Page 105 of The Onyx Covenant

As if responding to his proclamation, the lead warrior in my father’s pack steps forward, dropping to one knee before us in a sign of fealty. The others follow, their shadowy forms bowing in unison.

A cheer rises from the Elios side of the gathering, led by my father, who steps forward, arms raised high. “The Elios pack stands with the new Covenant!” he shouts. “Let this mark the beginning of true peace!”

Half the crowd joins the cheer, while the rest—primarily Umbra—remain silent, their disapproval obvious despite the Warriors’ intimidating presence.

Theron turns to me, his eyes reflecting the torchlight. “There’s no escaping me now, little moon,” he whispers, his voice too low for others to hear. “Not that I’d ever let you run. You’re bound to me by forces older than these stones—and I to you, forever.”

My heart stutters at his words, heat rising to my face despite the gravity of the moment. Before I can respond, we’re pulled apart as my father approaches, embracing me tightly.

“I’m so proud,” he murmurs against my hair. “So very proud.”

As congratulations swirl around us, we’re separated by well-wishers—Theron surrounded by his supporters from the Umbra pack, me by my father and other Elios members. Aria pushes through to my side, linking her arm through mine.

“Look at you,” she whispers excitedly. “Already changing the world.”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” I say, fingering the pendant at my throat.

“Gloriously so,” she agrees.

The next hour passes in a blur of congratulations and hushed conversations. Members from both packs approach me—some genuinely supportive, others clearly there to assess the threat I now pose.

My father remains close, fielding questions from Elios elders who seem torn between pride and concern. “Of course I have reservations,” I overhear him saying to a particularly persistent elder. “But my daughter has proven herself worthy of this mantle. The time for blind prejudice is in the past.”

“Lyra Mooncrest,” a voice calls me from behind, and I twist around to find a man in a robe with the hood covering his head. “Your presence is requested for the Onyx Covenant final offering. The ceremony awaits you.” Their voice is low.

I scan the crowd quickly, searching for Theron’s tall figure among the mingling guests. The sea of faces blurs together—some familiar, some strangers—but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“He must have already been called,” I murmur, suddenly nervous. My fingers instinctively touch the tender skin where the manacle had been just hours ago as if I somehow miss the thing.

Aria squeezes my arm, her touch grounding me. “Go be brilliant. I’ll save you some of the good wine for after.” She gives me a playful shove forward. “This is it—your moment. The one you’ve earned.”

As I move to follow the robed figure, Kieran appears, making his way toward Aria through the crowd. I don’t miss the way Aria’s posture straightens, how her fingers instinctively smooth her hair, and the slight quickening of her breath.

“Go,” I whisper to her with a knowing smile. “Talk to him.”

She bites her lip, then nods. “Fine. But only because it serves the greater political good,” she quips, though her eyes are already fixed on Kieran.

I watch them for a brief moment—my best friend approaching the man who would once have been considered forbidden by both our packs’ laws. His smile as he sees her is genuine, unguarded in a way I’ve rarely seen from him. If Theron hadn’t chosen me as his Harvest Ritual partner, if we hadn’t challenged those ancient boundaries together, this simple interaction would have been impossible.

As I follow the robed figure through the crowd, I catch Selene’s venomous glare from across the gathering. The hatred in her eyes is unmistakable, burning bright despite everything that’s happened. Some things never change—she will always despise me for taking what she believed was rightfully hers.

I meet her stare evenly. Let her hate. Let her seethe. After her trying to kill me, she should be grateful she’s even allowed to attend. If she wants forgiveness, she’ll have to grovel for it—and even then, I’m not inclined to make it easy.

The robed figure leads me away from the main celebration, around the perimeter of the Covenant building. The sounds of conversation and laughter grow fainter as we move deeper into the shadows. The stones beneath my feet change from polished marble to rough-hewn granite.

“Where is Theron?” I ask, unease prickling at the back of my neck. “Isn’t the offering held in the main chamber?”

The figure doesn’t answer, just nods ahead and continues walking. We round the rear of the building where the stone walls rise blank and forbidding, unmarked by windows or decoration. Moss creeps between the stones, suggesting this section rarely sees visitors. A small, unremarkable door is set into the wall—one I’ve never noticed before despite my years of observing the Covenant from afar.

“This doesn’t seem right,” I say, slowing my steps. “I don’t think?—”

The figure moves with unexpected speed, pushing the door open and shoving me roughly inside. I stumble forward into darkness, the door slamming shut behind me with a heavy, final sound.

The darkness is absolute, disorienting. The air hangs thick with the scent of damp stone and something else, something metallic and vaguely sickening.

“Hello?” My voice echoes in the space. “What is this? What’s going?—”

A hand closes around my throat, slamming me back against the cold stone wall with crushing force. I claw at the fingers cutting off my air, panic surging through me as my feet barely touch the ground.

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