Page 24 of The Onyx Covenant (The Lunaterra Chronicles #2)

Chapter Twenty

LYRA

M orning light slices through the tall windows of the Onyx Covenant building, casting silver-blue streaks across the polished obsidian floor. I nudge a stray book out of my path with my foot, still not used to the eerie way it sounds when something scrapes against the stone here—hollow, like disturbing a tomb.

It’s been a week since the Harvest Ritual, a week since Theron drove a blade into his father to save my life, and a week since we marched into this huge monument to power as the new Onyx Covenant council. A week since everything changed.

From the outside, this place is intimidating as hell—a fortress of black stone. But inside? That’s where the real surprise hit me. The outer walls contain some crystalline substance that turns nearly transparent from the inside, giving us views that stretch for miles while keeping prying eyes out. It’s like living inside a one-way mirror—we see everything, but no one sees us.

I pause at the window overlooking the eastern forests, watching a hawk circle lazily above the trees. Somewhere down there, wolves from both our packs are hunting. My wolf stirs on the inside to join them, but my path has shifted for now. Theron and I have changes to implement across our two packs, but until then, we can’t be seen joining normal hunting routines. Though, I had no idea how much I’d miss it…

I continue my exploration of the Onyx Covenant building, climbing the spiral staircase to the third level. The steps hover without visible support, carved from some material that resembles black glass but feels warm beneath my bare feet. Ancient runes flicker to life with each step I take, acknowledging my right to be here.

Still freaks me out a little.

The main hall on the first floor spans nearly the entire building, with ceilings so high it feels like standing in a cathedral. The council chamber sits at the center, a circular room with seats arranged around a table formed from a single piece of polished moonstone. The surface ripples when touched—actually fucking ripples like water—responding to the emotions of whoever touches it.

The second floor houses the library. The shelves stretch forever, some books so old they’d crumble to dust if not for the preservation spells holding them together.

Then there’s the third floor—our private sanctuary. Spacious rooms are connected by arching hallways, with balconies overlooking the sacred groves. It’s more luxury than I’ve ever known, and sometimes, I still expect someone to appear and throw me out for trespassing.

I pause at the top of the stairs, listening. Theron disappeared after our morning meal, muttering something about exploring the east wing. Living together has been easier than I expected, his presence somehow both thrilling and comforting.

Following the sound of shuffling papers, I make my way down the eastern corridor, past rooms we haven’t fully explored yet. For the next decade, this entire structure is ours alone. The previous Covenant members, Tarek and Melian, relocated to the Umbra pack after the ceremony, while the guards and trainees who serve the Covenant live in the barracks outside. No one enters without our explicit permission—a boundary that’s given us precious privacy during this transition.

I find Theron in what appears to be an old study, methodically pulling books from shelves and examining the walls behind them. He’s got on fitted black pants and a simple shirt that stretches across his broad shoulders, defining every muscle as he moves. His dark hair falls across his forehead as he concentrates, jaw set in that determined way that still makes my stomach flip. Gods, I still find him so handsome, maybe more so with each passing day.

For a moment, I simply watch him, remembering how impossible this once seemed—an Elios priestess and an Umbra Alpha heir together as equals.

“You planning to stand there all day, or are you going to help?” he asks without lifting his gaze to me.

“Depends,” I reply, leaning against the doorframe. “The view from here is pretty damn appealing.”

Now, he does glance at me, eyes glinting with that predatory light that never fails to send a thrill down my spine. “Is that right?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” I push off from the door and move into the room. “Why are you destroying the library, anyway?”

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it even more appealingly disheveled. “I’m looking for something.”

“Obviously. Care to be more specific?”

He straightens, setting aside the thick leather book he’d been examining. “It’s about time I start to find the things my mother mentioned in her journals…” He pauses, jaw tightening.

The sudden darkness in his voice draws me closer.

“According to what she wrote, there’s a secret area in this building that previous Onyx Covenant members may not have known about… or perhaps just chose to ignore. Ignorance is bliss, they say.” He moves to another shelf, fingers tracing the spines of ancient texts. “She heard from her grandmother that when the Elios ruled, they hid historical information here out of fear that when Umbra took over, certain documents might be destroyed.”

“By your family,” I say, not bothering to soften the truth.

