The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 17: The Thornpath Pact

The moment Magnolia opened the door to Camille’s room, she knew something was wrong.

The scent of lavender that usually lingered faintly in the space had faded. The hearth had gone cold. The bed lay empty, sheets thrown aside in disarray. The windows were open wide, letting in a gust of wind that tossed the sheer curtains like restless spirits.

But it was the silence that screamed the loudest.

Magnolia stepped inside, her boots soundless against the stone. Her heart pounded not with fear, but with knowing. The mark on her palm began to throb again, faintly glowing beneath the linen wrap. The bond stirred like a creature half-woken from sleep, clawing beneath her skin.

She whispered her sister’s name, once.

No response.

She crossed the room quickly, leaned out the window, and saw the footprints below. Bare. Light. Leading away from the estate and into the dark horizon where the forest trees blurred against the purple sky.

Magnolia didn’t call for help.

She didn’t hesitate.

She turned and ran.

The Thornpath forest was older than most remembered.

It didn’t exist on estate maps anymore, burned out of records after the blood feuds that followed the fall of the First Luna. But those who walked the old grounds still whispered of the Thornpath a crooked trail lined by trees that leaned in too close, their bark carved with marks that never healed, their branches constantly whispering secrets to the wind.

Magnolia reached the edge of the forest before sunrise. The sky was gray. The air smelled of rain and moss. But beneath it all was something else.

Salt.

As if the trees themselves had been weeping.

She followed the path barefoot, abandoning her boots at the edge. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, restless. The mark on her palm pulsed stronger with every step, reacting not only to Camille but to the bond unraveling deeper inside her.

She didn’t shift. She didn’t call out.

She listened.

Every crack of twigs. Every movement of leaves. Every breath of wind.

And then she heard it.

Not footsteps.

Not an animal.

A voice.

Camille’s voice.

Soft. Haunting.

Singing.

Magnolia followed it.

It led her to the river.

The one they had almost died in. The one Camille had drowned in. The place where the bond had begun to twist into something more than blood.

Camille stood on the riverbank, barefoot, her white nightdress soaked to her knees. Her hair hung down her back in tangles. Her arms were loose at her sides. She stared at the water as if it had spoken.

Magnolia stopped a few paces behind.

"Camille."

Camille didn’t turn.

"He showed me the stars again," she said softly.

Magnolia’s heart clenched.

"I told him I didn’t want to see. But he said I was made from them."

"You’re not," Magnolia said. "You’re made from everything you fought to come back from."

Camille slowly turned her head.

Her eyes were too bright.

"He said you’re the lock, Maggie. But I’m the door. You don’t close me without sealing yourself, too."

"That’s not true."

"You felt it."

Magnolia stepped forward. "Whatever he put in us whatever he tried to use us for it’s not destiny. It’s violation. We are not his gatekeepers."

Camille shook her head. "You don’t understand. He’s not trying to destroy the world."

"Then what?"

"He’s trying to heal it."

Magnolia froze.

Camille whispered, "He showed me what came before. Before the packs. Before the Luna lines. There were no alphas. No blood ranks. Just wolves. Wild and boundless."

"That world is gone."

"He wants it back."

"And he’s using us to do it."

Camille stepped closer to the river. "He wants us to choose."

Magnolia’s pulse raced. "Choose what?"

"Him. Or them."

"And if we choose them?"

Camille turned fully now.

Her pupils had dilated. Her skin shimmered faintly, like frost on stone.

"Then we become the seal again. And the gate closes. Forever."

Magnolia stepped closer. "Camille... you’re not just a gate. You’re my sister. You chose me once. You don’t owe him anything."

Camille looked down at her hand.

The same mark Magnolia bore now burned faintly on her wrist, like a brand trying to reignite.

"I don’t know if I’m strong enough to choose again."

"Then let me choose for both of us," Magnolia said.

She reached out.

Their fingers touched.

The bond surged.

Camille gasped.

And then

The water split.

A roar of magic exploded from the riverbed. Light tore through the forest like a scream made visible. Magnolia fell backward, shielding her eyes.

When she looked up

He was there.

Ashriel.

Not as smoke.

Not as shadow.

But in form.

He stood between them, tall and still, skin like carved obsidian, crowned with antlers that curled like spires.

He smiled.

"You found her," he said, voice a dozen echoes at once.

Magnolia stood slowly.

"I came for her," she replied.

Ashriel stepped toward her.

"You came for yourself."

"You don’t belong in this world."

"I made this world," he said calmly. "Long before your packs claimed it."

"You corrupted it."

"I offered balance."

She stepped between him and Camille. "She’s not yours."

"She was."

"Not anymore."

He tilted his head. "You would fight me?"

"I would bleed for her."

"And if she asked to go with me?"

Magnolia flinched.

Ashriel looked to Camille. "Speak, gatekeeper. Do you walk forward... or backward?"

Camille’s lips parted.

And then

She ran.

Past Magnolia.

Into Ashriel’s arms.

"No!" Magnolia screamed.

But Camille was already gone.

Ashriel vanished with her in a swirl of ash.

And the forest went dead silent.

Magnolia didn’t remember falling.

She only remembered the howl.

Rhett’s.

It split the air seconds later.

Beckett found her on the ground, shaking, arms bloodied where she’d dug her nails into her skin.

Rhett dropped to her side, pulling her close.

"She chose him," Magnolia whispered.

"No," Rhett said, voice shaking. "He took her."

Magnolia shook her head. "She wanted to go."

"She’s not herself."

"She hasn’t been since she drowned."

The mark on her palm flared so violently it singed her skin.

"I have to go after her."

"You can’t," Rhett said. "We don’t know where they went."

"She’ll show me," Magnolia said. "She’s still my sister."

"She’s not your responsibility anymore."

"Yes, she is," Magnolia snapped. "Because I didn’t hold her tight enough when it mattered."

Beckett stepped forward. "There’s one place old enough to anchor that kind of magic."

Rhett nodded slowly. "The Starfall Caverns."

"They’ve been sealed for decades," Beckett said. "But if Ashriel wants to open the gate fully, he’ll need an altar untouched by the Luna bloodline."

Magnolia rose to her feet.

"I’m going there," she said. "Tonight."

Rhett grabbed her arm. "Not alone."

She looked up at him.

"No," she said. "Not alone."