Page 3 of The Onyx Covenant (The Lunaterra Chronicles #2)

Chapter Two

LYRA

One Week Later

D awn unfurls lazy fingers across the Eclipsia forest, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, which would be beautiful if I gave a damn about sunrises anymore. I’ve been up for hours, slipping out of my home while the rest of the pack still slept, my muscles sore and my mind restless. Sleep hasn’t come easy in the year since that night by the river. Since him .

The Forest Sanctuary lies three miles from our settlement, a natural clearing surrounded by boulders that rise from the ground like the spines of ancient beasts. It’s our place, mine and Aria’s, where we can be ourselves away from judging eyes and traditional expectations.

I stretch, feeling the pleasant burn in my arms and legs from an hour of warm-ups. The morning air carries the scent of pine and damp earth, clean and crisp in my lungs. This is the only time I feel anything close to peace anymore—when my body is in motion, and my mind is too occupied with survival to dwell on anything else.

“You’re distracted today,” Aria calls from atop the largest boulder, her lithe form silhouetted against the rising sun. Wind whips her light chestnut hair across her face, strands sticking to the sheen of sweat along her brow. She pulls at the fitted leather gear that clings to her like a second skin, scuffed and dirt-streaked from their earlier sparring. A wicked grin curves her lips as she balances effortlessly, poised. “I could have taken your head off twice already.”

“In your dreams.” I snort, tightening the straps around my wrists. My loose pants and shirt make it easy to tuck the leather bands into my pockets, hidden from my parents’ prying eyes.

Aria leaps down, landing with the grace our kind is known for. Unlike me, she doesn’t hide her combat training. She’s a Nightblade—one of the elite scouts who patrol our borders and gather intelligence on Umbra movements. Her father is my father’s second-in-command, making her practically royalty in our pack hierarchy, second only to me.

Not that rank matters out here. Between these ancient stones, we’re just two Elios pack members learning to survive in a world designed to break us.

“Ready for round two?” she asks, cracking her knuckles with a grin that shows too many teeth. “Or do you need a moment to compose elegies to your mysterious lost love?”

“Fuck off,” I growl, but there’s no heat in it. Aria is the only one who knows about that night, though even she doesn’t know who broke my heart. Just that someone did, and that I crossed the river to find him. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with your best friend.

She tosses me a fighting staff—smooth ash wood, weighted at both ends. I catch it automatically, twirling it once to feel its balance. We’ve been training with weapons for months now, ever since I convinced her that priestess prayers wouldn’t be enough if I ever faced a real threat.

“Come on, Moon Dancer,” she taunts, using the childhood nickname I’ve grown to hate. “Show me what those delicate priestess hands can do.”

I lunge without warning, staff whistling through the air toward her midsection. She blocks, the crack of wood against wood echoing across the clearing. The impact vibrates up my arms, but I don’t hesitate, pivoting to strike at her legs.

Aria leaps over the swing, laughing. “Better! But still too predictable.”

We fall into a familiar twirl, trading blows and blocks, feet moving across the moss-covered ground in patterns we’ve practiced a thousand times. Aria is stronger than me—all corded muscle and natural power—but I’m faster, more precise. What I lack in brute force, I make up for in technique.

“Heard anything about Orion lately?” I ask casually, ducking under a swing that would have connected with my shoulder.

Aria’s rhythm falters for just a heartbeat, enough for me to tap my staff against her ribs.

“Point,” I announce, grinning at her scowl.

“Low blow,” she mutters, stepping back to reset our positions.

“All’s fair in combat,” I remind her, echoing the words she’s said to me countless times. “Besides, you’re the one who can’t stop talking about him.”

Orion Blaze—my father’s most promising young warrior and Aria’s not-so-secret obsession for the past year. He’s handsome enough, I suppose, if you like the brooding, serious type. All sharp angles and intense stares, with a reputation for being utterly dedicated to pack protection.

Aria attacks again, her movements more aggressive now.

“I saw him swimming in the northern lake yesterday,” she admits between strikes. “Alone.”

I raise an eyebrow, blocking her assault. “Spying on him now? That’s not creepy at all.”

“It was reconnaissance,” she insists, feinting left before striking right. I predict the move and counter, but she’s ready, hooking my staff with hers and nearly wrenching it from my grip. “Besides, someone has to appreciate the view.”

“And?” I prompt, dancing backward to create space. “Was the view worth your stalker tendencies?”

A flush creeps up her neck, visible even against her sun-kissed skin. “Let’s just say the Goddess blessed him generously.”

We both burst into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt and your guard drop. Which is exactly when Aria sweeps my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, air rushing from my lungs, the tip of her staff at my throat before I can blink.

“Point,” she says sweetly. “Never let your guard down, priestess.”

I knock her staff aside with the back of my hand. “Cheater.”

“Survivor,” she corrects, offering me a hand up. I take it, then use her momentum to flip her over my shoulder. She lands with a thud and a curse that would make even the most hardened warrior blush.

“Survivor,” I echo, standing over her with my own staff now pointed at her chest.

