Page 22 of The Onyx Covenant

“What do you mean?” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady.

“The ancient magic wouldn’t have accepted such an unprecedented pairing without… something binding you already. Some connection.” Her eyes are too knowing, too perceptive.

“There’s nothing,” I lie quickly, even as the manacle seems to warm against my skin as if contradicting me. “He’s the enemy. Always has been.”

My mother doesn’t look convinced, but before she can press further, the door to the balcony opens. Theron stands in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space.

“We should go,” he says. “My father has already left for the portal back to Wolfhaven.”

My father steps between us, a growl building low in his throat. “You’re not taking my daughter anywhere.”

“With all due respect, Alpha Mooncrest,” Theron responds, his tone careful, “neither of us has a choice now. If we don’t present ourselves to the Onyx Covenant by midnight, we’ll be disqualified, and the binding will remain until the Harvest Ritual concludes anyway. Our best chance is to go through with this.”

My mother places a restraining hand on my father’s arm. “He’s right. Let’s go back and talk to the Covenant.”

For a moment, I think my father might attack Theron, consequences be damned. Then his shoulders slump fractionally, defeat and fury warring in his eyes.

“If anything happens to her, if she comes to any harm because of you or your pack, there won’t be a place in any of the kingdoms where you can hide from me.”

Theron meets his gaze unflinchingly. “Understood.”

My mother steps forward, taking my hands in hers.

One thought cuts through all others—tonight, the man who broke my heart has bound our fates together irrevocably. What scares me most isn’t the deadly trials ahead of us; it’s the treacherous hope buried deep in my chest that refuses to die.

ChapterFour

LYRA

Night crawls across the sky as I stand at the edge of the Onyx Covenant grounds, the moons already high and casting their dual glow—Elios veiled in silver mist, Umbra cloaked in shadow. The air feels electric, charged with the approaching chaos.

The enormous clearing surrounding the Covenant building stretches before us, an expanse of ancient cobblestones worn smooth by centuries of rituals and ceremonies. Tall pine trees encircle the area like silent guardians. Torches line the perimeter, their flames dancing wildly as if sensing the tension that hangs in the air.

My parents have just arrived, their faces grim in the flickering light. We remain within the shelter of the trees, not yet exposed to the dozens of wolves I know await us in the clearing. Father pauses, glancing around to ensure we have relative privacy, though I’m aware of Theron standing about thirty feet away, providing us space while still remaining within the required distance. I appreciate his discretion.

“Lyra,” Father says. “I need you to understand the gravity of what’s happening.”

I glance down at the manacle encircling my wrist. The black metal seems to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it, save for the thin veins of silver. I’ve seen these artifacts in ceremonies my entire life but never imagined wearing one, especially not one that connects me to an Umbra wolf.

“I understand,” I reply, running my finger along the smooth edge of the manacle. “But the binding is already complete.”

“The Onyx Covenant must reverse this.” Father shakes his head, concern etching deep lines around his mouth. “They will. You aren’t trained for the trials that lie ahead, Lyra. The Harvest Ritual claims lives every year—seasoned warriors who’ve prepared their entire lives.”

“I’m not as helpless as you think,” I say, the words sounding small even to my own ears.

He frowns, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t about being helpless. You are a priestess in training, a calling highly revered above even our Nightblades. Your path serves our pack in different ways.”

“But I’m nineteen,” I argue, straightening my spine. “Old enough to make my own decisions.”

“No.” Father’s voice firms, though his eyes remain kind. “Not while you’re under pack rule. Like everyone else, you follow our laws—laws that have kept us safe for generations.”

Mother steps closer, her hand finding mine. “He only wants to protect you, Lyra. We both do.”

I want to argue further, but the words die in my throat. They can’t understand what this means to me, this unexpected chance to prove myself, to be more than just the Alpha’s sheltered daughter. And they certainly can’t understand the storm of emotions Theron’s actions have unleashed inside me.

Betrayal. Anger. Confusion.

“We should join the others,” Mother says softly. “The Covenant is waiting.”

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