Page 74 of The Onyx Covenant

The admission hits me like ice water. She’d tried to murder me before the trials even properly began.

“It was you,” I breathe, realization turning quickly to white-hot fury. “You pushed me.”

Her smile is all venom and pride. “And next time, I won’t fail.”

Something snaps inside me. With a snarl, I lunge forward, my fist connecting with her jaw before she can react. “You fucking bitch!” The words tear from my throat as she staggers backward.

Selene recovers quickly, her hand dropping to the blade at her waist. The metal gleams as she draws it halfway from its sheath.

Suddenly Theron is between us, his broad back to me as he faces Selene. One hand is raised toward her, the other extended behind him to hold me back.

“That’s enough,” he states sternly, his voice carrying quiet authority.

“She attacked me!” Selene hisses, though her hand stills on the blade.

“After you admitted to attempted murder,” I spit, trying to move around Theron. He shifts slightly, keeping himself as a barrier between us.

“She doesn’t deserve to be here,” Selene continues, her gaze locked on me over Theron’s shoulder. “An Elios priestess? She’ll be useless in the final trial. You’ve doomed yourself by choosing her.”

“Selene.” Theron’s tone drops even lower, a warning rumble like distant thunder. “Your father’s influence got you into this ritual, but it won’t keep you alive through it. The mountain just taught everyone a valuable lesson about who can be relied on. Take the hint and focus on survival instead of petty rivalries.”

His words do nothing to dampen the hatred in her eyes. “This isn’t over,” she mouths to me, her fingers still wrapped around her blade’s hilt.

“You’re right about that,” I murmur, just loud enough for both of them to hear.

Selene’s eyes narrow to slits of pure hatred. For a moment, I think she might attack anyway, consequences be damned. Instead, she turns on her heel and stalks out of the tent, her rigid posture screaming of humiliation.

As soon as she’s gone, Theron turns to me. “What happened? What did she say to you?”

I consider telling him. But something stops me. This is my fight, not his.

“Nothing worth repeating,” I say instead, forcing my breathing to steady. “Just her usual poison.”

His eyes search mine, clearly not believing me. “Lyra?—”

“Not here,” I cut him off, nodding toward the others pretending not to watch our exchange. “Trust me. This is something I need to handle.”

He hesitates, then gives a slight nod. He takes my hand, guiding me to a quieter corner of the tent, where a small table holds bread, cheese, and what smells like mulled wine. “You should eat more. The final trial won’t be easy.”

We sit close together, the shared warmth a stark contrast to the chill of worry that’s settled in my chest. I pick at the food, my appetite diminished by worry for Aria.

“Tell me,” I say after a while. “Why are you so confident Kieran will keep Aria safe?”

Theron’s expression softens slightly. “We’ve been friends since we were pups. His mother helped raise me after mine disappeared.” He tears off a piece of bread, rolling it between his fingers absently. “He comes across as a smart-ass, but he’s the most loyal wolf I know. And the most resourceful. When we were fifteen, we got lost in the northern territories during a hunting trip. Blizzard came out of nowhere and separated us from the rest of the party. Kieran not only found shelter, but he also managed to catch food, start a fire with practically nothing, and track our way back once the storm cleared.”

We lapse into a comfortable silence, the worry still present but somehow more bearable shared between us. Outside, the rain slows, pattering against the tent. Occasionally, thunder rumbles overhead while I keep picking at the food, and Theron and I exchange stories of the silliest things Kieran and Aria have done.

The waiting is torture. As night stretches over the land, bringing with it a deeper chill, my hope begins to falter. What if they don’t make it by midnight? What if they don’t make it at all?

“They’re coming,” someone says from outside the tent.

I sprint out of the tent, hope tight in my gut, Theron at my side.

Voices call out, feet splash through mud, and my heart leaps into my throat. Four of them are pushing themselves toward us, and I let out a relieved sound to see them alive.

They finally reach us, drenched, breathing hard, flushed with exertion but gloriously, wonderfully alive.

“Aria!” I launch myself at her, nearly knocking her over with the force of my embrace. She staggers but stays upright, her arms closing around me with equal fervor.

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