The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond

The first thing Magnolia felt was the cold.

It seeped into her bones, a biting numbness that made it hard to know where her skin ended and the void began. She opened her eyes and saw no stars, only a world swallowed in red mist and rising heat.

Flame licked at the edge of her vision.

But it wasn’t fire that burned.

It was memory.

She stood in the middle of a blackened plain, the soil beneath her feet scorched and cracked like broken glass. The sky hung low and bloody, and every breath she took tasted of copper, ash, and regret.

She was alone.

But she wasn’t.

Eyes watched her from the smoke.

She turned slowly. Shapes moved in the shadows, silent, slow, monstrous.

Then, one stepped forward.

A ghost. A woman. Hair braided in white cords, skin tattooed with runes lost to history. Her eyes were hollow, her mouth stitched shut with thread.

Another followed. Her chest bore a wound, gaping and black, but no blood flowed. She walked with her hands folded as if in prayer.

Then came another.

And another.

They formed a circle.

All women. All Lunas. All broken.

Some wept, some stared, and some whispered words in dead tongues that made Magnolia’s pulse slow in dread.

"They’re all... me," she breathed.

"No," a voice said behind her. "They’re what you could become."

Magnolia turned. The voice came from a girl no older than sixteen, her eyes too wise, her presence too still. Her robes were made of smoke and light, and in her palm, she held a flame.

"You’re one of them?"

The girl nodded. "I was the youngest Luna to ever be chosen. And the first to be sacrificed for power."

Magnolia stared at the others. "What is this place?"

The girl looked up at the red sky. "This is the Veil’s deepest chamber. It’s where the trial begins."

"And what’s the trial?"

"To face them." The girl gestured to the Lunas who now encircled Magnolia. "Every soul who carried the burden before you. The betrayed. The sacrificed. The cursed. They must choose whether to let you pass, or burn with them."

As if in response, the ground trembled.

The Lunas stepped forward, one by one, eyes fixed on Magnolia.

"You let him brand you," one hissed.

"You drank from the cursed cup," spat another.

"You chose love over duty."

"You defied the blood."

"You hid your power."

"You waited too long."

Each accusation hit her like a lash.

"No," Magnolia said, backing away. "I didn’t ask for this."

"But you accepted it," the girl whispered. "And now the fire comes."

The ground split.

A massive wolf made of molten stone and shadow emerged from the chasm. Its body was wrapped in flames, and from its eyes leaked molten gold.

It growled, and the earth bent beneath its weight.

It stepped toward her, each pawprint sizzling into the soil.

"Run," the girl whispered. "Or face it."

Magnolia didn’t move. She couldn’t.

The wolf lunged.

She dove to the side, barely avoiding the flaming fangs. Her arm seared as she rolled across the ground. She rose, panting, coughing ash.

It turned.

Snarled.

Charged again.

This time she stood her ground.

Her palms flared with light. Lunar sigils spiraled across her arms, ancient and bright. The first time she didn’t flinch at them. The first time she didn’t hide.

She raised her hands and shouted a word she didn’t recognize.

The wolf froze mid-pounce.

Magnolia stepped forward, trembling.

"I am not here to run," she said. "I am not here to burn."

The Lunas around her hissed.

The youngest Luna whispered, "Then prove it."

Magnolia placed her hand on the wolf’s head.

Its flames flared,

Then died.

The beast collapsed into dust.

The ground cracked again.

But this time, light poured through it.

The Lunas blinked, as if waking from centuries of rage. Their mouths opened, not in scream, but in song. The stitched lips unraveled. The wounds closed.

The girl smiled.

"You’ve passed."

Magnolia dropped to her knees.

The ash turned to mist.

And the veil... began to fade.

She was still and white as bone on the altar stone, her chest rising only slightly, just enough to prove she hadn’t crossed over completely. But the light that had once pulsed from her skin had vanished. And with it, her tether to this world frayed with every second.

Camille gripped her sister’s wrist tightly, as if she could hold her soul inside through sheer force of will. Celeste stood on the other side of the altar, whispering incantations not meant for public ears, her palm glowing with old silver fire.

"She’s not dying," Camille said aloud, to no one. "She’s not."

