Page 93 of The Onyx Covenant

I reach for her hand, finding it cooler to the touch.

“Theron,” Kieran says quietly. “I don’t think we can stop this.”

I grip Lyra’s hand tighter, watching helplessly as her eyelids flutter, revealing just the whites of her eyes.

“I can’t lose her,” I say, my voice breaking. “Not like this.”

ChapterSeventeen

LYRA

Istand in a vast, empty space filled with silver mist. There’s no ground beneath my feet, no sky above, just an endless swirling fog that glows with the gentle radiance of moonlight. I don’t remember how I got here or where here even is. The last thing I recall is falling asleep in the maze clearing with Theron keeping watch.

The mist before me begins to gather and condense, forming a figure of pure light. Its shape is never constant, flowing and shifting. The glow it emanates matches exactly the intense silver-blue light that adorns the sacred walls in the inner sanctum of the moon priestess temple. The light pulses like a heartbeat, sending waves of energy rippling through the mist around me.

This can only be one being—the Elios Moon God, the ancient deity our pack has worshipped since the First Pack split. I’ve seen the carved images in the sacred chambers where only high priestesses are allowed, chambers I snuck into as a child, hungry for knowledge forbidden to me.

“You have to give in to him,” a voice resonates, not through my ears but directly into my mind. “Help Theron win.”

My shoulders pull back instinctively, rejection immediate. “What? But then our pack—my pack—the Elios will lose again.” The words taste like ash on my tongue. “Is that what you want? For Umbra to dominate us once more?” I’m starting to wonder if this is some trickery by the Umbra moon.

The light shifts, patterns changing, almost like expressions crossing a face. “Your distrust, your indecision, is what is blocking you and will continue to do so. You will be stuck in this maze for eternity until you choose.”

“Choose what?” I demand, feeling a surge of anger. “To betray my people? To submit to Umbra rule?”

“Trust him. Help him win.” The figure’s light dims slightly, then flares brighter. “The path forward requires blood and trust. Old divisions must fall for new growth to emerge.”

I shake my head, feeling the weight of generations of conflict pressing down on me.

“You don’t understand. It’s not that simple. If Umbra wins?—”

“If Theron wins,” the figure corrects, and somehow, I know the distinction is crucial.

The luminous being pulses. “Your path lies not in the outcomes you fear but in the unity you have forgotten. Five rights. That is your path.”

“Five rights?” I repeat, confusion momentarily displacing my internal turmoil. “What does that mean?”

The being doesn’t answer.

“Why should I trust him?” I challenge, thinking of how Theron broke my heart, how he chose his pack over me once before. So, he could do it again, right? Yet the thought alone aches deep under my rib cage. “He’s Umbra. His father wants me dead.”

“Heis not his father,” the light pulses more intensely. “And you are more than your pack designation.”

I feel myself beginning to spiral into deeper confusion. “But my people?—”

“Will suffer if the division continues,” the being interrupts. “As will his. As will all.”

The images shift again, showing me glimpses of a future I don’t want to see—bodies strewn across contested territories, children crying, blood soaking into soil that yields no harvest.

“This is what awaits if the old hatreds persist.” The voice grows somber. “This is what your indecision feeds.”

“That’s not fair,” I protest, feeling tears burn behind my eyes. “This isn’t my responsibility alone.”

“No,” the being agrees. “But your choice now will determine if change becomes possible. Your destiny is within your grasp, Lyra Mooncrest. Not as an Elios victory or an Umbra defeat, but as something new entirely.”

I close my eyes, trying to center myself amid the chaos of emotions. My loyalty to my pack wars with my feelings for Theron, with my own ambitions, and with the weight of expectations I’ve carried my entire life.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit, voice cracking. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

---