Trophy Line Onyx Novels & Stories

"Let her get a splint. Nothing else. She must heal naturally and endure the pain." Ornyx got up. "I'm going to the front lines, these Silvercrest need to see a real werewolf in action." He looked at me casually. "When I get back," Ornyx nodded at the dagger. "I want alpha Tristan's heart in my tent. Delivered by my heir." My heart dropped as I realised what he had meant earlier. The dagger wasn't for me to use on myself. It was for me to use on Tristan. The ultimate show of allegiance.

“Congratulations on your win, Rena.” Alexander’s voice cut through the quiet of the room with the same calm bravado it always had. For a moment, Mirena simply stared at him. Her mind reeled for a second before it clicked. Fingers tightening around the trophy, she asked, flatly, “You own Onyx?” A familiar smug look crossed Alexander’s face, subtle but unmistakable. Then, his gaze flicked briefly to the trophy in her hand before returning to her eyes.

It wasn’t fully healed yet when we took a shower yesterday, and I was curious if it matched the silver moon and gold wolf on his neck. I crawled out of bed, and Orion reluctantly let me go once I told him the reason why. It was beautiful; the wolf on my neck wasn’t gold but almost silver, similar to Knox's fur, and the moon was gold. It was the same design, but the colors were reversed. “So, was it worth it leaving the warm bed and your charming mate?” Orion yelled from the bed. “Yes, Oreo. I love the mark. Now, before we start our day, maybe let’s call Erin? She’s usually taking a break around now.”

When he opened it, the gentle glow of a moonstone spilled out, illuminating the utter tenderness in his eyes. "Happy sixth anniversary, my Luna," he murmured. "The main stone is carved from moonstone mined from the Northlight Sacred Mines. There's only one like it in the world. Do you like it?" I smiled dryly, trying to look touched like I always did, but I couldn't. I lowered my head and let my hair hide my face. "Thanks… Put it on me?" Troy leaned over to fasten the necklace around my neck, but I caught a glimpse of a red lipstick mark on the inside of his collar. It stung like a blinding light.

Taylon did not hesitate. He threw open the heavy wooden door of the conservatory and sprinted into the corridor, his body blurring as he gave himself over to the shift. By the time his boots left the stone floor, he had transformed into the massive, midnight-black Alpha of the Onyxclaw line. Stay close, Taylon commanded through the mind-link, his mental voice vibrating with lethal intent.

No turning back now. I moved to the large oak table in the center of the room. The wooden box, simple yet ornate, was already there—Caden must’ve brought it. It was made of dark, polished mahogany, etched with ancient pack symbols. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, were three silver rings, each precisely crafted, cold and gleaming in the dim light. They were etched with the delicate curve of a crescent moon and the intricate, interwoven lines of our bloodline’s crest.

I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing fear crawl across my skin. A low murmur ripples through the crowd when I lift my chin higher. Let them look. Let them wonder if the traitor’s daughter still has enough bite to scar a king. “This one,” the auctioneer croons, voice dripping honey and poison, “is pure-blooded from the old Moonglade line. Untouched. Spirited. A Luna, if broken properly.” A thick chuckle rumbles somewhere to my left. A wolf in a velvet coat runs his tongue along his teeth like he’s already tasted me.

The box's lid creaked softly, releasing the scent of aged wood and memories. "Rosalind, this belonged to your father," Cathryn said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. As she opened the box, a faint glow emanated from within. Inside, a beautiful silver necklace lay coiled, adorned with a small, moonstone pendant. The stone pulsed softly, radiating a gentle, ethereal light. "Orion's mother crafted this," Cathryn explained, her fingers tracing the pendant's contours. "A symbol of our pack's lunar heritage."

Reporters shouted, cameras flashed wildly. Mira screamed and hugged her. Grey nodded at her with rare respect. Ronan’s dark eyes softened ... the tiniest inch, but enough to make her wolf’s heart skip. Scarlet stepped forward as they brought out the largest, most divine trophy ... a crystalline sculpture infused with silver fire. It was bigger than her torso. The announcer placed it in her hands. “For intelligence, leadership, precision, and unmatched performance.” The hall erupted again. Except for one corner. Liora’s parents shot to their feet like enraged animals. Her father’s voice boomed across the hall: