The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 104: The Trial of Truth

The light swallowed her.

Magnolia moved through it like smoke curling through a breach in the sky, her breath shallow, her limbs weightless. She felt no ground beneath her feet, only a pull, a gravity that wasn’t of this world.

Then it ended.

She landed on stone.

Not just any stone, this was the altar from the ancient drawings, etched with the seal of the first Luna, surrounded by a circle of obsidian pillars. The air buzzed like a struck bell. Overhead, the sky was neither black nor light, it was memory. Alive. Fluid. Heavy with judgment.

She wasn’t alone.

Twelve figures stood around the altar. Women. Different heights, different ages, all cloaked in moon-threaded robes. Their faces were hidden beneath silver masks, but the energy that poured from them stung her skin.

The trial had begun.

One of them stepped forward. Her voice came layered, past and present, whisper and thunder.

"You stand accused not of crime, but of forgetfulness."

"I remember," Magnolia said. "I remember Elira. I remember the gate. I remember the war."

"No," the voice said. "You remember fragments. Echoes. You’ve lived your life with borrowed truths. Now you must face the truths that are yours."

The stone beneath her feet shimmered. A mirror formed where she stood, not glass, but water. And in it, a younger version of herself.

A girl, maybe ten. Barefoot. Crying quietly in the woods, her hands scratched from thorns. Behind her, nothing. No home. No pack.

Magnolia watched in silence. She remembered this day.

She had wandered off after her mother told her the truth, about her blood, her twin sister, her mark.

"You’re not like the others," her mother had said, voice hushed and terrified. "You’re something the elders will never understand."

"You buried her," one of the masked Lunas said, gesturing to the image of young Magnolia.

"I had to," Magnolia replied. "She was weak. She wanted to be loved."

"She wanted to be seen."

The image faded.

Another appeared.

This time, it was Magnolia at fifteen. Kneeling beside Camille’s broken body after a failed transformation, holding her while the other wolves looked on with disdain. freeweɓnøvel.com

"I promised I’d never leave her," Magnolia whispered.

"But you did."

"I came back."

"Too late."

The air trembled.

Another memory surfaced.

Magnolia lying beside Rhett in the healing chamber weeks ago. Her body raw from battle. His touch gentle on her hip. His voice asking, "Do you trust me yet?" And her silence that followed.

"You kept your heart closed," the voices said.

"Because it was safer."

"Was it?"

"I didn’t know if I was meant for love," Magnolia confessed. "Everything I touch either dies or betrays me."

"Then touch nothing. Love no one. But do not claim the moon."

Magnolia stepped forward, fury building in her chest.

"I didn’t ask for this power. I didn’t ask to be chosen. I didn’t carve this mark into my skin. But I carry it. I survived it. So don’t tell me I’ve failed because I didn’t fall fast enough."

Silence followed.

Then the voices shifted.

"You claim to carry the truth. Then name it."

Magnolia blinked. The air rippled again.

And the final memory appeared.

A figure stepped out of the mist.

Camille.

Not as she was, but as she could have been. Darker. Colder. Her eyes filled with venom, her mouth curled in rage. She wore a crown made of shards.

"I am the truth you denied," the shadow-Camille hissed. "You let them love you while I bled in silence."

Magnolia stepped back. "You’re not her."

"No," the shadow said. "I’m the part of you that left her behind. The guilt that festered when you chose Rhett over blood. I’m the bond that broke."

Tears spilled down Magnolia’s cheeks.

"I tried to save her," she said.

"But you chose to survive."

"I had no choice."

"There’s always a choice."

The shadow raised her hand, and fire erupted around the altar.

Magnolia stood in the middle, shaking, blinking back fear.

"Will you burn to atone?" the voices asked. "Or will you lie to stay alive?"

Magnolia lifted her chin.

"I won’t lie anymore. I failed Camille. I chose silence when I should’ve screamed. I chose pride when I should’ve fallen on my knees. I chose power over love. But I’m still here."

She placed a hand on her chest.

"And I choose her now. I choose Rhett. I choose truth. Even if it kills me."

The fire stilled.

The shadow vanished.

The masked Lunas stepped forward, surrounding her.

One by one, they touched her shoulders.

One voice spoke now, unified.

"Then you are Luna, not by birth, but by fire."

The altar lit beneath her feet.

The seal carved itself anew into the stone.

A bond forged not by fate, but by truth.

,

Outside, Magnolia gasped awake.

Rhett caught her before she fell.

Camille clutched her hand. "Did you see her?"