"She’s drifting," Celeste said, voice raw.

"Then pull her back!"

"I can’t. Not unless we bind her to someone on this side. Someone strong enough to hold the line."

Rhett stepped forward without hesitation. "Do it. Bind her to me."

"No." Celeste held up a hand. "You don’t understand. This isn’t a spell, Rhett. It’s a soul-linking. A tethering."

"I don’t care," he said.

"You should," Beckett said, stepping into the circle. "If you do this, your soul and hers become one. If she falls, you fall. If she burns... so do you."

Rhett looked down at Magnolia’s still body, and for a moment, the stone under him might as well have cracked open.

"I already burn without her," he whispered.

Celeste hesitated. "If I do this, and your bond isn’t aligned, it could break both of you. The link will open everything. There’ll be no hiding. No secrets. Not even from yourself."

Rhett unbuckled the chain at his wrist, the ceremonial seal of his Alpha title, and let it fall to the ground.

"Bind me to her."

Celeste nodded. "Then kneel."

Rhett did.

Camille stepped back, jaw tight, but she didn’t speak. She’d seen Rhett angry, broken, even lost. But never like this. Never so bare.

Celeste drew a knife from her robes, not metal, but glass-like, carved from obsidian bone. She slit both of Rhett’s palms.

He didn’t flinch.

Then she took his blood and painted a crescent mark onto Magnolia’s sternum.

"She’ll feel your thoughts," Celeste whispered, "and you’ll hear hers."

"Good," Rhett said.

"She’ll dream your nightmares. You’ll crave what she craves."

"I already do."

Camille looked away.

Celeste raised her hands. "Luna, bearer of blood and breath, thread the soul of your chosen with the mate who burns for her. Stitch their edges. Seal their rift. Let no scream fall unheard between them."

Wind gathered. The candles blew inward. A soft light spiraled between them.

Magnolia’s lips moved. Not a word. A sound. His name.

Rhett closed his eyes and whispered, "I’m here."

The altar pulsed with silver.

Then everything went black.

Inside the veil, the flames were gone.

Magnolia stood in a field of gold-touched grass, endless and open under a moonless sky. Her white robe was no longer torn, her feet no longer burned.

But she was still alone.

No. Not alone.

Rhett’s voice.

It echoed, not from behind, not beside her, but from within her.

Maggie...

She spun, heart racing.

I’m here.

He stepped through the mist. His real body wasn’t there, but his soul was, wrapped in the same bruised rage and impossible devotion he always carried.

"Rhett?"

His arms wrapped around her. She wasn’t sure if it was real or illusion, but it felt like salvation.

"I felt you fall," he murmured into her hair. "I couldn’t stand there and do nothing."

"You shouldn’t have followed," she whispered.

"Too late."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "They told me if I die here, you die too."

He smiled faintly. "Then don’t die."

A pause. Their hands linked. His warmth bled into her bones.

Then the ground trembled.

"What was that?" he asked.

"The trial isn’t over," Magnolia said.

"Then I’m staying with you."

She nodded. "Then stay quiet and stay close."

As they moved through the dreamfield together, the sky above them tore open.

A woman fell from the stars.

It was Elira.

But this time, she didn’t burn.

This time, she was dressed in silver and carried a crown of smoke.

She looked at Rhett and Magnolia with grief in her eyes.

"The seal is shaking," Elira said. "The gate opens. The war breathes."

"I saw it," Magnolia replied.

"But you don’t understand what it means."

"Then show me."

Elira extended her hand. "Follow me through the last door."

Rhett grabbed Magnolia’s hand. "We go together."

"No," Elira said. "Only one of you can enter."

Rhett started to argue, but Magnolia turned to him. Her expression was calm, resolute.

"I’ll be faster if I’m not worried for you."

Rhett clenched his jaw. "Come back to me."

"I always do."

She stepped into the light.

And vanished.

Magnolia’s body convulsed on the altar.

Camille cried out, "What’s happening?"

Celeste gasped. "She’s walking into the gate."

Beckett drew his blade instinctively.

"She’s about to face the last memory Luna left behind."

"What happens if she fails?" Camille asked.

Celeste looked up.

"The gate opens... and no soul escapes."