The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond
Chapter 115: The Breach

Chapter 115: The Breach

"Form ranks! Watch the tree line!"

The east woods stretched before them, gnarled trunks rising from wet earth, wrapped in tendrils of morning fog that seemed to pulse unnaturally.

Beckett rushed to his side, eyes wide. "They’re close, Alpha. Within a hundred yards."

"How many?"

"At least thirty. Maybe more."

Rhett’s jaw tightened. "Mercenaries?"

Beckett shook his head. "Not mercenaries. Not pack, either. I don’t know what they are."

The mist thickened, moving like fingers sliding between the trunks.

Rhett’s sharp eyes scanned the haze. "They’re not coming to negotiate."

Beckett’s voice dropped. "Gabriel is with them."

Rhett barely contained his growl. Gabriel—the Elder’s snake. It was always him.

The fog parted slightly as shapes emerged—tall figures in dark, cloaked armor. Their faces were masked, wolf crests etched into black metal. Silent. Predatory.

But it was what moved behind them that made the hair on Rhett’s arms stand on end.

A cold, pulsing presence. A humming like distant drums vibrating through the ground. The very air tasted metallic.

The Elder’s power. He was close.

Beckett whispered, "They’re forcing Camille’s awakening."

Rhett’s voice was ice. "Not here. Not today."

He stepped forward, raising his voice. "You have no authority on this land! Withdraw now, and I won’t spill blood."

The fog shifted again as Gabriel himself stepped through, smiling like a man who already held victory in his hand. His pale eyes gleamed under the hood.

"Always so noble, young Alpha." His voice was smooth, mocking. "But you delay what cannot be stopped."

"My father has no claim here."

"He has claim on her."

"You won’t touch her."

Gabriel’s grin widened. "She calls for us. You feel it, don’t you? The bond weakening. The fire growing. Every moment you hesitate, she draws closer to us."

Rhett’s men tightened their ranks, growls rumbling beneath their breath.

Gabriel’s gaze swept over them, amused. "You cannot protect her from herself. None of you can."

Rhett took one more step forward, his voice low, steady. "If you cross this line, Gabriel, I will break you."

The fog thickened like breath coiling around their legs. A sharp pulse of energy rippled through the ground. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled—a chorus of warning.

Gabriel raised his hand.

His soldiers stepped forward.

Rhett’s voice cut through the rising growls. "Hold!"

The front lines tightened. Weapons rose, ready but waiting.

Gabriel’s smile faded slightly as he studied Rhett’s stillness. "You’re hoping I force your hand. You want an excuse to strike."

Rhett’s voice was cold steel. "You’ve already given me one."

Gabriel tilted his head. "And yet, you hesitate."

The wind shifted, curling around them. In the silence that followed, a sound carried from behind the estate walls.

A scream.

High. Raw.

Camille.

The sound froze every heart in place. Even Gabriel’s smug smile twitched.

Rhett’s pulse slammed through his ears. "Beckett—secure the inner court!"

"Yes, Alpha!"

Gabriel’s eyes gleamed. "You’re too late."

The masked soldiers lunged forward.

Rhett’s command snapped like a whip. "Hold the line!"

The courtyard exploded into violence.

Steel clashed against steel, claws ripped into flesh, growls and screams blending into one chaotic orchestra of war.

The Elder’s men moved like shadows, their strikes precise and unnatural, as though driven by something beyond mortal discipline.

Rhett tore through them with raw fury. His wolf surged beneath his skin, muscles tight, senses sharpened. Every movement was deliberate, lethal. His blade arced clean through one soldier’s neck, spraying dark blood into the mist.

But for every one that fell, another replaced them.

Gabriel weaved through the battle, untouched, his voice chanting in an ancient tongue as glowing sigils flared beneath his feet.

The ground pulsed again. The storm within the estate walls was rising.

Rhett cut a path toward him, voice thundering above the fray. "You won’t take her!"

Gabriel’s chant rose louder. "The vessel opens. The bond cracks. The Ash Blood awakens."

