Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 259

259 A Friend In Blackbirth 3

Arya’s POVO

Tamara caught me watching and smirked.

“I told you,” she said.

Lev’s gaze shifted to me then, and for one charged second the garden went too quiet.

He looked at the simple green gown.

Then at my face.

Then back again.

His stare did not rush. It moved over me with that same dangerous patience he seemed to bring to everything, and heat slid slowly through my body before I could stop it. There was no vulgarity in the look. Nothing careless. That was what made it worse. He looked as though he was taking me in properly, letting the sight of me settle somewhere under his ribs where he intended to keep it.

My fingers tightened slightly around my cup.

Tamara made a delighted noise.

“Oh good,” she said. “You like this one too.”

Lev did not look away from me when he answered.

“Yes,” he said.

One word.

Quiet.

But there was enough in it to make my pulse turn traitor.

I lowered my eyes to the tea because suddenly I needed something to look at.

Tamara laughed softly, clearly enjoying herself far too much.

Lev finally sat beside us, though closer to her than to me, which was wise because if he had sat too close right then I might have lost the thread of whatever sense I had left. A servant appeared to pour him tea, then vanished again.

“You should have returned sooner,” Lev said to Tamara, though his eyes flicked once to me before returning to her. “You stayed away too long.”

Lev set his cup down carefully. “Tamara.”

She lifted her chin. “What? You think I’ll pretend? I won’t. He isn’t worthy, and everyone with eyes

knows it. The only reason people keep dressing it in nice words is because old men always protect

each other until a younger one makes it impossible.”

Lev looked at her for a long moment.

Then, to my surprise, his mouth curved slightly.

Not agreement. Not openly.

But not denial either.

“I’ve missed your diplomacy,” he said.

Tamara waved one hand. “You’re welcome.”

I laughed again, helpless this time.

Lev’s gaze cut to me quickly at the sound, and the expression on his face shifted in a way that made my chest tighten. He looked pleased. Not just because the moment was light. Because I was light in it.

Because I was laughing.

That realisation came with a strange ache.

James used to look at me that way once. Before. Before politics turned love into something that had to apologise for itself. Before silence. Before betrayal. Before I began learning the shape of what it

meant when a man decided your pain was an acceptable price.

I pushed the thought away hard enough to hurt.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify