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Chapter 228: The Argument
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2026-06-18 00:01:31
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The Obsidian Covenant #1: The Rejected Mate's Ruin Chapter 230: The Referendum
POV: Neoma SolsticeHope was a digital counter ticking upward.Neoma stared at the holographic projection hovering above the central table. Her eyes burned, dry and gritty from hours of not blinking enough.A low, persistent hum from the server banks vibrated through the soles of her boots, travelling up her shins to settle as a buzz in her knees."Current tally: 12%," Wolfy stated. His voice was flat, stripped of inflection, but the scent of ozone radiating from him was sharp enough to taste. He tapped a key. "Time remaining: Four hours."Neoma gripped the edge of the metal table. The steel was cold, biting into her palms. She focused on that sensation—the bite of the edge—to keep her nausea down. Her stomach felt hollow, as if she had swallowed a stone that was slowly dissolving into acid."It’s not enough," Viggo rumbled from the shadows. He wasn't pacing. He was standing perfectly still, his muscles coiled so tight they looked like carved wood. A vein in his neck pulsed—once, twic
The Obsidian Covenant #1: The Rejected Mate's Ruin Chapter 229: The Call to Arms
POV: Barzil AshfangA speech wasn't about words. It was about belief. And belief was a physical weight, pressing down on Barzil’s shoulders until his trapezius muscles burned.He stood in the shadows of the broadcast array, his arms crossed over his chest. The metal of his bracers bit into his biceps.The room smelled of ozone, overheated cooling units, and the sour, metallic tang of Wolfy’s anxiety. Every fan in the server banks hummed a low, vibrating note that rattled Barzil’s teeth.Neoma stood ten feet away.She looked too small for the stage. The holographic emitters surrounded her like a cage of blue light. She wore no armor today. No crown. Just a simple tunic of grey weave, the kind a Dregs scavenger would wear.Wolfy tapped a console. "Global link established. We are live on all frequencies. Citadel. Apex. The Wastes. Every screen, every datapad, every hearing aid."Neoma nodded. Her hands were at her sides. Barzil saw her fingers twitch—a spasm of the ulnar nerve. She was t
The Obsidian Covenant #1: The Rejected Mate's Ruin Chapter 228: The Argument
POV: Neoma SolsticeConvincing an enemy was easy. Convincing a lover was war.Neoma stood in the center of the room. Her knees locked to keep her upright. A tremor started in her calves, vibrating up her thighs, settling as a sick, heavy weight in her stomach. The air in the room was hot, suffocating, smelling of distressed ozone and the copper tang of Viggo’s rising aggression."No."Viggo didn't say the word; he threw it. He paced the small space, four steps, turn, four steps, turn. His hands were fists, knuckles white, the tendons in his forearms pulling tight like steel cables under the skin."We find another way," he growled. The sound rumbled deep in his chest, a physical vibration that rattled Neoma’s teeth. "We fight. We kill the fragments. We don't... we don't plug you into a planetary socket and hope you don't fry.""There is no other way, Viggo." Neoma’s voice scraped her throat, dry and raw. She swallowed, but her mouth produced no saliva. "Wolfy ran the numbers."She look
The Obsidian Covenant #1: The Rejected Mate's Ruin Chapter 227: The Risk
POV: Viggo He didn't care about the moon. He cared about the girl.Viggo paced the length of the stone room. Four steps. Turn. Four steps. Turn. With every pivot, the muscles in his thighs bunched tight, hard as cable wire. A low, vibrating growl started in his diaphragm and rumbled up his throat, trapped behind clenched teeth.The air in the room tasted stale, recycled, and sour with the scent of Guller’s anxiety—like wet ash. But it was Wolfy’s calm, clinical voice that made the veins in Viggo’s neck throb."The energy transfer is theoretically possible," Wolfy was saying, pointing at a hologram of the orbital mechanics. "If the flow is regulated—""Regulated?" Viggo didn't speak the word; he spat it.He stopped pacing. He slammed his fist into the stone wall. The impact jarred his shoulder, a sharp, white flash of pain that felt better than the crushing weight in his chest. Dust trickled down the masonry."You're talking about running a star through a lightbulb, Wolfy," Viggo snar
The Obsidian Covenant #1: The Rejected Mate's Ruin Chapter 226: The Third Path
POV: Wolfy The math was impossible. The variable was faith. And Wolfy didn't believe in faith.He stood before the main terminal, the blue light of the holographic display biting into his retinas. His eyes burned, dry and gritty, as if he had rubbed them with sand.He blinked, but the stinging persisted. Inside his skull, a headache tightened like a garrote wire, pulsing in sync with the hum of the cooling fans."Wolfy?" Neoma’s voice. Soft. Too soft.He didn't turn. He couldn't. If he looked at her, the equation would fall apart."I’m running Guller’s hypothesis," Wolfy said. His voice scraped against his throat, dry from hours of silence. He typed a command.The hologram shifted, red lines simulating orbital trajectories. "Scenario A: Impact. 100% extinction. Scenario B: Void Consumption. Neoma attempts to eat the mass. Result: She detonates. 100% extinction."He paused, his fingers hovering over the glass interface. They were trembling. A fine, high-frequency tremor that traveled
The Obsidian Covenant #1: The Rejected Mate's Ruin Chapter 225: The Prophecy Revealed
POV: Guller The truth was a knife. And to save them, Guller had to twist it.He stood before the holographic table, his hands gripping the metal edge until his knuckles turned the color of old bone.A headache pulsed behind his left eye—a rhythmic, sharp throb that synced with the red light bleeding in from the balcony. The Blood Moon hung low in the sky outside, a bruised and swollen eye staring down at the city they had just finished saving."Say it, Guller."Neoma’s voice was quiet, but it cut through the hum of the projectors. She sat at the head of the table, her skin pale, the violet in her eyes dim. She was exhausted. They all were. The war with Nergal had ended only weeks ago, and the smell of ozone and dried blood still seemed to cling to the air recyclers.Guller swallowed. His throat felt lined with sandpaper. He looked at them—his pack. Barzil, standing like a statue at Neoma's right, hand resting on the pommel of a sword he no longer needed to use. Wolfy, tapping a rhyth
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