were worth less than politics.

But I also knew he had done it for me.

He had made my enemies his enemies.

That was what this was.

He sat in that hall and listened to what they did to me. He watched Marcel lie. Watched him posture.

Watched him twist everything and try to make it sound smaller than it was. Try to reduce pain to

technicalities and influence and old power. And Lev did not just correct him. He did not just shame

him.

He chose my side.

He made Marcel vulnerable.

He took the shield from the man who helped destroy my life and left him standing under open sky.

My throat tightened.

I looked at Lev.

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Mimu

He was still facing the room. Still composed. Still carrying that cold authority like it cost him nothing. To anyone else maybe he looked untouched. Entirely political. Entirely practical. Just a powerful Alpha

delivering punishment and moving on.

But I knew better now.

Or maybe I was only just starting to.

Because that man did not separate me from the rest of his decisions the way other men did. The way James did. He did not tuck me away in some private corner and act like public matters had nothing to do with me. He pulled me into the centre of them. He stood me beside him. He named me in front of them. He drew lines around me and dared anyone to cross them.

And now this.

Maybe he would never say out loud that part of his anger tonight belonged to me.

Maybe he did not need to.

I felt it anyway.

Something warm spread through my chest right beside that darker thrill of vengeance. Gratitude, yes. But not only gratitude. Something more frightening than that. Something softer. Deeper. More dangerous because revenge did not leave me this exposed.

I was grateful.

God, I was.

But that was not all.

Because a man standing beside you in your pain was one thing.

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