Aria stares up at me for a moment, then breaks into a wide grin. “You’re learning. Good.”

I help her up, and we move to sit on one of the smaller boulders that edge the clearing. The sun has fully risen now, bathing the forest in golden light that dapples through the canopy above. Sweat cools on my skin as I take a long drink from my waterskin.

“What about you?” Aria asks after a comfortable silence. “It’s been a year since you met that gorgeous, mysterious guy you barely told me anything about. How come you haven’t seen him again?”

I shrug. “I guess life happened. He went his own way. I went mine.”

“Life happened?” Aria arches a brow. “That’s it? No lingering glances or wistful letters penned by candlelight?”

I laugh, though it comes out flat. “Please. He wasn’t exactly the write-me-poetry type.”

“Still…” Aria leans in, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “You liked him.”

“Maybe.” I pause, my smile fading. “But liking someone doesn’t mean they’ll stick around.” The memory is bitter, but I’ve had plenty of practice telling myself to move on. “Besides, you know my father. He’d go ballistic if I showed interest in anyone he hasn’t personally vetted and found worthy of his precious daughter.”

Aria makes a sympathetic noise, but her facial expression is too knowing for comfort. She sees more than I want her to—always has.

The truth is, I still wake from dreams of silvery eyes and promises whispered against my skin. Still feel phantom touches on nights when the moon is high and my defenses are low. Still hate myself for it.

“Your mother’s been dropping hints,” Aria says, twisting a lock of brown hair around her finger. “About you needing to choose soon.”

I roll my eyes, though anxiety curls in my stomach. “I’m aware. Apparently, at nineteen, I’m practically ancient. On the verge of spinsterhood.”

“You’re the Alpha’s daughter. His only heir. They want to secure the bloodline.”

“I know what they want,” I snap, then take a breath. “Sorry. It’s just… I’m more than a broodmare for the continuation of some pure bloodline.”

Aria bumps her shoulder against mine. “Hey, I get it. That’s why we’re out here, right?”

I nod, gazing up at the sky where the Elios moon still hangs faintly visible despite the morning light—strong and unwavering, just like the stories say. Around it, a few other moons linger lower on the horizon, their pale forms barely visible, distant and quiet. None shine like Elios or cast the heavy shadow of Umbra, but they’re there, the silent watchers of our planet, Lunaterra. There are thirteen moons in all.

“I respect what my mother does, bless her,” I say quietly. “The moon priestesses have kept our traditions alive for generations. They say Elios is the protector, the moon that never falters, always guiding the strongest warriors. That’s why the priestesses focus on this moon in our district, which comes so close to our land. The light keeps the shadows at bay.”

I pause, watching the faintest flicker of another moon disappear behind a stretch of clouds.

“My parents always believed I’d follow that path. Said it was fitting since they’d named me Lyra after the Daughter Sun herself.” I smile faintly. “I used to believe that, too.” My gaze drifts back to Elios. “My faith’s still strong,” I add, almost defensively. “But lately… I don’t know. The passion just isn’t there anymore, not like it used to be.”

Aria snorts softly. “Yeah, well… endless lessons on healing magic and cryptic prophecies would kill anyone’s excitement.”

“I want to be able to defend myself, not rely on others for protection.” I pick up a small stone and turn it over in my hands, feeling its rough edges. “I want choices.”

Aria’s face tilts toward the sun. “And you’re good at fighting, Lyra. Really good. You could join the Nightblades.”

The thought makes me laugh out loud. “Can you imagine my father’s face if I told him that? His head would explode.”

“It might be worth it just to see?—”

A howl cuts through the morning air—deep and resonant, the Alpha’s call demanding attention. It’s the signal for all wolves to return to the main settlement immediately.

Aria and I exchange glances. “Shit,” she mutters, already gathering her things. “What now?”

“Could be anything. Community hunt. Pack meeting.” I shrug, but unease prickles along my spine. The call came early, even by my father’s standards.

We make quick work of hiding my training weapons in a hollow beneath the largest boulder. Can’t have evidence of my unladylike activities floating around. The priestesses would have a collective fit if they knew their prized pupil was learning to fight instead of perfecting her healing prayers.

“Race you back?” Aria suggests, eyes glinting with challenge.

I grin, already dropping into a runner’s stance. “Loser takes the winner’s temple duties for a week.”

“Deal. On three. One?—”

I’m already running, her shout following me into the trees. Fighting dirty isn’t just for physical combat.

The forest blurs around me. I could navigate these woods blindfolded, each root and fallen log mapped in my memory. The wind whips my hair behind me, and for a few precious moments, I feel free, unbound by expectations and heartbreak and duty.

Aria catches up halfway back, her longer legs giving her an advantage once she gets going. We’re neck and neck as our village comes into view, its stone structures gleaming in the morning light.

She pulls ahead in the final stretch.

“I’ll win next time,” I pant.

“Keep telling yourself that, priestess,” she calls back, slowing as we approach the settlement’s edge.

We compose ourselves before entering, smoothing our hair and adjusting our clothes to look like we’ve been doing anything but fighting. Aria’s path takes her toward the Nightblades’ quarters, while I need to rush back into my family’s home unnoticed.

