Page 46 of The Onyx Covenant

“Never,” he replies with a wink. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Sure it is,” Theron mutters, but his lips twitch with his own grin.

Kieran leans across Theron, his eyes finding mine. “How’s our little priestess holding up? Not too overwhelmed by my friend’s sunny disposition, I hope?”

“I’ve survived worse,” I reply dryly.

“Have you now?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Care to share details? For research purposes, of course.”

Theron elbows him. “Mind your own business, Stormfang.”

“When has that ever been fun?” Kieran laughs, rubbing his side. “Besides, someone has to make conversation. You two look like you’re plotting murders instead of enjoying a feast.”

“Who says we can’t do both?” I reach for my goblet, and both men laugh. Aria, next to me, watches, smirking. There’s something comforting about having her here with me, as though I’m not alone in this chaotic mess.

Across the table, Selene’s ice-blue gaze narrows to slits. She’s an Umbra wolf and hasn’t touched her food, her pale fingers circling the rim of her goblet as she watches us… watches me.

“Something amusing?” she asks, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Or have you simply forgotten which side you’re on?”

The table falls quiet, all attention shifting between us.

“I know exactly which side I’m on,” I say, meeting her gaze steadily. “My own.”

“How convenient.” She tosses her deep brown hair over one shoulder, the movement deliberately sensual.

“At least she faces her opponents directly,” Theron interjects, his voice deceptively soft. “Instead of hiding behind others and pecking at weaknesses from safety. Like an unintelligent coward.”

Selene’s face flushes an ugly red. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t understand, you’re proving his point,” Kieran butts in.

She turns to Erebus, her hulking partner with shoulders like small mountains and a perpetual scowl. “Are you going to let them talk to me like that?”

Before Erebus can respond, Kieran lets out a dramatic sigh. “Calm your damn heels, everyone. We’re trying to eat here!” He pats his stomach. “Some of us have important digestive business to attend to.”

“Is that what you call stuffing your face?” Rachel asks.

“I call it preparing for survival.” He grins, tearing into a turkey leg with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Can’t fight on an empty stomach!”

“Or a full one, either,” she points out.

“Watch me.”

Servers start coming into the room, bringing more platters—steaming vegetables sprinkled with herbs, sweet pastries drizzled with honey, and pitchers of fruit juice and water. I notice there’s no alcohol, which makes sense. The Covenant wants us sharp for tomorrow.

“Is your friend always this… much?” I ask Theron quietly, nodding toward Kieran, who’s now performing an elaborate tale for those around him, complete with sound effects.

Theron’s lips twitch. “Always.” He laughs out loud.

“And yet you keep him around.”

“He grows on you.” He takes a sip from his goblet, eyes never leaving mine over the rim. “Like a fungus you can’t quite get rid of.”

“I heard that!” Kieran calls out. “And I prefer to think of myself as a rare and valuable truffle.”

“Rare, definitely,” Theron replies, chuckling.

As the men continue their banter, I fill my plate with roasted venison and herb-crusted potatoes, my stomach growling despite the tension, and then eat.

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