"I saw everything."

Celeste stepped back, whispering to herself, "She passed."

The clouds above parted.

And a new moon rose, silver, whole, and terrifying in its glow.

The moment Magnolia opened her eyes, the sky cracked.

Not with thunder, not with rain, there was no weather here. But something broke overhead, something old, a silence too ancient to carry a name.

And the moon... wasn’t where it had been.

The arena of echoes, once shrouded in silver stillness, now hummed like it had taken breath for the first time in centuries. The torches lining the great stone wall flickered violently, their flames bending toward her as though pulled by an unseen force.

Rhett held her close, his face pale with restraint. Camille knelt on her other side, hands trembling as she felt the heat pulsing beneath Magnolia’s skin.

Celeste stood, wide-eyed.

"She did it," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "She survived the veil."

But Sterling didn’t move.

He stood at the edge of the altar platform, watching, unmoved, his expression unreadable. He held no scroll. No blade. No robe of judgment. Just silence. And something in that silence... shifted.

Beckett broke it first.

"She passed the trial," he said, stepping forward with a voice like a drawn sword. "It’s over. The verdict stands. She is Luna."

"No," Sterling said.

His voice was calm. Too calm.

"She passed your test," Beckett growled. "By rite, by prophecy, by fire."

Sterling turned. "That was not the final test."

Celeste stiffened. "There is no other test, Sterling."

"There is," he said. "The Trial of Council Judgment."

Camille rose. "You made that up."

Sterling smiled faintly. "It’s older than any of us. A final vote by the elders. Not of her survival, but of her worth."

Gasps echoed from the balconies.

"You planned this," Celeste spat. "You knew she’d survive."

"I hoped she would," Sterling said smoothly. "Because surviving isn’t the same as leading."

"Let them vote," Magnolia said, standing on her own, voice hoarse but steady. "Let them choose."

Rhett grabbed her wrist. "You don’t need their blessing."

"I need their silence," she said. "I want to lead with truth, not force."

The elders were summoned, thirteen in total, seated above all others in crescent thrones of blackstone. Their faces were marked with ancient symbols. They had watched the entire trial in silence.

Now one of them stood.

Elder Virelle.

She looked down at Magnolia, eyes unreadable. "You have passed the rite of Luna. But a rite is not a crown. Do you understand?"

Magnolia nodded. "I do."

"Then we vote."

One by one, the elders spoke.

Nine voices said yes.

Three said nothing, abstaining.

And the last...

Sterling.

"I speak for the forgotten blood," he said. "I speak for the wolves who drowned in the fire she now carries. I say no."

The silence that followed felt final.

Celeste stepped forward. "Nine yeses. One no. Three abstain. The Luna is chosen."

Sterling lifted something from his sleeve.

A scroll. Old. Marked with a red wax seal no one had seen in over a century.

"The Crown Accord," he said, unraveling it. "Enacted only once, during the Eclipse Uprising. It states: if even one elder believes a Luna will bring the gate to full open, they may call for the Rite of Reversal."

Camille’s eyes widened. "That rite was outlawed."

Sterling’s grin was thin. "But never erased."

Beckett moved. Fast.

But not fast enough.

Sterling unsealed the scroll and slammed it onto the altar stone.

And it burned.

The flame rose high, then disappeared.

In its place... a crown.

Black. Twisted. Made not of silver or gold, but of iron thorns and bone ash.

It pulsed with old magic.

"This is the true crown," Sterling said. "The one given when Luna is contested. And if she wears it, she belongs to the council. Not the bond. Not the blood. Not the prophecy."

Magnolia stepped forward.

She touched the crown.

It burned her.

She didn’t flinch.

"Is that what this is about?" she asked softly. "Control?"

"No," Sterling said. "It’s about safety."

"You mean fear."

He didn’t deny it.

Camille whispered, "You don’t have to do this. You already won."

Magnolia stared at the crown. Then turned to the crowd.

"I have been burned. Betrayed. Abandoned. I carry the memories of every Luna who came before me. I’ve seen the gate. I’ve stood before the wolf made of fire. I’ve faced my shadow. And I am still here."

She looked at Sterling.

"You want me to wear this?"

He said nothing.

Magnolia picked up the crown.

And snapped it in two.

The sound tore through the arena like thunder.

The ash exploded into light.

And when it cleared,

Sterling was on his knees.

His eyes wide.

Because behind Magnolia, something rose from the broken altar.

A beam of silver fire.

The seal had awakened.

Fully.

And it had chosen its Luna.