His shoulders tense, then relax. “Yes. They would have happily erased anything that didn’t support their version of history.” He shakes his head, his expression grim. “I assumed most Covenant members were too weak to stand against him, but seeing Tarek and Melian at the ceremony…”

“When they finally grew spines?” I interject.

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Something like that.”

“Only took them a decade,” I mutter, running my fingers along the shelves. “They seemed all too happy to abandon their posts once we took over.”

“Ten years trapped between warring packs would drain anyone’s courage,” Theron says, though there’s little sympathy in his tone. “Especially with someone like my father watching their every move.”

I retrieve a chair from behind the desk, dragging it to the wall and climbing up to examine the higher shelves. “So, what exactly are we looking for? Secret lever? Hidden door? Ancient chest full of forbidden knowledge?”

“I don’t know exactly,” he admits, glancing up at me. “My mother wasn’t specific in her journals. Just look for anything unusual.”

“This entire building is unusual,” I grumble but continue my search.

For several minutes, we work in companionable silence. I test loose stones, pull random books, and tap on suspicious-looking panels. Occasionally, I steal glances at Theron, admiring every inch of him.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he says suddenly, “we’re never going to find anything useful.”

“Like what?” I ask with feigned innocence.

“Like you’re imagining me doing things that have nothing to do with secret passages.” He abandons his search, crossing the space between us in three long strides.

Before I can formulate a sarcastic response, he’s there, one hand closing around my wrist and tugging me down from the chair. In seconds, I find myself trapped between the solid wall and his harder body.

“You were saying?” I manage, heart already racing.

His arms cage me in, palms flat against the wall on either side of my head. “You’re mine now,” he admits, voice dropping to that dangerous register that vibrates through my chest. “No escape routes. No rescue coming.”

Instead of fear, heat floods my veins. I tilt my chin up defiantly. “I don’t need rescuing. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“And where’s that?” His eyes darken, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of gray remains.

“With you,” I say simply. “Where else would I be?”

Something shifts in his expression—the playful dominance giving way to something rawer, more primal.

“Say it again,” he commands, his voice rough.

I hold his gaze steadily. “I’m yours.”

His thumb traces my lower lip, pressing just hard enough to sting. “I’ve wanted you since we first met in the woods, Lyra. I burned when I lost you, and I watched you from afar, knowing I couldn’t have you but desperately ached for you.”

“And now?” I ask, sliding my hands up his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart.

“Now, nothing stands in my way.” A savage satisfaction colors his words. “And you’re mine.”

“Yours,” I agree, then dig my nails into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. “But don’t forget… you’re also mine. The most feared wolf in the territory, brought to heel by an Elios priestess. Imagine what they’d say.”

A growl rumbles deep in his chest. “Is that what you think? That you’ve tamed me?”

I smile, slow and deliberate. “I think I like having a dangerous predator wrapped around my finger.”

His other hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back to expose my throat. “Dangerous is right,” he murmurs against my pulse point. Suddenly, he claims my mouth in a bruising kiss. There’s nothing gentle about it—this is possession. His teeth catch my lower lip, biting just hard enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain racing along my nerves.

I gasp as his tongue invades, taking immediate control. My body responds instantly, melting against him like it was made for this alone. I claw at his shoulders, seeking purchase, needing him closer still. He tastes of wild berries and mint leaves from our morning meal, and beneath that, something darker and uniquely his—like pine needles and smoky amber.

His hands are everywhere—in my hair, gripping my waist, sliding beneath the hem of my shirt to find bare skin. Each touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake, and I arch into him, wanting more, needing more.

“I thought…” I manage when he finally releases my mouth to attack my neck. “I thought you were searching for something important.”

“I am,” he growls against my throat, teeth scraping sensitive skin. “But I’m finding myself thoroughly distracted.” His fingers trace the edge of my waistband. “I should probably return to my search,” he murmurs, pulling back slightly.

I grab his wrist, keeping his hand in place. “Don’t you dare.”

The smile he gives me is pure predator. “As my lady commands.” In one swift motion, he spins me around to face the wall, his chest pressed hard against my back. “Though I don’t think ladies usually beg quite so prettily for corruption.”

His breath is hot against my ear, his body a solid wall of heat behind me. One arm wraps around my waist, pulling me tight against him, letting me feel exactly how much he wants this—wants me. The thickness in his pants presses hard against my rear.

“How many times do you think I’ve imagined this?” he whispers, his free hand sliding up my side to cup my breast through my shirt. “Having you exactly like this, at my mercy whenever I want?”

I push back against him, grinding deliberately, and am rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

“At your mercy?” I challenge, glancing back over my shoulder. “Are you sure about that? Because it seems to me you’re the one who’s desperate.”

His hand tightens in warning, then slips beneath my shirt, fingers tracing up my ribs to find bare skin.

“You have no idea what desperate feels like,” he promises, his voice dark with intent. “But you will.”

His mouth latches onto the side of my neck, sucking hard enough that I know it will leave a mark, while his fingers find my nipple through the thin fabric of my breast band. He rolls it between his fingers, alternating between gentle teasing and sharper pressure that draws gasps from my lips.

My head falls back against his shoulder, my body surrendering even as my mind maintains the challenge.

“Prove it,” I demand. “Show me exactly how desperate you can make me.”

A low chuckle vibrates against my skin. “Such a demanding little thing.” His hand slides lower, deftly undoing the laces of my pants. “Always giving orders, even when you’re the one pinned and helpless.”

“I’m never helpless,” I retort, though my voice shakes.

“No?” His teeth graze my earlobe. “Then stop me.”

Instead, I reach behind me, my hand finding the hard ridge of his cock through his pants. Gods, he’s so hard, so beautifully big.

“Why would I want to do that?” I ask innocently. “Especially when I can feel how much you need this, too?”

He hisses at my touch, hips jerking forward instinctively. “Need you,” he corrects, his voice rough with desire. “Only you.”

His admission sends a fresh wave of heat through me. I turn my head, seeking his mouth, needing to taste him again. He obliges, kissing me deeply while he’s already tugging on my pants and underwear. He finally pulls from my kiss and crouches down as he draws them along my legs. I step out of them, feeling so vulnerable, so sexy and hot for him.

Back on his feet, he grins sinfully and kisses me once more, keeping me still facing the wall.

I moan into his mouth as he explores, touches, and learns exactly what makes me tremble. His other hand yanks impatiently at my shirt, pushing it up to expose me completely.

“Say it,” he demands against my lips. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” I gasp as his hand slides over my hips, across my lower stomach, and falls between my thighs. I moan loudly as his fingers slip between my folds, where I’m burning up and soaking. “I’m yours, Theron.”

He growls his approval, his touch teasing my clit so rapidly I’m left breathless. Hands pressed to the wall, I tremble as I spread my legs for him when he pushes two fingers into me.

I cry out as he licks my neck, then sucks down on my earlobe. His hot breath washes across my skin, making me shake against him.

Releasing me, he spins me to face him. His eyes are almost entirely black now, with only the thinnest ring of silver remaining.

“And I’m yours,” he says, the words sounding as if they’ve been torn from him. “Body and soul. The last thought in my mind will be of you.”

There’s something devastating about the raw honesty in his voice. I reach for his pants, pulling at his belt and buttons, then tug them down, revealing that he’s wearing nothing underneath. His throbbing cock springs free, alert and pointing at me. Drawing his mouth down to mine again, I pour everything into the kiss. His hands grip my thighs, lifting me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he presses me back against the wall.

We don’t bother with removing our clothes entirely—too urgent, too desperate. He positions himself at my entrance, and I moan as the tip pushes into me, my pulse racing in my veins.

“Look at me,” he commands, waiting until my gaze locks with his before pushing forward in one powerful thrust.

I cry out at his thickness, the way he stretches me, my nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. The sensation is overwhelming—perfect, too much and not enough all at once. He gives me only seconds to adjust before he begins to move, setting a rhythm that has me gasping with each thrust.

“Your sweet, tight pussy is mine,” he growls, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise while the other tangles in my hair. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I manage, my voice breaking as he hits a spot inside me that makes my vision blur. “Fuck, Theron…”

His pace increases, thrusting faster, driving me to lose control. I cling to him, my back scraping against the wall, the slight pain only enhancing the pleasure building in my core. His mouth finds my neck again, biting and sucking as if he can’t get enough of my taste.

“Fuck, you smell and taste so addictive.” His words are a dark vow against my skin. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.”

The possessive declaration shouldn’t send another wave of heat through me, but it does. There’s something raw and right about being claimed so completely by him, about knowing he’d tear the world apart to keep me safe.

“No one would dare,” I gasp, my head falling back against the wall as arousal coils tighter in my belly. “Everyone knows I’m yours.”

He shifts his angle slightly, and suddenly, the pressure intensifies, threatening to shatter me completely.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice strained with his own approaching release. “Let me feel you come all over my cock, squeezing me.”

His fingers slide down between us, adding pressure on my clit where I need it most, and I’m lost. The world fragments around me, pleasure crashing through my body in waves so intense that I cry out his name, my voice echoing off the stone walls. My pussy clenches around him, pulling him deeper, and I feel rather than hear his answering groan as he follows me over the edge.

At the height of my crescendo, my hand slams back against the wall, searching for something, anything, to anchor me as sensation threatens to sweep me away completely. My palm connects with a section of stone that gives slightly under the pressure, different from the rest. There’s a soft clicking sound, barely audible over our ragged breathing, then the wall behind me begins to move.

Theron reacts instantly, his arms wrapping securely around me as he stumbles backward, pulling us both away from the opening panel. We stagger, still intimately connected, as a section of the wall swings silently inward to reveal a darkened passage beyond.

For a moment, we simply stare at the opening in stunned silence, him still buried deep inside me. Then I start to laugh, the sound bubbling up from my chest uncontrollably.

“Of course,” I gasp between fits of giggles. “Of fucking course that’s how we find a secret compartment.”

Theron’s expression shifts from confusion to amusement, and soon he’s laughing, too, the sound deep and rich against my neck. “Well, that’s certainly a new method of exploration.”

I can’t help but join him, the absurdity of the moment too perfect. “Only we would literally stumble upon a secret door while fucking.”

With reluctance, we disentangle ourselves, our bodies separating, though my skin still hums from his touch. Theron disappears briefly, returning with a damp cloth. He kneels before me, and it makes my heart clench. With surprising gentleness, he tends to me, wiping me clean with careful strokes.

“You don’t have to do this,” I tell him, suddenly self-conscious under his intent stare.

His gaze lifts to mine, one eyebrow raised. “I want to.” His hand stills momentarily. “Unless you’d prefer I didn’t?”

“No, it’s just—” I struggle to find the words. “Most Alphas wouldn’t consider this their responsibility.”

A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not most Alphas. And you’re not most Omegas.”

His brow furrows in concentration, as if this simple act of care requires the same focus he brings to battle strategy.

“Too much?” he asks softly.

I shake my head, strangely moved by his consideration. “Perfect.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, casual and affectionate. “I should hope I know what you can handle by now.”

“Arrogant,” I accuse without heat.

“Accurate,” he counters.

Once done, he cleans himself efficiently and quickly. There’s something profoundly moving about this fierce, dangerous man being so attentive, so gentle in these private moments.

After we hastily rearrange our clothing, Theron moves first into the hidden compartment, and a soft blue glow automatically illuminates a narrow corridor beyond the hidden door.

“Shall we?” he asks.

I approach cautiously, running my fingers along the edge of the opening. The mechanism is completely invisible—no handle, no obvious latch, nothing to indicate that a door exists at all.

“How did no one discover this before? The Covenant members lived here for years.”

“Maybe they weren’t looking, or maybe they knew?” Theron says. We follow the narrow passage extending about twenty feet before ending at what appears to be another door.

The air is stale but not unpleasant, suggesting the space has remained sealed for some time. Unlike the hidden entrance, the iron door we find makes no attempt to disguise its nature. It’s clearly a barrier meant to keep people out.

“No handle,” I observe, running my hands over the cold metal surface. “And no obvious way to open it.”

Theron examines the door carefully, seeing no engravings or markings.

“Wait,” he says suddenly, pointing to the far left of the door. “Look at this.”

I lean closer to see what he’s found. It’s a circular depression about two inches in diameter, deep enough that the bottom disappears into shadow.

“A keyhole?” I suggest, frowning. “But it’s not like any I’ve seen before.”

“It’s not for a conventional key,” Theron agrees, tracing the opening with his finger.

I touch the medallion hanging from my ceremonial chain—the one that grants us access to the Covenant building. “Do you think it could be this?”

He considers it, then shakes his head while I contemplate if I’ve seen any keys in the building since arriving but come up short.

“We had to use a key in the maze,” he blurts out and glances at me. My eyes widen as it all comes back to me.

A thought strikes me suddenly. “The Bloodstone Key!”

“You still have it, right?” he asks urgently.

“Yes, I brought it with me after the maze. It’s in our bedroom, in the carved box on the shelf.”

“I’ll get it,” he states, already turning back toward the passage. “Stay here and see if you can find anything else.”

While he’s gone, I examine the door more carefully, noting how the hallway has no markings either and how this whole section doesn’t fit the same design as the Onyx Covenant building—as though someone built this secretly.

Theron returns moments later, slightly breathless from hurrying. The Bloodstone Key gleams dully in his palm and is small enough to fit comfortably in the hand, with strange symbols etched into its surface.

“Let’s see if this works,” he says, holding it up to the depression in the door.

The Bloodstone Key fits perfectly into the hole. For a moment, nothing happens. Then Theron gives it a slight turn, and we hear a series of clicks from within the door.

Slowly, silently, the heavy door swings inward, revealing the darkness beyond.

I take his free hand and squeeze it, then we step through the doorway into the unknown.

The chamber is larger than I expected, perhaps twenty square feet, with a vaulted ceiling. Dust motes dance in the beam of our blue light, swirling in the disturbed air. The room is lined with shelves from floor to ceiling, packed with books, scrolls, and what appear to be wooden filing boxes. A large table sits in the center, surrounded by cushioned chairs.

“By the moons,” Theron breathes, stepping inside. “This is it. This must be what my mother was referring to.”

I follow him in, running my fingers along the spines of books whose titles have faded with time. “There’s so much here. Records going back… centuries, by the look of it.”

“We need to read all of it,” Theron says, already pulling volumes from shelves. “Everything. There could be crucial information about both our packs, about the Covenant itself.”

“This will take months,” I observe, opening one of the wooden boxes to find neatly filed parchments.

Theron glances up, a half smile playing on his lips despite the seriousness of the moment. “Good thing we have ten years, then.”

We spend hours examining the contents of the hidden chamber, carefully placing items onto the table for closer inspection. Some documents are so fragile they threaten to crumble at a touch, while others are better preserved.

As daylight fades outside, neither of us suggests stopping. At some point, Theron drags the cushions from the chairs to provide more comfort on the floor.

The last thing I remember is resting my head on his shoulder, just for a moment, as I struggle to decipher a particularly faded text…

* * *

I wake to pale morning light filtering through the hidden doorway. Theron is no longer beside me, and for a moment, I feel a pang of disorientation. Then I spot him by the window in the study beyond, surrounded by stacks of books and folders, his expression grave as he reads from a leather-bound journal. Stretching the stiffness from my limbs, I rise and make my way to him.

“Find anything?” I ask, my voice still husky from sleep.

He looks up, and the raw emotion in his eyes stops me cold. They glisten with what might be unshed tears, something I’ve never seen from him before.

“So much,” he says quietly. “Too much.”

I kneel beside him, taking his hand. “Tell me.”

He draws in a deep breath, gesturing to the documents spread around him. “Evidence of Umbra corruption going back to my father’s grandfather—patterns my father simply continued and expanded upon.” His jaw tightens. “And worse, records kept by previous Onyx Covenant members over the earlier decades when they started documenting everything but doing nothing to stop it.”

“They just… hid the evidence here?” I ask, anger stirring in my chest.

“They knew,” he confirms, his voice laced with fury. “They fucking knew, and they chose to be neutral observers rather than mediators. They betrayed their sacred duty.”

I pick up one of the journals, scanning entries that detail systematic advantages given to Umbra during supposed fair territory divisions.

“The Onyx Covenant members choose what laws to enforce,” I say slowly. “And they were wrong to ignore this.”

“Criminally wrong,” Theron blurts. His hand clenches around a particular document, wrinkling the ancient paper. “There are records here of hunts where the Elios pack was given maybe ten percent of catches, deliberately keeping your people on the edge of starvation during harsh winters.”

I swallow hard, remembering the lean years of my childhood. “We always suspected but could never prove it.”

“I haven’t found anything on my mother yet, but I doubt they would have recorded her death here. And after what my father said before I killed him, I know he took her life.” His voice shakes, and I lean in closer to him, embracing him, my heart hurting for him.

“But why keep these other records at all? If they were complicit, why not destroy the evidence?”