“See you at whatever this gathering is,” she says, giving me a quick hug. “And, Lyra? Maybe give your father a chance. He might be more reasonable than you think.”

I snort. “You give him too much credit. See you soon.”

The central plaza is already filling with wolves answering the summons as I make my way along the back paths toward my home. I’m nearly there when a voice stops me cold.

“Lyra Mooncrest.”

I turn slowly, my heart sinking. My mother is in the doorway, arms crossed over her blue ceremonial robes, her expression one of disappointment. Behind her, our house stands taller than others in the village, the heavy stone archway carved with old runes that mark my family’s status as the Alpha’s bloodline.

“Morning,” I say, aiming for innocence.

“Where have you been at this hour?” she asks, though the question is clearly rhetorical. She knows I wasn’t in my bed, as she would have checked. Before I can fabricate an excuse, my father appears behind her, his imposing figure filling the doorway.

Alpha of the Elios pack, he’s not a man who tolerates disobedience, especially from his only child. His white hair is pulled back in the traditional warrior’s braid. His pale blue eyes—so unlike my lavender ones, which I inherited from my mother—narrow as they take in my appearance.

“Inside,” he snaps, the single word carrying all the authority of his position.

I catch a glimpse of Aria slipping away through the gathering crowd, offering me a sympathetic grimace before disappearing. Traitor.

The door closes behind me with finality. Our home is larger than most in Wolfhaven—a sprawling stone structure with multiple rooms and ancient magic humming in its walls. The main room, where we now stand, features a currently cold central hearth, as the summer heat makes fires unnecessary.

“You were told to be ready,” Father says without preamble. “We discussed this last moon. The Royal Wedding is at the capital of Solmane tomorrow. And today, they are holding the United Houses Luncheon.”

Oh. Shit.

Memory rushes back—a conversation I’d deliberately buried because I had no intention of complying. The United Houses Luncheon… a matchmaking circus disguised as diplomacy.

“I thought I made it clear I wasn’t going,” I say, lifting my chin in defiance.

“We’re not going there to marry you off, dear,” Mother cuts in, her voice smooth but laced with warning. “We’re going to pay our respects and meet the other families. That’s all.”

I snort. “Right. Because dragging me to a room full of preening nobles and their desperate heirs just happens to be about respect.”

“We can’t just skip it,” she counters, her smile tight. “Especially with the Beast Prince finding a bride, and tomorrow is his Royal Wedding. The Hunter’s Eclipse is set to only pass over Solmane country during the ceremony. That’s a rare blessing, one we can’t afford to ignore.”

The Hunter’s Eclipse… the last time Lunaterra passed between Avarix and Lyra, blocking the Daughter Sun’s light, its shadow had stretched across Solmane alone then, too. Yet the First Moon’s shadow had been felt across the entire planet.

“We’re expected to be there,” Father adds. “The pack can’t appear weak. This is about more than just you.”

“More than me?” I bark out a laugh. “You mean you’re hoping I can snare some pompous heir to strengthen us against Umbra’s pack. Admit it. I’m the prize.”

Father’s face darkens, but Mother’s silence has me regretting my outburst.

“You should change,” she says instead. “We’re leaving within the hour.”

Father’s jaw tightens. “That’s not a request, Lyra. It was an order. As Alpha, I am required to attend, and as my heir, so are you.”

Mother steps forward, her expression softening. “Lyra, please. This is important.”

A sigh rolls past my lips.

“Get dressed. Pack for three days,” Father states. “The portal from the capital awaits. I’m going to announce it to the village.”

He strides from the room, leaving Mother and me in uncomfortable silence.

“I know you don’t want to go,” she says after a moment. “But our family presence matters.” She gives me a small rub on my arm, and I don’t miss the tightness around her mouth. These social gatherings are painful, and I hate them.

When she’s gone, I rush to my room and sink onto my bed, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes until spots dance behind my eyelids.

I don’t want to go for one main reason…

Theron will be there.

I’m going to be sick.

Probably his betrothed, the beautiful woman in red alongside him, attending the wedding.

I thought I was over him. Thought I’d excised him from my heart like poison from a wound. But the mere possibility of seeing him again has my pulse racing and my stomach aching.

“Pathetic,” I whisper to the empty room. “Still not over him after a year.”

Eventually, I rise, moving to where my ceremonial robes lie spread across a wooden chest.

Perfect for the role I need to play—Lyra Mooncrest, daughter of the Alpha, priestess in training, unclaimed Omega, perfect Elios princess. Not Lyra, who crosses rivers for forbidden kisses. Not Lyra, who trains in secret to fight her own battles. Not Lyra, who still dreams of silver eyes and broken promises.

I will see Theron Shadowmane again soon. And when I do, I’ll show him exactly what he lost, what he threw away for his father’s approval and an Umbra bride.

I’ll show him a wolf who doesn’t need him. A wolf who has forgotten him. A wolf who could destroy him without a second thought.

Even if every word of it is a lie.