Page 7 of The Onyx Covenant (The Lunaterra Chronicles #2)

Chapter Five

THERON

A longside her friend, Lyra strolls to the bunkers, the blonde of her hair disappearing into the darkness of the tree line. She glances back in my direction, but there’s no reaction on her gorgeous face, and it fucking kills me.

My jaw clenches as I stroll after her until she reaches the stone building nestled farther behind the onyx building. Our home for tonight is a low and imposing structure—smooth gray walls gleaming under moonlight, carved with ancient runes. Two heavy ironwood doors stand side by side, sitting open, one marked with Elios’s crescent moon, the other with Umbra’s shadowed orb, designating the separate quarters for each pack. Narrow windows, more like arrow slits, pierce the stone.

Lyra pauses by her door, her slender fingers tracing one of the glowing runes etched into the stone. Even from this distance, I sense her hesitation and can see the tension in her shoulders before she disappears inside with a final glance in my direction. I linger close, remaining outside, desperate to drag her somewhere alone—just the two of us—to talk, to show her I’m not the asshole she thinks I am. Like old times.

Other participants from both packs file inside, chatting among themselves. No one spares me a glance, even though I know they’ve all been talking about Lyra and me.

Fuck . This all went to shit, didn’t it?

The binding wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but when I saw her standing there on the balcony in the capital, something primal and undeniable took over. The manacle activated before I could think it through.

Her face, when it happened, one of shock and devastation, is burned into my memory. Like I’d betrayed her all over again.

“Enjoying the night air?” Kieran pauses at my side near the bunkers, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

“Shut up.” I don’t take my eyes off the door she entered.

“Just saying, you could’ve given some warning before deciding to upend pack law and tradition.”

“It wasn’t exactly planned.”

“No shit.” He follows my gaze toward the tree line. “She looked ready to gut you where you stood.”

“She’ll learn to accept it.”

Kieran raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press. He’s one of the few who know pieces of what happened between Lyra and me—not everything, but enough to understand the weight of what I’ve done tonight.

“Don’t look now,” Kieran mutters. “But Daddy Dearest is coming, and he doesn’t look happy.”

“When does he ever?”

Kieran quickly heads inside.

My father’s hand clamps down on my shoulder like a steel trap, fingers digging into muscle hard enough to leave bruises. Without a word, he steers me to the edge of the bunker, where there are no windows. I could resist—part of me wants to—but causing a scene would only make things worse.

“You’ve created a real fucking mess!” His voice is a low growl, and his crimson eyes are gleaming.

“The binding is done,” I say, keeping my voice level, not wanting anyone to hear us. “The Covenant accepted it.”

“The Covenant,” he spits the word like poison, “is composed of idealistic fools who believe in peace and unity.” He steps closer, the bone beads in his braids clicking together like death rattles. “I raised you better than this. Trained you to be a leader, not some Elios-loving weakling who binds himself to the enemy.”

“The packs weren’t always enemies,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

His eyes narrow dangerously. “What did you say to me?”

“Nothing.” Too late to take it back, but too dangerous to elaborate. The journals hidden beneath my floorboards contain truths my mother discovered that would get me killed if he knew I’d discovered them.

“Nothing,” he repeats, mockery dripping from the word. “Just like your pathetic excuses for why you bound yourself to that Elios bitch.”

My hands curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms to keep from striking him. “Don’t call her that.”

A cruel smile spreads across his face. “Ah, there it is. The real reason. You actually care for her.” He laughs, the sound devoid of any warmth. “Just like your mother—weak for anything with a pretty face and Elios blood.”

The mention of my mother sends ice through my veins. “Leave her out of this.”

“Why? She left herself out years ago, didn’t she? Escaped into the night without a trace, only for me to discover she was seeing a fucking Elios man behind my back. Then she disappeared… that same pack she adored would have killed her for breaking the law.” He leans closer, his breath hot against my face.

