The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 13: The Blood We Bury

The cellar beneath the crypt groaned.

Dust fell from ancient beams. The stones that made up the floor shivered as if something beneath them had stirred stretched after a long, deliberate sleep.

Above, the wolves of the estate slept unaware.

But below?

Something crawled.

Its fingers were pale and jointless, bone wrapped in shadow. No heartbeat. No scent. No blood. Only hunger.

Ashriel’s first herald had awakened.

And it wanted the bond bearer.

Magnolia woke with a gasp.

She sat upright in her bed, sweat clinging to her skin, breath caught in her throat. The sheets were twisted around her legs. Her nightgown clung to her damp skin.

She looked to the window.

The moon was waning. A thin crescent hung like a blade in the sky.

Her chest hurt.

Not her heart.

The bond.

It was tightening. Pulsing. Like a heartbeat that wasn’t hers.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and winced.

Her left palm the one she’d plunged into the river was bleeding again.

Three thin lines had opened across her skin, weeping crimson.

And etched beneath them was something that hadn’t been there before.

A symbol.

The same sigil from the pact. The same serpent-and-flame that bound Camille.

Now it marked her too.

The estate hallways were quiet as she moved through them, barefoot, cloak around her shoulders. The stone floor was cold, but her blood ran colder.

She wasn’t going to Rhett.

Not this time.

He couldn’t help her with this.

She needed someone who knew the history before the bloodline wars. Before the Alpha council. Before the rise of the packs as they stood.

She needed Elara Winslow.

Elara lived in the east tower, surrounded by her tomes and relics, a self-imposed exile after the death of her mate twenty years ago. Few spoke to her. Fewer were welcomed past her threshold.

But Magnolia wasn’t anyone anymore.

She was the bond.

And Elara had always followed prophecy.

The door opened before she even knocked.

"I saw you in the runes," Elara said calmly, stepping aside.

Magnolia entered, her voice tight. "It’s starting, isn’t it?"

Elara’s room was a library carved into stone. Scrolls filled every surface, candles burned at uneven heights, and the scent of sage and wolf’s bane lingered in the air like smoke.

Elara motioned to a seat. "Let me see your hand."

Magnolia held it out.

Elara studied the symbol in silence. "The mark is not possession. It’s inheritance."

"What does that mean?"

"You’ve always been tied to it. The river was the first call. The forest answered. Now, the blood seals it."

"Camille "

" was the sacrifice."

Magnolia flinched.

Elara continued. "She was born first. But you were always the bond. The gate needed both. The one who opened it. And the one who could close it."

Magnolia swallowed. "And I’m the closer?"

Elara’s expression didn’t change. "If you’re strong enough."

"And if I’m not?"

"Then Ashriel walks free. And we burn."

When she left the tower, dawn had begun to break.

The estate below her buzzed with restless energy. Patrols doubled. Runners mounted. Smoke rose from chimneys not used in months.

Beckett met her halfway down the stone path.

"You look like hell."

"Then I look how I feel."

He fell in step beside her. "Rhett’s called a summit. The other territories have sent envoys. The Western Ridge, Black Hollow, Silverpine. Even Hollowfang."

"They think this is real now?"

"They think you’re dangerous enough to respect."

"That’s not the same as believing me."

"No," Beckett said. "But it’s close."

They reached the courtyard steps.

Then Beckett paused. "You should see something."

She followed him to the southern wall.

A scout’s body lay on the stone.

Not just dead desecrated.

His eyes were burned from his skull.

And scrawled into the flesh across his chest in deep, unnatural cuts was a message.

One vessel is not enough. The bond must break.

Magnolia stared at it. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Her throat tightened. "He knows I resisted the pact."

"He knows more than that," Beckett said. "He knows you’re hesitating."

The summit chamber hadn’t been used in years.

It echoed with the voices of old rivals. Alphas, Betas, legacy heirs all seated in a circle of stone, surrounded by their banners, their pride, their grudges.

Magnolia stood before them, hair braided back, the mark on her hand wrapped in linen.

But it throbbed beneath the cloth like a heartbeat buried too close to the surface.

Rhett stood beside her.

He didn’t speak first.

She did.

"You’ve all heard what’s happening. You’ve all lost scouts. Felt the pull in your blood. Dreamed of names you don’t speak."

Silence.

"The pact of Ashriel is not a story. It’s real. It’s old. And it’s unfinished. It tied itself to a child ten years ago. It’s finishing what it started."

One of the elders leaned forward. "And how do you intend to stop it?"

Magnolia unwrapped her hand.

Gasps followed.

The symbol gleamed faintly.

"I carry the bond," she said. "And I will carry it to the end."

Another Alpha rose. "You mean to bait him?"

"I mean to end him."

"And if you fail?"

She stared at him. "Then you’ll need someone stronger."

Rhett stepped forward. "We begin preparation. Tonight."

Someone scoffed. "The bond bearer is a female without a legacy."

"She has mine," Rhett said.

"And mine," Beckett added, stepping from the shadows.

Then one by one, others stood.

Celeste.

Ivy.

Even Soren Blackwood of Hollowfang.

Magnolia said nothing.

But her eyes burned.

And for the first time in ten years, she felt... not alone.

That night, she stood at the altar of the old Luna shrine.

Dressed in black.

Hands bare.

Wolf near the surface.

The others gathered in a circle, chanting the words written long before any of them were born.

Words that sealed the first pact.

Words that could now unbind it.

As the wind rose and the ground shook, a voice spoke behind her ear.

Not from a person.

From the mark on her hand.

You think you can seal me again?

She didn’t answer.

She dug her nails into her palm until blood dripped onto the stone.

And then, in the darkness behind her eyes, a door began to open.