The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond
Chapter 118: Rhett’s Collapse

Chapter 118: Rhett’s Collapse

At the far end of the room, Rhett remained seated, slumped back against the tall chair. His eyes had grown glassy, jaw tight, but his breathing was uneven.

Magnolia stopped, turning toward him sharply.

"You need to rest," she said, voice softer than it had been all day.

"I’m fine," Rhett rasped. His voice sounded thinner now, lacking its usual weight.

"You’re not," Magnolia whispered. "You’ve barely been standing since the last breach."

Beckett took a small step forward. "Magnolia’s right. Your fever’s worse."

Rhett waved a hand dismissively but winced as his fingers trembled slightly. "The fever will pass."

Magnolia moved toward him, crouching beside his chair so their eyes met. She reached for his hand before he could pull away, holding it between both of hers. His skin was hot, burning.

"You’re burning up," she breathed.

Rhett tried to steady his breath but failed, closing his eyes briefly as a shudder wracked his frame. His jaw locked tight again, trying to push through.

Magnolia’s heart hammered. She leaned closer. "Rhett... when did it start?"

He shook his head once, voice barely above a whisper. "When Camille slipped away."

Her breath caught. "The bond."

"The Ash Blood connects us all," Beckett said quietly. "You know that."

Magnolia pressed Rhett’s hand tighter against her chest, desperate to ground him, to anchor him against the pull that was tightening inside both of them.

"She’s pulling on you," Magnolia whispered. "Even from a distance."

Rhett’s eyes opened again, cloudy with exhaustion but still filled with that stubborn fire. "She’s not doing it on purpose."

"I know."

"But it’s growing inside her," he whispered. "Stronger every hour. The closer she draws to it, the more it pulls me too."

Beckett’s voice lowered further. "That’s how the Elder plans to break you. If Camille completes the transformation... it won’t stop pulling on you."

Magnolia’s stomach twisted. "You have to rest. If you collapse completely, "

"I can’t rest!" Rhett snapped suddenly, louder than before, the fire inside him flaring briefly through his exhaustion.

The sharpness of his voice made Magnolia flinch.

The silence afterward was thick.

Rhett’s breathing faltered again, and his hand slipped from hers as his body suddenly pitched forward, the strength draining out of him all at once.

"Rhett!" Magnolia cried, catching him before he collapsed fully onto the stone floor.

His skin burned beneath her touch. His body shook uncontrollably. His lips trembled, trying to form words that refused to come.

Beckett was already kneeling beside them. "He’s seizing."

The red pulsing behind Rhett’s closed eyes terrified Magnolia. Thin veins of faint crimson glowed beneath his skin, like tendrils tracing along his neck and jaw, spreading upward with every second.

"It’s the Ash Blood," Beckett said, his voice grave. "It’s accelerating inside him."

Magnolia’s throat tightened, her fingers threading into Rhett’s sweat-soaked hair. "Stay with me, Rhett. Stay here."

He shook violently in her arms.

Celeste’s words from days ago rang in her mind.

The longer this festers, the more the blood will bind them. If Camille slips fully, Rhett won’t be able to resist the pull. It will devour them both.

Magnolia clenched her jaw, willing herself not to panic. She forced her breathing slow, steady.

"We need to break the connection," Beckett whispered. "Temporarily. Or this will kill him."

"How?" Magnolia rasped. "How do we break something we can’t even touch?"

Beckett’s eyes were already scanning the room. "The old suppressants. The binding tinctures from the lower archives. Celeste kept them for emergencies. They’re dangerous but, "

"Then get them!" Magnolia snapped.

Beckett didn’t hesitate. He sprinted from the chamber, leaving her alone with Rhett’s failing body.

The glow beneath his skin pulsed brighter. His lips parted as if trying to breathe but finding none.

Magnolia held him tighter, pressing her forehead against his. Tears slipped from her eyes.

"Don’t you dare let go," she whispered fiercely. "Don’t you dare leave me."

His body convulsed again.

Her heart pounded against her ribs. The bond inside her pulsed too, as if the Ash Blood itself whispered through her veins now.

Come closer. Surrender. We are one.

"No!" she growled under her breath. "You won’t take him."

Beckett returned moments later with a small vial, its dark liquid swirling like ink.

"Hold him steady!"

Magnolia pressed harder, anchoring Rhett’s head against her shoulder as Beckett poured the tincture slowly between his lips.

The moment it touched his tongue, Rhett convulsed violently one last time before his entire body went limp in her arms.

The glow beneath his skin faded, dimming slowly into nothing.

He breathed. Shallow, but alive.

Magnolia sobbed softly, still holding him tightly as her hands trembled.

Beckett whispered hoarsely beside her. "That will buy us time. But not much."

