Page 12 of The Onyx Covenant (The Lunaterra Chronicles #2)

Chapter Nine

THERON

F ire burns under my skin, my blood running hot with need. Every breath brings Lyra’s scent, making my wolf scratch and claw inside me. Fuck, I need to focus, but all I can think about is bending Lyra over and fucking her.

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, tasting blood. Better. The pain cuts through the fog, if only for a second.

The Onyx Covenant’s grand dinner was a joke—poisoning us to show our true natures, how we really felt about our partners. As if we didn’t already know that. Animals dressed in human skin, pretending at civilization.

Now, the six of us stand at the edge of the Whispering Woods, waiting for Tarek and Melian to stop their ceremonial bullshit and send us on our way. Tall torches flank the ancient path that disappears into darkness, their flames casting dancing shadows across our faces.

“Stop fidgeting,” I tell Kieran, who’s been shifting his weight from foot to foot for the past five minutes, Rachel by his side. Her dark hair is pulled back in a tight braid, her black Umbra uniform making her nearly invisible in the night.

“I’m ready to get going before the rest of the mob follows.” He smirks. “Hate to kill fellow pack members when they inevitably piss me off.”

Lyra makes a choking, laughing sound.

“I mean the Elios twins, Cassius and Nyx,” Kieran clarifies. “Heard they’ve been practicing synchronized throat-slitting.”

“Their technique is sloppy at best,” Orion scoffs, his rigid posture making his dark blue Elios uniform look even more formal. “I wouldn’t waste your energy worrying about them.”

“You’ve been watching them train?” Aria asks, her loose hair blowing in the night breeze. Unlike Lyra, whose blonde locks practically glow in the moonlight, Aria blends into shadows almost as well as my Umbra pack does.

“Know your enemy, even those in your own pack,” Orion says simply.

Lyra steps closer to me, and the heat from her body pulses over to me. “They’re not our immediate enemies,” she says. “Our priority is completing our objective in one piece.”

I glance down at her, taking in her seriousness and how adorable she looks. Dressed for battle, she’s fucking hot and fierce. The monster in me wants to grab her by that hair and?—

“They’re ready for us,” Aria murmurs, nodding toward the path where Tarek and Melian have finally taken their positions.

“About fucking time,” I growl, stalking forward with the other five following close behind.

Tarek stands tall. Beside him, Melian’s obsidian robes absorb the light, making her seem like a hole cut from reality itself.

“The initial champions have arrived,” Tarek announces, his voice carrying across the clearing.

Melian steps forward, her features expressionless. “You stand at the threshold of your destiny. The Harvest Ritual begins now.”

Tarek gestures toward the bundle of backpacks on the ground behind them. “Basic supplies. Blanket, firerod, rope.”

“Back in the hall, you said there would be no advantages given,” Rachel points out, her tone challenging.

“We said we wouldn’t arm you with weapons,” Melian corrects coldly. “Now stop wasting time and get going.”

I snatch up a pack, feeling its weight. Light. Too light for comfort, but better than nothing. “Which way to the Darkbone Peaks?”

“The path will guide you,” Tarek says cryptically. “Stay on it, and you will reach your destination.”

Kieran mutters under his breath, “Nothing in these woods is that simple.”

“The Darkbone Peaks are just visible on the horizon,” Orion says, squinting into the dark distance. “The valley between them is our goal.”

“Not exactly,” Tarek mutters, his gaze narrowing as he points toward them. “That’s no ordinary valley. It’s higher up, wedged between the mountains like a scar carved into the stone. The path is steep. Getting there won’t be easy. Surviving it… even harder.”

“May the moons guide your journey,” Melian states, stepping aside to clear our path. “Their light shines brightest on those worthy of their gifts.”

“Let’s move,” I snap, stepping onto the path first, my wolf already alert to the dangers lurking beyond the torchlight.

The others fall into step behind me, the crunch of boots on dirt and the occasional rustle of clothing the only sounds. The forest looms ahead, ancient trees reaching skyward like clawed hands grasping for the moons.

“Any particular plan besides walking until something tries to kill us?” Kieran asks, coming up alongside me.

“Stay together, move fast, reach the valley before the others,” I reply. “Simple.”

The path narrows as we enter the true forest. I take point, keeping a steady pace that the others can maintain. The canopy closes overhead, blocking out most of the moonlight and plunging us into almost complete darkness. For normal humans, it would be impenetrable black, but our wolf eyes adjust quickly.

Lyra’s footsteps are nearly silent behind me, where I want her. An hour passes. The forest whispers around us, alive with sounds—rustling leaves, snapping twigs, the distant calls of animals and birds.

“This is taking too fucking long,” Kieran finally says, his voice low. “At this rate, we’ll still be walking when the next ritual comes around.”

“We need to move faster,” Rachel agrees.

I come to a stop, the others halting behind me. “We switch to four legs.”

“What about our supplies?” Orion asks, already shrugging off his pack.

Lyra steps forward, her movements confident as she sets her pack down. “We wear them before we shift. Our wolf forms will adapt around them.”

“Best way to travel,” Aria adds.

“Great plan. Let’s do it.” I start unbuttoning my jacket, watching as the others do the same. There’s no awkwardness—we’re shifters, and nudity is part of our lives—but I still find myself drawn to Lyra as she slips off her blue uniform.

She catches me looking and doesn’t glance away. Instead, there’s a challenge in her eyes, a heat that mirrors my own. The serum might be making things worse, but this attraction has always been there, buried under politics and pack rivalries.

I turn and strip off my shirt, revealing the ancient runes tattooed down my spine. When I glance back, Lyra’s eyes are tracing the marks.

“Like what you see?” I ask, my voice low enough that only she can hear.

“I’ve seen better,” she replies, but the flush on her cheeks tells a different story.

“Highly doubt it.” I grin, taking my time with my belt, making sure she gets a good look. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t look away as I strip completely.

Around us, the others are doing the same. Kieran and Rachel are already naked, stuffing their clothes into their packs. Orion keeps his back turned as he undresses. Aria is quick and businesslike, her movements economical.

Lyra is the first to finish, her clothes neatly packed away, the dark and the shadows concealing everything I want to see. She slips the straps of her backpack over her shoulders, securing it firmly.

“Ready?” she asks me, her blonde hair spilling down her bare back.

“Always,” I reply, shouldering my own pack.

She closes her eyes, and the change takes her. It’s fucking beautiful to watch—blonde hair becoming fur as her body flows seamlessly from woman to wolf. When it’s complete, she stands before me as a sleek silver wolf with subtle blue undertones, her pack still on her back as she predicted.

“Clever trick,” I tell the others, nodding toward Lyra.

“Looks like the Elios wolves are smarter than us after all,” Kieran states with a laugh, already securing his bag. Rachel follows suit, while Orion and Aria have already figured it out, their packs in place and bodies in wolf form, both light-colored gray wolves.

I finish securing my own, then call to my wolf. The change rips through me—bones snapping and re-forming, muscles tearing and rebuilding, skin giving way to fur. There’s pain, but it’s clean, familiar, almost welcome after the insidious burn of the serum.

When it’s done, I stand as a black wolf with silver streaking my flanks. I shake out my fur, feeling the weight of the pack settle between my shoulders.

Lyra’s scent hits me stronger now, and my wolf’s sense of smell picks up nuances my human nose missed—the subtle musk of her own arousal that she’s been trying to hide. The poison isn’t just affecting me. Good to know.

I meet each wolf’s eyes, establishing the hierarchy through gaze alone. Then I turn and lead the way along the path, our six-wolf pack moving through the midnight forest.

We cover ground rapidly now, our pace a steady trot that eats up miles without exhausting us. The forest opens to us.

Lyra keeps pace at my right flank, her fur flowing like moonlight. Kieran takes my left, his russet fur nearly black in the darkness. Rachel stays in the middle, while Orion and Aria bring up the rear, watching for threats from behind.

Must be a couple of hours that pass this way, the exertion burning away some of the poison’s effects. My head clears, though my awareness of Lyra’s presence never diminishes. Her scent, her movements, the occasional brush of her fur against mine when the path narrows—all of it feeds the hunger inside me.

When we reach a gurgling creek cutting across our path, I slow to a stop. The water is clear and cold, rushing down from the peaks ahead. I lower my head to drink, the cool water soothing my parched throat.

The others spread out along the bank, drinking deeply after our long run. Lyra laps at the water near me. Kieran and Rachel drink side by side, their shoulders touching casually. Orion keeps watch while Aria drinks.

An owl calls from a high branch while some small critters rustle in the underbrush, the wind sighing through ancient trees.

I’ve just lifted my head from the creek when I hear it—a howl rising from somewhere to our east. Not one of the entrants. The pitch is wrong, the cadence different. This is a wild wolf, one of the vicious packs that call the deepest woods home.

Another howl answers, then another. My ears swivel, tracking the sounds. Lyra tenses beside me, her body pressed against my side. Kieran moves closer, head low, hackles rising.

These aren’t ordinary wolves. The ones that survive in the Whispering Woods are larger and fiercer than their cousins elsewhere. Some say they’re touched by old magic. Whatever the truth, they’re dangerous—and territorial.

I let out a low growl, bringing my pack together.

More howls join the chorus—at least ten distinct voices, maybe more. Too many to fight, especially when we’re carrying no weapons but teeth and claws.

I can almost count the seconds before I catch the first flicker of movement between the trees, a shadow detaching from shadow, low to the ground, moving with predatory purpose. Then another. And another.

We’re being hunted.

I snarl and leap across the creek, the others following without hesitation. The water might dilute our scent trail, but it won’t buy us much time. We need distance, and we need it now.