“From what I’ve seen, all the records here are at least thirty to forty years old, nothing recent. So someone back then wanted the truth to come out but must have been too afraid to expose it,” Theron states, gesturing to the shelves of damning evidence. “Why else maintain the secret room, organizing everything so meticulously? Why else would they add the key in the maze that resets itself every ten years? They wanted someone to eventually discover this room and the information.”

“They could have used the Onyx Warriors,” I say, sighing. “They had the means to stand against your family.”

“But what happens after their ten years of service?” he answers. “They’d have to return to their packs, where my father could eliminate them. Or he could kill their families while the Covenant members were still in here, protected.”

We’re silent for a long moment. Finally, he nods slowly.

“Fear is a powerful motivator, but cowardice is no excuse for enabling a tyrant.”

I press my hand over his. “What do we do with all this now?”

He reaches for an ancient leather-bound journal, its pages yellowed with age. “There’s something else I found. Something that changes everything we thought we knew and what I think my mother was hinting at in her journal.” His fingers trace the faded symbol on the cover—two crescent moons, one silver, one black, forming a perfect circle together.

“What is it?” I ask, leaning closer.

“The original Covenant,” Theron says. “Written in the hand of an Alpha who led both our packs.”

My breath catches. “Both?”

We’d suspected it. The carvings in the maze hinted at unity—at something older than the split we were raised to believe in. But this… this is different.

He opens the journal carefully, revealing intricate drawings and text in an ancient script.

“Elios and Umbra weren’t just once united,” he says. “They were never meant to be divided. One pack. One strong, unified pack that worshipped both moons together.”

His eyes meet mine, alive with the weight of truth. “The silver moon of light and the black moon of shadow… they were always two halves of the same whole.”

I shake my head, trying to absorb it. “That goes beyond anything we saw in the maze… even what I was taught in priestess training.”

“Exactly.”

Theron flips through more pages, revealing detailed illustrations of wolves gathered beneath both moons, dancing, howling, living as one.

“The division wasn’t some divine order,” he says. “It was a choice. A betrayal. Power-hungry Alphas twisted the original teachings to serve themselves.”

He points to a passage, tracing the words with his fingertip.

“As the moons find balance in the night sky, so too must the children of silver light and obsidian shadow find balance within one pack. Neither can exist without the other; together, they create harmony.?”

I feel dizzy with the implications. “So, all this fighting, all this hatred between our packs…”

“Was based on a lie,” he finishes. “Or at the very least, a terrible misinterpretation that maybe became dogma.”

“This changes everything,” I whisper, tracing the symbol of the joined moons. “We haven’t just been doing it wrong—we’ve been working against our very nature.”

Theron nods, then gestures to the hundreds of documents still waiting to be examined. “There’s so much more here to uncover. Secrets buried for generations.”

I look up at him, a new resolve burning within me. “We need to let everyone know. Not just about your father’s crimes, but about this—our true heritage. We need to bring the packs back together the way they were always meant to be.”

He leans closer to me. “We do what the Onyx Covenant was always meant to do. We bring balance. We expose the corruption, make restitution to those who suffered, and create new laws that can’t be so easily manipulated.” His eyes shine with determination. “And yes, we reunite our people, step by step.”

“We’ll do it slowly, without war,” I say firmly.

“Good thing we have the Onyx Warriors at our command if things don’t go smoothly,” he adds with a grim smile.

I press my forehead to his, and we stare into each other’s eyes.

His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his touch infinitely gentle despite the storm of emotions I know are raging within him.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m almost grateful for my father’s final act of cruelty. If he hadn’t tried to kill you, I might never have found the courage to end him. To free our packs from his poison.”

“And now we have the evidence to show everyone exactly who he was,” I say.

“No one will be able to paint him as a martyr.”

“Then we’d better get to work.” I rise to my feet and extend my hand to him. “We have a lot to accomplish in ten years.”

He takes my hand, standing to his full height. In the morning light, with determination hardening his features, he looks every inch the leader our packs need.

“No,” he says softly. “We have a legacy to build that will last far beyond our ten years. Starting now.”

As he pulls me to him for a kiss that feels like a promise, I hold the ancient journal between us—a physical reminder of the truth we’ve discovered. For the first time, I can envision a future where our packs aren’t just at peace but truly unified, as they were always meant to be. Two aspects of the same whole, like the dual moons overhead.