Magnolia stared down at Rhett’s pale face, her tears falling freely now.

Time was slipping fast.

And the Ash Blood was no longer waiting. It was claiming them all.

The heavy doors of the great hall groaned as they closed behind Magnolia.

The space inside was colder than it should have been, though torches lined the stone walls, their flames flickering uncertainly as if hesitant to fully burn. The wide chamber held the entire council now, those still loyal, those still uncertain, and those quietly measuring her.

Rhett’s chair sat empty at the head of the long table.

His absence was louder than words.

Magnolia stood beneath the towering banners of the Callahan lineage, their crimson threads heavy with history, embroidered wolves coiled around a rising flame. A cruel irony now.

She felt their eyes settle on her, waiting.

Marcus, as always, was first to speak. His voice carried across the room with carefully measured respect that barely masked his doubt. "Rhett should be leading this, not you."

"He can’t," Magnolia said plainly. Her voice was calm, but steel threaded through it. "You saw what happened. The blood fever nearly killed him."

Marcus’s jaw flexed. "Temporary. He’ll recover."

"We don’t have time to wait for recovery."

"He’s our Alpha."

"And I speak for him until he can stand again," Magnolia countered, her voice sharper now. "Unless one of you wishes to challenge that."

The words landed like a thrown blade.

Silence answered first.

But it wasn’t full acceptance. It was calculation.

Beckett remained standing near her, silent but firm. His steady presence at her side didn’t go unnoticed by the others.

"The pack is scared," another elder finally spoke, his voice brittle. "Many blame Camille. They’re looking for direction, Magnolia. They’re looking for strength."

Magnolia lifted her chin, her heartbeat loud in her chest. "Then they’ll find it here."

Another elder spoke, softer, but laced with unease. "The younger wolves whisper about leaving. If the Elder offers safety, they will take it."

Her stomach clenched. The rot was spreading faster than she thought.

Marcus leaned forward. "The Elder’s forces are strong. He’s taken Sterling. He controls the Ash Blood’s expansion. And now, with Rhett down... what exactly is your plan to stop him?"

The challenge in his tone sparked fire in her veins.

"My plan," Magnolia said coldly, "is to remind this pack who we are. We do not bend because fear knocks at the door. We do not break because one of our own was taken."

She let her gaze sweep slowly across the room, holding each pair of eyes with fierce command.

"We endure."

The flames along the walls hissed as if stirred by her words.

"We are not the Elder’s children. We do not cower behind promises of easy surrender. And we will not sacrifice Camille because some of you have already decided she’s lost."

Beckett stepped forward then, voice crisp. "If anyone believes otherwise, say so now."

Another long silence followed.

Magnolia could see the war behind their eyes, fear clawing against pride, loyalty wrestling with doubt.

But none spoke.

For now, that was enough.

She turned back toward the doors. "Begin fortifying the inner estate. Every remaining loyal fighter trains double shifts. We move forward."

As the council dispersed with reluctant nods, Marcus remained behind, watching her closely. His voice dropped low as she passed him.

"You’re strong, Magnolia. Stronger than many give you credit for. But be careful."

She stopped, meeting his gaze without blinking. "Of what?"

He smiled faintly, but it never touched his eyes. "Power can break even the ones who hold it best."

Magnolia didn’t reply. She left him standing alone in the shadows.

Later, in the dim safety of Rhett’s private chamber, she sat beside his bed.

He was still unconscious, his breathing shallow but steady under the tincture’s weight. His face looked younger when he slept, stripped of the constant tension that ruled his waking hours.

Magnolia reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his. His skin remained warm, but no longer burned.

"You have no idea how much I need you awake right now," she whispered.

The weight on her chest tightened.

She had spoken boldly before the council. She had stood taller than her fear. But here, in the quiet, doubt seeped through the cracks.

The pack was fracturing. The Elder was circling. Camille was lost to them. And Rhett, her anchor, was slipping beneath the blood’s pull.

Her thumb traced slowly across his knuckles. "I won’t let them take this from us. I won’t let them take you."

For a moment, his fingers twitched faintly beneath hers.

Her breath caught.

But his eyes remained closed.

Beckett entered quietly behind her. "You should sleep."

"I can’t."

He crossed his arms, standing beside her. "They’ll test you again tomorrow. Marcus is already gathering quiet support."

"Let him."

Beckett’s voice softened. "You won’t win them all with speeches, Magnolia."

She closed her eyes briefly, exhaustion seeping deep into her bones.

"No," she whispered. "I’ll win them with survival."

Beckett didn’t argue.

The storm outside swirled quietly against the windows.

The battle was shifting now.

Inside these walls, power was no longer resting in Rhett’s hands.

It had shifted.

And Magnolia carried it alone.