Suddenly, a blast of heat rippled outward from the manor. A bright, searing flash illuminated the sky like false sunrise.

The fog ignited at the edges.

All eyes turned toward the estate.

Toward Camille.

The war had only just begun.

"Camille!" she cried, her boots skidding across the polished floor.

She burst through the double doors leading into Camille’s chamber, nearly colliding with Celeste who stood near the edge of a glowing circle burned into the floorboards.

The air vibrated.

Camille floated above her bed, her small frame rigid, arms spread wide. Her black hair whipped around her like silk caught in invisible currents, while the pale skin along her arms shimmered faintly under thin veins of glowing red.

Her eyes were fully consumed now—glowing, unblinking orbs of burning crimson.

Celeste chanted under her breath, her hands weaving intricate sigils in the air, the markings flashing blue for brief seconds before fading against the overpowering red pulsing from Camille.

"She’s slipping!" Celeste shouted, barely holding her composure. "The wards won’t hold much longer!"

Magnolia staggered forward. "What’s happening to her?"

Celeste’s voice was tight, breathless. "The Elder’s forces are feeding it. They’re pushing from the outside—triggering the final phase. The Ash Child wants to emerge fully."

Camille’s body convulsed violently, and for a brief moment, a voice that was hers—a voice of terrified clarity—slipped through the ancient tongue spilling from her lips.

"Magnolia... help me..."

"I’m here, baby. I’m here," Magnolia whispered, tears burning as she reached her hand forward, though the heat forced her to stop inches away.

The floor beneath Camille cracked, thin fractures spiraling outward like spiderwebs on ice.

Celeste’s chanting faltered. The old protective spell was crumbling.

"Her core is splitting," Celeste gasped. "The blood’s pulling her apart."

A deep vibration hummed from the walls. Dust rained from the ceiling beams.

Then came the voices.

Dozens. Hundreds. Whispering. Chanting. Not in any language born of this world. They filled the room, surrounding them, crawling beneath Magnolia’s skin.

Camille’s head snapped upward. Her voice boomed—not a scream this time, but a single, terrifying declaration.

"The vessel breaks! The Ash Child lives!"

Suddenly the heat receded like a held breath.

Camille’s body dropped from the air, collapsing hard onto the bed.

Magnolia rushed forward instantly, pulling her sister into her arms. Camille’s breathing was ragged, shallow. The red in her eyes flickered but did not fully fade.

"Stay with me," Magnolia pleaded. "Please, stay with me."

Camille’s voice was small, a broken whisper against her sister’s ear.

"I’m... losing..."

Magnolia rocked her gently, her tears falling freely. "No. You’re still here. I’ve got you."

Celeste knelt beside them, her face pale. "The Ash Blood is fully active. She’s at the brink now."

Magnolia shook her head. "There must be another way."

Celeste’s expression darkened. "If she breaks again—truly breaks—it won’t just consume her."

Magnolia swallowed, trying to steady her own shaking breath. "Then what do we do?"

Before Celeste could answer, a new surge of power flared from outside—a distant explosion that rattled the stained glass.

The battle.

Magnolia’s blood ran cold.

"They’re breaching," she whispered.

Celeste’s lips tightened into a thin line. "They’re forcing the final push. If they reach her now, it’s over."

Magnolia gently lowered Camille back onto the bed, her fingers brushing her sister’s damp cheek. "Stay here. I’ll be back."

Celeste grasped her arm. "You can’t—"

"I have to." Magnolia’s voice was steel. "If I don’t hold them back, no one will."

Celeste’s protest died beneath the weight of the truth hanging between them.

Magnolia turned and sprinted from the room.

The moment she stepped back into the courtyard, the battle unfolded like a nightmare. The Elder’s forces were pressing forward, black-clad figures weaving through the fog with precision, their blades flashing.

In the center of it all, she found Rhett—surrounded, but unyielding. His shirt was torn, blood streaking down his arms, but his strikes remained vicious, calculated. A predator protecting his den.

Their eyes met across the chaos.

His voice cut through the fray. "Stay back!"

