Page 108 of The Onyx Covenant

The words sting, but I don’t falter.

“I knew you killed her,” I roar.

My father’s smile is a terrible thing, devoid of anything human. “Might as well have. By the time I was finished with her, there wasn’t much left.”

Something snaps in me—the last thread of restraint, the final barrier between man and beast. With a growl that doesn’t sound human, I lunge forward, feinting left before driving my blade upward, under his ribs, angled toward his heart.

My father’s eyes widen in shock, then narrow in hatred. “You’ll never be—” he begins, but I twist the blade deeper, silencing him.

“You fucking bastard,” I snarl, driving the blade deeper still, feeling warm blood coat my hand. “You goddamn fucking monster. You’re nothing. NOTHING.”

I pull the blade free, then plunge it in again and again, each strike punctuated by another curse, another roar of pain, rage, and grief.

Finally, I step back, chest heaving with exertion. My father collapses to the ground, blood pooling beneath him, his eyes already growing dim.

“You were… never… worthy…” he manages to whisper, blood bubbling at his lips. Then he’s gone, his final breath escaping in a last, hateful sigh.

I stand frozen for one heartbeat, two, the reality of what I’ve done washing over me like ice water. I killed my father. The High Alpha. My own blood.

But as my gaze shifts to Lyra, slumped against the wall, blood seeping through her fingers as she presses against her wounds, regret vanishes like morning mist. I cross to her in three strides, gathering her gently into my arms.

“Lyra,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Movement at the shattered doorway makes me tense, ready to fight again, but it’s only Tarek and Melian, the senior Covenant members. They take in the scene—the dead Alpha, the wounded Omega, the blood-soaked son.

I straighten, Lyra cradled against my chest. “I have nothing to hide,” I say, voice steady despite the storm of emotions within. “He deserved to die a long time ago.”

To my surprise, both elders nod solemnly.

“We have nothing to add here,” Tarek says, his usually stern face softened with what might be relief. “You did what you deemed fit, as you are now the Onyx Covenant.”

“We’ve served the Umbra for decades,” Melian adds, her eyes lingering on the fallen Alpha. “But not all service comes with pride. Some come with shame that we could not act sooner.”

“You knew?” I ask, disbelief coloring my words. “You knew what he was doing, what he was capable of?”

“We suspected,” Tarek admits. “But our hands were tied without proof.”

My jaw tightens. “I will find the evidence. I will expose every cruelty, every horrible thing he’s done to destroy our packs.” I glance between them, suspicion creeping in. “You had access to the Covenant records. You must have seen something.”

“Perhaps we didn’t know where to look,” Melian says carefully. “Or perhaps we were too afraid to see what was in front of us.”

“Cowards,” I bark, feeling Lyra stir against my chest. “I’m going to care for my Omega, my partner, my mate. Then we are moving into the Covenant building, and you are both moving out immediately.”

I step past them without waiting for a response, carrying Lyra through the shattered doorway and into the cool night air. The sounds of the celebration seem distant now, belonging to another world.

“Thank you,” Lyra whispers against my neck, her voice weak but steady. “I thought I was going to die. He just… ambushed me.”

I tighten my hold on her, careful to avoid her wounds. “It’s all right,” I murmur into her hair. “Nothing is ever going to harm you again. I swear it on my life.”

She nestles closer, despite her injuries. “With us now overseeing both packs,” she says, a hint of wonder in her voice, “nothing will ever be the same again.”

“In the best possible way,” I agree, pausing to look down at her. Despite the blood, despite the bruises forming on her beautiful face, her eyes still burn with the same fire that first captivated me. The same determination that kept her fighting in that maze, that kept her standing up to my father until the very end.

She wraps her arms around my neck and leans up, pressing her lips to mine. I lose myself in the kiss, in the miracle of her—alive, here, mine. My heart breaks anew at the sight of her injuries, but the breaking makes room for something else to grow. Something fiercer, more protective, more devoted than anything I’ve felt before.

When we finally part, I whisper against her lips, “I have loved you for a long time, Lyra. Longer than I even understood. And I love you more deeply with each passing day.”

A smile breaks through her pain, radiant even now. “And I love you so much,” she whispers back. “Through every battle, every trial. Beyond every ending, into every new beginning.”

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