Luna Forsaken (Arya and James) novel Chapter 264

264 The Cost of Walking Away

Lev’s POV

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By the time the dinner began thinning out and the smiles started looking forced instead of useful, I had already made my decision. We were not spending the night in Briarwood. Robert tried to be smooth about it when he approached me near the main hall, all polished courtesy and careful wording, telling me the Countess had rooms prepared and that it would be an honour for Blackbirth to remain as guests after such an important evening. Alpha Theodore joined him soon after with that same tight smile he had worn all night, the kind men wore when they were still bleeding from humiliation but wanted the room to think they had grace. He spoke about family ties, long roads at night, and how unnecessary it would be for us to leave so late when Briarwood had more than enough space to host us properly. On another night, under calmer circumstances, I might have entertained it for form alone Tonight, I did not even consider it. I had just rejected Mary openly. Not privately. Not vaguely. Openly. She was the Countess’s goddaughter, and even though Vanessa Valemonte had handled it with more dignity than the rest of them, she had still refused to see Arya and only allowed me into her chambers. That told me enough. Staying in Briarwood with Arya under that roof, after that, would not be taken as simple hospitality. It would be seen as a statement. A challenge. An insult, perhaps even a triumph. And I had no interest in pushing a proud old house into open offence when I had already gotten what I came for. Worse, I did not trust the mood of the estate anymore. Too many injured egos. Too many listening ears. Too many people who would smile in a corridor and send trouble after a car once the gates closed behind it. Leaving with Arya was the cleanest option. Leaving with Arya was the safest option. So that was what I chose.

“We appreciate the offer, Robert,” I said. “But we’ll be returning tonight.”

Robert’s expression shifted only slightly. He was well-trained. “My lord, the Countess was generous enough to prepare for your comfort.”

“And I’m grateful for that,” I said. “Still, we’ll go.”

Alpha Theodore clasped his hands behind his back, studying me too carefully. “Surely this is unnecessary, Lord Lev. The roads are long.”

“I know the roads,” I said.

His smile thinned. “Mary is upset.”

“That sounds like a matter for her family,” I replied.

He did not like that. I could smell it. The sharpness behind the expensive cologne and the forced civility. But he was in Briarwood, not Blackbirth, and he knew better than to make a bigger scene after his daughter had already taken enough embarrassment for one night. Robert tried again, softer this time, talking about the Countess’s intentions and how it would help settle appearances if we

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remained. That only confirmed my choice. Appearances were exactly what I had no interest in setting,

under Vanessa’s roof. Not with Arya at my side. I had protected her all evening, but I had also watched

the rooms of Briarwood weigh her, test her, and search for places to wound. She gave better than she

got and looked beautiful doing it, but that did not mean I would leave her sleeping in a house full of

bruised pride simply because old wolves preferred to pretend all was still graceful. No. We would leave

while my decision was still mine.

“We’re leaving,” I said, this time in the tone men heard when they were out of chances.

Robert bowed.

Theodore looked like he wanted to say more.

He didn’t.

Good.

When I went to find Arya and Tamara, they were near one of the side lounges where the last of the women’s gathering had broken into smaller groups. Tamara was still bright from, battle, eyes glittering with leftover amusement. Arya looked calmer on the surface, but I knew better now. I knew when she was holding herself a little too steady. I knew when she had spent the evening fighting with grace and had no patience left for fake softness.

“We’re going,” I told them.

Tamara straightened. “Tonight?”

“Yes.”

She glanced around the Briarwood hall and sniffed. “Good. I’m tired of these carpets already.”

Arya’s eyes stayed on mine for a beat longer. She read the rest of it without me needing to explain. I saw the understanding settle in her face. Not fear. Not even surprise. Just that quiet acceptance she had when she knew a room had turned less safe than it looked.

“All right,” she said.

We left soon after. No drawn-out farewells. No lingering. No chance for Theodore to attempt another private word or for Mary to create a fresh spectacle in the corridor. The air outside Briarwood was colder than I expected, sharp against the heat of the halls we had just left. The estate lights stretched across the stone and gravel in pale gold. Cars waited at the front. Security moved with quiet efficiency. Arya’s cream dress caught the light when she stepped down beside me, and for one dangerous second my mind went back to the room at Blackbirth, to my mouth at her neck, to the way she had looked when I promised she would think of me all through the night. I had meant it as a tease. Looking at her then, I realised it had become a curse for me too. Because I had thought of little else since.

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Tamara slid into the car first with the complete confidence of a woman who believed every space

should adapt to her. Arya followed, and I got in beside her. Milo took the wheel. Another vehicle moved

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