The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 89: Threads of Betrayal

The stone corridors beneath the Hollowfang fortress groaned like old bones as Camille crept along them, clutching a threadbare cloak to her body. The echo of her own footsteps sounded too loud, too certain. Something inside her stomach twisted, not just the dread of being caught, but the pulse of a presence, a tether she couldn’t unfeel. She wasn’t sure if it was Luna, or something darker pretending to be.

In the shadows behind her, a candle flickered. Not hers. She stopped breathing. A hand clamped over her mouth.

"Don’t scream," came a voice like sand and steel.

Rhett.

She twisted in his grip, wild-eyed, but he let her go the moment he saw her face. "Camille?"

"Why are you following me?" she hissed, smoothing her hair down.

"Why are you sneaking through the lower halls?"

Camille didn’t answer right away. Her eyes darted down the tunnel, back toward the sealed war chambers. "Because Sterling’s planning something. Something worse than what he said to the Council."

Rhett’s jaw tensed. He had the face of a man carved from dusk, strong features, half-shadowed eyes that never gave away more than he meant to. But tonight, something cracked. "He sent someone to kill me."

Camille froze. "What?" freewёbnoνel.com

"Last night. In my sleep. If Magnolia hadn’t sensed the shift..." He trailed off.

She clutched his forearm, fingers trembling. "Why are you still here? Why haven’t you taken the throne by force?"

He shook his head. "Because I want to be better than him. But the Hollowfangs are running out of time."

Her voice softened. "And what if the only way to save us is to become what we hate?"

Rhett didn’t answer. Instead, he turned down the hall. "Come with me. There’s something you need to see."

The chamber door moaned as it opened, revealing an old war room that hadn’t been touched in decades. The air was thick with dust and memory. Crimson banners of the ancient Alpha line still hung in tatters on the walls.

"This was my grandfather’s war table," Rhett said, motioning to the massive slab of stone etched with shifting runes.

Camille ran her fingers along the grooves. "Blood spells."

"Yes. And look."

He opened a scroll sealed with the symbol of the First Moon, a script forbidden even among council ranks. "Magnolia found this in Celeste’s sanctum."

Camille leaned closer. Her blood went cold.

"The prophecy," she whispered.

"It’s older than we thought. And it says the vessel’s child... isn’t the end. It’s the beginning. The child is meant to awaken the bloodline of the Hollowfang heir."

She swallowed hard. "You mean your blood."

Rhett nodded. "If Sterling controls you... he controls the child. And if he controls the child, he doesn’t need me."

"He’d just kill you."

He looked at her. Really looked at her.

"That’s why you need to choose, Camille. Whatever is inside you, Luna, the prophecy, or something else, it’s waking up. You can feel it, can’t you?"

Camille stepped back. Her fingers shook. Her vision swam with fire and blood and a voice too old to belong to any mortal tongue.

"I dreamed last night," she said, barely audible. "Of moons cracking. Of wolves turning to ash. And a cradle made of bone."

Rhett closed the space between them. "Then we have no more time to waste."

They turned toward the door, but it slammed shut before they reached it.

Out of the darkness stepped a familiar figure. Sterling.

"I see treason wears many faces tonight," he said, voice as smooth as venom.

Camille backed away.

"You sent a killer after me," Rhett growled.

"You were never meant to survive. But you always were stubborn."

Sterling flicked his fingers, and two guards appeared from the shadows, swords drawn.

Camille’s heart thundered. She looked to Rhett. His wolf was surfacing. She could see it in his eyes, the golden glow, the trembling shoulders.

"If you try to stop me," Sterling warned, "you’ll die before your heir ever draws breath."

Camille stepped between them.

"Then you’ll have to kill me first," she said.

Sterling laughed. "You think you matter to this game, child?"

"I am the game."

The runes on the table blazed to life.

Rhett bared his teeth. Camille raised her hand, fingers glowing.

Everything shattered at once.

The room erupted in chaos.

Steel met claw. Magic ripped through stone. Camille screamed as the prophecy inside her surged up, spilling from her lips in an ancient tongue. Sterling flinched. The guards screamed.

And then,

Silence.

The guards lay unconscious. Sterling was gone. The scroll burned to ash.

Rhett fell to one knee, panting. Camille dropped beside him.