Magnolia ignored him, charging forward. Her dagger slid free from her belt, slashing through the closest figure who lunged toward Rhett’s blindside.

"I told you—" Rhett growled, breathless, "—to stay inside!"

"I told you I wasn’t leaving!" she shouted back.

They stood side by side now, blades flashing in rhythm, the surge of violence around them deafening.

Gabriel’s voice rang out again from the edge of the battle, echoing like a distant sermon.

"The vessel breaks. The bond cracks. The Elder claims what is owed!"

Another blast of heat burst from the manor behind them.

Magnolia’s heart twisted as she whispered under her breath. "Camille..."

They were running out of time.

"Magnolia!" he shouted, grabbing her arm as she staggered beside him. "Stay close!"

She barely nodded, her legs shaking beneath her. The visions. The blood’s pull. It was whispering even now, beneath the roar of battle, calling to her with a terrible sweetness.

Come closer.

You are part of it too.

Inside the manor, Camille’s chamber flared again with blinding light, a hot pulse rolling out like waves from a furnace.

"Go!" Magnolia shouted. "Get to her! I’ll hold them!"

"You’re not staying here alone!" Rhett growled.

Another blast shook the ground.

And then they saw him.

The Elder Alpha.

He stepped through the fog as if it parted by his will alone, his coat billowing behind him, silver hair gleaming beneath the storm’s flickering lightning. His face was calm, almost serene, as if this carnage was merely a formality.

The surrounding battle slowed for an instant as all eyes turned to him.

"You were warned," the Elder said calmly. His voice cut through the distance like sharpened glass. "You were given every chance to surrender the vessel willingly."

Rhett stepped forward, pulling Magnolia behind him. "You’ll never have her."

The Elder tilted his head, studying his son with quiet disappointment. "You’ve grown strong. But not wise. Strength without wisdom is a curse."

The ground cracked again as the manor’s roofline split further.

Inside, Camille’s scream turned guttural, echoing as if multiple voices were speaking through her at once.

Magnolia pressed her hands against her temples. The whispers were growing louder inside her head. The Ash Blood pulling, tempting.

"Magnolia!" Rhett’s voice pulled her back. "Stay with me!"

The Elder’s gaze shifted to her.

"You feel it, don’t you?" he murmured. "The bond threading through your veins. It’s not only Camille. You share in this, too."

Magnolia’s breath came fast. "I won’t let you control me."

He smiled. "You misunderstand. The blood doesn’t need my control. It will find its own path."

Another explosion erupted from the manor as stone pillars collapsed, flames licking out from shattered windows.

Gabriel stepped beside the Elder, voice full of glee. "She’s opening fully now."

Rhett clenched his jaw, fury burning behind his eyes. "You’ll die before you ever touch her."

The Elder’s smile faded. "So be it."

He raised his hand.

The soldiers surged forward again, an unnatural speed fueling their strikes.

Rhett spun, pushing Magnolia behind him as another wave crashed into their line. Steel clanged against steel, blood spraying into the air as wolves shifted mid-battle, claws raking through flesh.

Magnolia fought with everything left in her body. Her blade flashed in tight arcs, each strike desperate but precise. But the whispers grew louder, more seductive.

You can’t win.

You can only surrender.

We are already inside you.

She staggered.

A masked soldier lunged toward her exposed side, blade raised—

But Rhett moved faster. His body slammed into the attacker, driving his own dagger up beneath the soldier’s jaw.

"Stay with me!" Rhett growled again, pulling Magnolia upright.

Their breath mingled for a second, both trembling.

Inside, Camille screamed one final time—long, unending. The air around the manor warped as an explosion of red light shattered the night.

The Elder Alpha’s eyes gleamed.

"It is done."

A towering plume of flame burst through the manor’s roof as Camille’s chamber fully ruptured.

And then... silence.

The storm stilled. The fog settled. The howls faded into breathless quiet.

The Elder stepped forward, voice quiet, reverent.

"The Ash Child lives."

Rhett’s chest heaved, blood trickling from a gash across his cheek.

"No," he whispered. "Not yet."

But deep down, they both knew.

Everything had changed.