I don’t look away. I let him see the fury in my eyes when he brings up my mother. He does it to provoke me. He always fucking does. The bastard knows exactly where to cut. How can I blame her for running when she was shackled to my father in a marriage she never chose? But he does—he blames her for leaving, for disappearing, for breaking the image of the perfect little family. Claims she was murdered, as though that’s easier to believe than the truth. But they never found a body. Just silence. And it screams louder than any lie he tells.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he whispers, his voice low and venomous, glancing over his shoulder like the walls might be listening. “The first night of the ritual, when the little blonde priestess is asleep and dreaming of gods who’ll never save her, you’re going to end her. Slit her throat. Snap her neck. Hell, push her off a fucking cliff if that’s what it takes. I don’t care how you do it. Just make sure she doesn’t see the morning.”

Rage explodes through me, hot and volatile.

“Do you understand me?” His eyes lock on mine, blazing with ruthless intent. “I will not let your bleeding heart destroy everything we’ve built. We didn’t claw our way to the top of the food chain just to lose it all because you hesitated.” He leans closer. “The only reason our pack survives the dead of winter with full bellies is because we own the Onyx Covenant. Because we take what we need without apology. And now you’re gambling all of it—our future—because you can’t bring yourself to kill one pretty little girl?”

My vision edges as I fight to keep my wolf contained. The audacity—to order me to murder her, to speak of her like she’s nothing but an obstacle.

“You dare?” I growl, voice dropping to a dangerous timbre that causes even my father to tense. “You speak of pack power while ordering me to kill my bound partner?”

His lip curls. “Grow up. Do your fucking duty. Or I’ll find someone who will.”

I step closer, towering over the man who raised me to be his weapon. For the first time, I see a flicker of uncertainty in his crimson eyes. Good. Let him fear what he’s created.

“I am not your attack dog, Father.” The title tastes bitter on my tongue. “And Lyra is not your sacrifice. This binding happened for a reason. Maybe it’s time our packs stopped circling each other like wounded predators.”

His face twists with disgust. “You sound like a lovesick pup, not the Alpha heir of Umbra. She’s made you weak.”

“She’s made me see.” I match his stare, refusing to back down. “Everything you’ve taught me about power and control, it’s all fear. Fear dressed as strength.”

The shadows around us deepen as my father’s anger manifests in tendrils of darkness. Let him try to intimidate me. I am done cowering.

“You will do as I command,” he hisses.

The wolf inside me roars, desperate to protect what’s mine, but I’ve learned from a lifetime under my father’s rule. Showing my hand now would only endanger her further.

“Then you’re not the son I raised. And I have no use for disappointments in my bloodline.”

“You’ve made your position clear,” I say, voice flat. “Is that all?”

“For now.” His eyes narrow. “But remember, boy… I’m watching.” He turns and marches away.

Fury and fear are warring for dominance inside me. The one thing I don’t feel is regret. Whatever comes next, binding myself to Lyra was the right choice—the only choice.

“Well, that looked pleasant.” Kieran emerges from the doorway farther down the building. “Still breathing, I see.”

“Fuck him.”

“What did the mighty Magnus want?” Kieran moves closer. “Besides your head on a spike, that is.”

“He wants me to kill her.”

Kieran stumbles, catching himself quickly. “Fuck. He actually said that? In those words?”

“Yep.”

“That psychotic fuck!” Kieran’s face hardens. “Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognize from years of friendship—something he does when strategizing. “So, what’s the plan? We still continuing with ours?”

“Nothing’s changed.” I glance back at the Covenant building, its obsidian walls gleaming in the moonlight. “We find the proof, we expose him, we end this.”

“Except now your father’s actively trying to murder your ritual partner and, by extension, you.” Kieran’s voice drops lower as we approach the entrance. “And let’s not forget that she probably wants to murder you.”

I let out a dry chuckle. “Never had so many people lining up to take my head.” With a loud exhale, I shift gears, tired of circling the topic of my death. “Anyway… you never told me who you chose as your partner?”

“Rachel.” He grins. “She’s solid in a fight and hot to look at.” He winks.

“Better than solid,” I correct, remembering the fierce Umbra female who nearly took down three opponents single-handedly in last year’s combat trials. “She’s lethal with those twin blades.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all bind ourselves to blonde priestesses and cause pack-wide scandals.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “Some of us have to settle for partners who might actually help us survive.”

