The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 19: The Warning Beneath the Ash

The council hall remained cracked, the air thick with the memory of magic that wasn’t supposed to exist.

Magnolia hadn’t slept.

She’d sat all night beside the small fire in her private chamber, the flames barely touching the cold that had sunk into her bones. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw silver not stars, not moonlight, but something wilder. Something trying to speak in the shape of her wolf.

When the knock came, she already knew who it was.

"Come in," she said quietly.

Beckett stepped inside, shrugging off his travel cloak. His boots were still streaked with dirt, and his eyes were sharper than usual no alcohol, no smile, just focus.

"I saw the light from the archives," he said, not bothering to greet her.

She nodded once. "It wasn’t intentional."

"I didn’t say it was."

Silence stretched between them.

Then he moved to the hearth and tossed in a fresh log. "You didn’t shift. That’s the good news."

"What’s the bad?"

He turned. "You nearly split the foundation stone."

She met his gaze. "I know."

He studied her closely, carefully. "How long has it been since your wolf stirred like that?"

"Ten years."

"And this wasn’t a full awakening?"

"No." Magnolia pressed her fingers into her temples. "It was like... she woke up halfway and realized the world wasn’t what she remembered. Then she panicked. I panicked."

"She didn’t take control," he said.

"No. But she wanted to."

Beckett exhaled through his nose, pacing slowly now. "We’ve seen rogue shifts before, especially with unstable bonds. But this... this wasn’t just blood resonance. You pushed the structure with raw force. That’s not normal."

"Nothing about this is normal anymore."

Beckett crossed his arms. "And it’s getting worse, isn’t it?"

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t have to.

He ran a hand through his hair. "You said the bond’s changing. Explain."

Magnolia looked down at her palm. The mark hadn’t faded. It had grown darker, now shaped like an incomplete crescent.

"It talks to me."

Beckett stiffened. "The bond?"

"It doesn’t use words. But it presses. Like instinct. It pushes when it wants something. When it’s angry. Last night... it wanted Ivy."

Beckett approached her slowly. "This isn’t just a mate bond anymore, is it?"

"I don’t think it ever was."

The fire popped.

He sat across from her now, knees close. "You should be afraid."

"I am."

"You should also tell Rhett."

"I won’t."

"Why?"

"Because he already carries too much. Because if I tell him, he’ll try to bear it. And because the moment he knows, this isn’t mine anymore it becomes the council’s."

Beckett looked away. "Then I’ll say it so you don’t have to."

She waited.

"You’re becoming something else, Mags. And I don’t know if that something will remember who you were."

The wind that morning came colder than it should have for early autumn. Magnolia wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she and Beckett crossed the courtyard toward the archive tower. The ground crackled faintly beneath her steps frost where there shouldn’t have been any.

The guards nodded as she passed, but their eyes lingered too long. One of them flinched when she glanced back.

They’d heard.

Or felt it.

The moment her bond had surged, it hadn’t stayed in the chamber. Magic like that bled into the bones of the keep.

"I can leave," Magnolia said quietly as they reached the inner steps.

Beckett stopped walking. "What?"

"I can go to the old forest line. Stay in the winter cabin. Let this... calm."

He shook his head. "No. That’s what Ivy wants."

"I’m a danger here."

"You’re a danger anywhere."

She raised a brow.

He grunted. "That came out wrong."

"I know what you meant."

"You leaving would validate every word Ivy spewed in council."

"Better that than losing control again in public."

They entered the archive tower, and the temperature dropped. Old tomes and scrolls lined the circular walls like sleeping relics. The librarian glanced up, eyes wide, but said nothing.

Beckett led her to the back, behind the fire-glass wall, into the study chamber only bloodbound advisors could access.

He lit a lantern.

Pulled a scroll.

Unfurled it slowly.

Magnolia sat, and he placed it in front of her.

A sketch. A rune. A gate.

And beneath it, a name: Vassariin.

"This is older than any pack," Beckett said. "Older than the Luna line."

"What is it?"

"It’s the last recorded instance of a split bond."

She frowned. "Split?"