We run—not the measured trot of before, but a full sprint, each of us pushing to our limits. I lead them through the trees, trying to find the path again while avoiding the worst of the underbrush. Lyra stays close to my side. Kieran occasionally drops back to snap at shadows that venture too close, his teeth flashing in the darkness.

Through breaks in the canopy, I catch sight of the Darkbone Peaks looming closer under the moonlight, twin spires of rock reaching for the night sky. But the howls behind us are gaining, coming from both sides now as well as behind.

They’re herding us.

A fallen log appears in our path. I clear it in a single bound, hearing the others jump after me. But a sharp yelp tells me someone has fallen. I skid to a stop, turning to find Aria struggling to her feet, blood darkening the fur of her left hind leg. Lyra is at her side in seconds.

Orion stands over her protectively, his teeth bared at the darkness. Rachel circles back to help, too, while Kieran takes up position beside me, facing the approaching threats.

A gray wolf slides from the shadows, lips peeled back to reveal yellowed fangs. He’s big, almost as large as Orion, with battle scars crisscrossing his muzzle. The pack Alpha, no doubt. Behind him, more pairs of eyes gleam in the darkness—fifteen, twenty, more.

I could take him one-on-one. Shifters are stronger than their wild cousins, and I’ve been trained to kill since childhood. But this isn’t one wolf. It’s an entire pack, and they are closing in.

I grunt, jerking my head to the right, away from the main concentration of wild wolves. Orion understands immediately, taking the lead position while I drop back with Kieran to guard our flanks and rear. Rachel helps Aria up, and we’re on the move again.

Protect the pack. Protect Lyra. The thoughts pulse frantically with each heartbeat as we sprint through unfamiliar territory, the howls at our heels driving us forward without time to choose our path.

The trees thin, and the ground beneath our paws changes from soft earth to hard stone. For a moment, the howls seem to fade, and I think we might have outrun them.

Then Orion slides to a sudden halt ahead of us, the rest of us nearly crashing into him. We’ve run straight to the edge of a cliff, a sheer drop with the river churning far below. The roar of a waterfall fills the air, and I can barely make out the white water waiting to claim us.

The wild pack’s howls sound near once more. Orion stares at me, then at the water below. A choice passes between us without words. He turns to Aria and Rachel, who presses her muzzle briefly against his in understanding.

Then he leaps, his powerful form arcing out over the abyss before disappearing into the darkness below. Rachel follows without hesitation, her gray form vanishing into the mist. I hear the splash of their bodies hitting water, but in the chaos, there’s no telling if they’ve survived the fall.

A snarl from behind jerks my attention back to the immediate danger. Three wild wolves have broken through the tree line, the gray Alpha the largest in the lead. I don’t wait for them to attack. I charge, using my larger size and shifter strength to slam into him.

My teeth find his throat, ripping through fur and flesh until I taste blood. He thrashes wildly, claws scoring my sides, but I hold firm. Kieran is beside me in an instant, taking down a second wolf that tries to flank me. His fighting style is all controlled fury—quick, vicious, and efficient.

I throw the Alpha aside, his body limp and broken. But more are coming. Many more, their eyes reflecting moonlight as they close in.

“Go!” I try to shout, but it comes out as a commanding bark. I lock eyes with Aria, then jerk my head toward the cliff edge. She understands, limping quickly to the edge before gathering herself and leaping into the void.

Kieran snarls beside me, refusing to leave. Loyal to the end, the stubborn fool. I growl at him, baring my teeth until he backs away. Then he turns and makes his own jump, his russet form briefly silhouetted against the mist before he’s gone.

I turn to find Lyra still standing there, her silver form trembling but her stance defiant. Why the fuck hasn’t she jumped? The wild wolves are regrouping, at least a dozen of them edging closer, emboldened now that only two shifters remain.

I rush to her side, nudging her roughly toward the cliff edge. She resists, her lavender eyes wide with fear. Not of the wolves, I realize, but of the fall. The wild wolves charge, and there’s no more time for coaxing.

I grab her by the scruff of her neck, my teeth gentle but firm in her silver fur. She struggles for a second, then goes still, trusting me. I’m already moving, carrying her with me as I make a powerful leap from the cliff edge.

For a moment, we’re suspended in air, the twin moons our only witnesses as we fall together into darkness. I loosen my grip, not wanting to injure her when we hit the water.

The impact is brutal, the cold shocking even through thick fur. The waterfall breaks the water, making the fall not as deadly as it could have been.

The current drags Lyra farther from me. I fight to the surface, lungs burning, head twisting to catch any glimpse of silver among the churning black water.

But with the current pulling me, I slam hard into a rock, pain exploding through my skull. The world spins, water filling my lungs as I struggle to stay conscious. The last thing I see before darkness claims me is a flash of silver fur in the moonlight, then nothing.

Lyra …