Movement catches my eye—a flash of platinum blonde hair and lithe, lethal grace. Selene, the female my father had all but promised would be my partner. The best fighter among Umbra females, ruthless and cunning, with a particular talent for making deaths look like accidents. She stands with her newly chosen champion, Erebus Shade, but her ice-blue eyes are fixed on me, promising retribution.

“Selene looks ready to flay you alive with her fingernails,” Kieran murmurs.

“She’d have to get in line.” I touch the scar over my collarbone—a souvenir from a previous encounter with Selene’s particular brand of affection. “Besides, she’s dangerous but predictable. I’m more concerned about my father’s next move.”

“You should be concerned about all of it,” Kieran says bluntly. “Especially if half our own pack wants you dead.”

“And the other half is just waiting to see which side wins,” I add grimly.

As Selene and Erebus approach the doorway, they give their best hard stares.

“Welcome to the Harvest Ritual,” Kieran suddenly declares with exaggerated formality. “May the worthy rise and all that shit.”

“Fuck you,” Selene barks.

“Such eloquence,” Kieran replies, clutching his chest. “Your way with words truly brings tears to my eyes, Selene.”

Erebus, towering over even me, narrows his dark eyes. “Save your breath for tomorrow, jester. You’ll need it when I leave you in the dust.”

“Oh, please,” Kieran scoffs, leaning casually against the stone wall. “The last time you tried to outrun me, you tripped over your own feet and face-planted into a thornbush. Still have the scratches, or did Selene kiss them better?”

Selene’s eyes flash dangerously. “Save your pathetic trash talk.”

“At least I’m loyal to my pack,” Erebus fires back, glancing pointedly at me, knowing Selene desperately wanted me to pick her, but she ended up with him. And that I brought Lyra into the challenge.

“They’re just intimidated by my superior skills.” Kieran waves dismissively. “Something you wouldn’t understand.”

Despite everything, I feel my lips twitch into the ghost of a smile. The animosity between them is as amusing as it is predictable—pack mates who’d die for each other in a heartbeat but would also happily trip each other during a race.

“Coming inside, traitor?” Erebus directs at me, ignoring Kieran entirely. “Or are you camping outside to be closer to your… pathetic choice of partner?”

“Don’t worry about his choices,” Kieran interjects before I can respond. “Worry about yours. Like that haircut—who convinced you that was a good idea? A blind squirrel?”

Erebus growls low in his throat, but Selene tugs him through the doorway before he can escalate further.

Kieran claps a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get some rest. We’ll need it.”

I nod, following him through the heavy wooden door marked with Umbra’s symbol. The narrow hallway is dimly lit with torches that cast long, dancing shadows across the rough stone walls. The air smells of pine resin and perspiration, a combination that makes my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin.

We emerge into the main chamber, where the rest of our pack is already claiming beds. Ten simple pallet beds line the walls—five for Alphas, five for their Omegas. Except in our case, there’s one bed that will remain empty tonight.

My gaze falls on it, and the reality of my situation lingers in my thoughts. While every other champion will sleep with their Omega nearby, mine is in the next room with her pack.

I move to the bed farthest from the door but closest to the wall.

Kieran gives me a knowing look as he claims the bed beside mine. “Try not to brood all night,” he murmurs. “Your face might get stuck that way.”

I ignore him, stretching out on the thin mattress and staring at the ceiling. The stone is etched with ancient patterns that seem to swirl and dance in the torchlight—moon cycles, wolf packs running through endless forests, the eternal dance of Elios and Umbra across the night sky.

My father’s words echo in my mind… Slit her throat. Snap her neck. Hell, push her off a fucking cliff if that’s what it takes. I don’t care how you do it. Just make sure she doesn’t see the morning.

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of what lies ahead.

When the Harvest Ritual begins tomorrow, nothing will be the same again. Not for me, not for Lyra, and not for the two packs who have spent generations keeping us apart.

Let them all come for me. Let them try.