"Two souls. One vessel. One bloodline. Two essences. They called it the Twin Pulse. It didn’t happen often. But when it did..."

He tapped the parchment.

"The vessel either ascended. Or ruptured."

She looked at him. "And you think that’s what I’m becoming?"

"I think Camille didn’t carry all of Ashriel’s mark. I think you took part of it. Maybe without realizing. Maybe when you closed the seal."

Magnolia’s breath caught.

"And now?"

"Now it’s growing."

They left the archives in silence.

She didn’t speak until they reached the west terrace, where the wind carried the sound of hounds training and elders murmuring.

"Promise me something," she said.

Beckett nodded. "Anything."

"If I lose myself... if I can’t hold it..."

"No."

"You have to."

"I won’t."

"Beckett."

He turned to her. "You’re not going to fall, Mags."

Her voice was quiet. "You don’t know that."

He stepped closer. "Then I’ll catch you."

The one that meant something was about to break.

Rhett stood at the upper gallery window of his private wing, watching a storm crawl over the southern hills. It wasn’t just rain coming. It was something colder. Something old.

He hadn’t spoken to Magnolia since Beckett helped her from the archives.

He hadn’t slept, either.

When he’d found her unconscious in the corridor two nights ago blood smeared on her hand, her breathing ragged something in him had cracked. Not fear. Not guilt.

Something darker.

A part of him he thought he’d locked away when Camille fell into the river. The part of him that didn’t think like a ruler. That thought like a man.

That part had nearly torn the throat out of the Luna Council’s security warden when he suggested escorting Magnolia back to the infirmary under watch.

Now Ivy had the gall to stroll into his war room as if nothing had happened.

He turned as the door creaked open.

"Alpha," she said, voice smooth as wine. "You called for me?"

He didn’t speak right away.

She took three steps in, confident in heels sharp enough to be considered weapons, and stood directly across from him.

The war table between them was layered with maps, runes, and troop shifts. But none of that mattered now.

Only her.

And the knife of her tongue.

"I want to know what game you’re playing," Rhett said calmly.

Ivy raised a brow. "I don’t play games, Alpha. I serve the Pack."

"You humiliated the Luna in open council."

"I asked a question."

"You accused her of being cursed."

"I stated that she’s changed. And not everyone agrees that it’s for the better."

Rhett rounded the table. "Then let me make it simple. If you move against her again, I will strip your bloodline of all council rights and reassign your title to your cousin."

The smile slipped.

Just slightly.

"Careful," she said. "Threatening a councilwoman over your mistress isn’t becoming of an Alpha."

"She’s not my mistress."

"No," Ivy said, stepping forward, voice lower now. "But she was."

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Ivy’s eyes narrowed. "You let feelings cloud your command. She’s unstable. She nearly split the foundation of this Keep. The others feel it. I feel it."

"You feel threatened."

"I feel responsible," she snapped.

Rhett studied her. "Why?"

"Because I was the one who vouched for her when you brought her back," she said. "Because I was the one who covered her first blackout. Because I’m the one who will be blamed if she brings this Pack to its knees."

He leaned closer.

"I’m not afraid of your blame, Ivy. I’m afraid of what you’re willing to do in the name of protection."

She blinked. "You think I would hurt her?"

"I think you already have."

The silence stretched.

Lightning forked across the window behind him.

Ivy’s lips parted. "She’s changing, Rhett."

"I know."

"She’s losing control."

"I see it."

"And you’re still going to protect her?"

"Yes."

She laughed softly at first. Then louder. "She’s going to burn this kingdom to the ground."

"Then I’ll burn with her."

That stopped her.

Dead still.

"You mean that," she said.

He didn’t blink. "Every word."

For a moment, Ivy looked almost human.

Not cold. Not manipulative. Just... wounded.

Then it vanished.

"I warned you," she said quietly. "If you won’t move her... someone else will."

And she left without another word.

Rhett waited until the chamber door closed.

Then he dropped his hands to the table and stared at the map of their lands.

The ink blurred slightly.

He wasn’t trembling from rage.

He was trembling from recognition.

Because Ivy was right.

Magnolia was changing.

And he didn’t know if he could stop it.