"It’s started," she said.

He nodded.

"Then we end it."

"You didn’t have to follow me."

Magnolia stood at the edge of the forest, the moonlight painting pale lines across her face. Rhett emerged from the mist behind her, arms folded across his chest. His wolf simmered beneath his skin, restless, aware of hers.

"You slipped out like a shadow. What did you expect me to do? Sleep?" His voice was quiet but edged with something jagged.

Magnolia didn’t turn around. "Some things are easier when you’re not watching."

"Like what? Breaking apart?"

She closed her eyes. The pine needles crackled under her feet. The scent of damp soil curled into her senses. The forest always calmed her, but not tonight. Not when everything felt like it was cracking open from within.

"You felt it too," she said. "When I touched the scroll. It changed something in me."

Rhett moved beside her. "It unlocked you. That’s not the same as breaking."

"No?" She turned to face him now. Her eyes shimmered, wolf-gold. "You saw the room tremble. My body burned. My voice wasn’t mine. That scroll reached inside me."

"And you’re scared."

"Of myself. Yes. Of what I might become."

Rhett stepped closer, his fingers brushing against hers. "You think I’m not scared too? You think I don’t wake up wondering if this bond between us will be the thing that saves or destroys us both?"

She looked up, heart thudding. "Then why do you stay?"

He smiled faintly. "Because when my world was ending, you didn’t run. And now that yours is shaking, I won’t leave."

Their fingers linked, briefly. A fragile truth passed between them.

"Celeste thinks I’m the key," Magnolia whispered. "That the scrolls chose me."

"Did you feel chosen?"

She swallowed. "No. I felt claimed."

A low wind stirred the trees. Far off, an owl hooted, the sound lonely. Magnolia stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself.

"It wasn’t just the scroll," she said. "There was a vision. I saw myself, older, blood on my hands, standing over a broken crown. And Camille beside me, but her face was wrong. Like it wasn’t hers."

Rhett’s jaw clenched. "You think the prophecy’s moving?"

"I think it’s already begun."

He hesitated, then asked, "Do you want to run from it?"

She shook her head. "I want to understand it. And if I have to bleed to stop it, I will."

He touched her cheek, brushing back a strand of hair. "You’re stronger than you know."

Her voice cracked. "No, I’m just too tired to keep fearing myself."

They stood in silence. Then, from the treeline, a figure emerged.

Camille.

Her face was pale, her movements stiff. "We need to talk."

Magnolia stepped forward. "What is it?"

"Sterling knows. About the scrolls. About the prophecy moving."

Rhett’s wolf bristled. "How?"

"Because he’s been watching us longer than we thought," Camille replied. "And he plans to use what you felt tonight to his advantage."

Magnolia felt cold seep into her bones. "Then we don’t have time."

Camille nodded. "No. And Celeste has started the ritual preparations. We have until the next full moon."

Rhett’s voice darkened. "To do what?"

Camille met Magnolia’s eyes. "To decide who you truly are. And what you’re willing to sacrifice."

Magnolia stepped back, pulse roaring. "I’m not ready."

Camille moved closer, pressing something into her palm. A stone, carved with ancient runes.

"You don’t get to be ready," she whispered. "You just have to choose."

The air seemed to thicken.

Rhett placed a hand on Magnolia’s shoulder. "We face it together. No matter what comes."

Her wolf stirred, claws stretching beneath her skin. The bond between her and Rhett thrummed like a drumbeat, steady, intense. It was both comfort and warning.

Magnolia looked at Camille. "Then tell Celeste. We begin tonight."

A growl rose deep from the woods.

Camille turned sharply. "Did you hear that?"

Rhett stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Someone followed you."

But the forest held no reply. Only the shifting silence of something unseen, waiting.

Magnolia gripped the rune stone tighter. She could feel it now, the prophecy threading through her blood, old as the mountains.

Rhett whispered, "Stay close."

And then the shadows broke apart.

Figures moved through the trees. Red-cloaked, silent. Their eyes gleamed with something not human.

Camille cursed. "Bloodwatch."

Magnolia stepped forward, her voice ringing through the clearing. "You want prophecy? You want war? Then come. And see what I’ve become."

The first figure lunged.

Magnolia didn’t flinch.

She burned.