The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 23: The Blood Vault

Camille sat in silence long after the whisper vanished from the tomb.

No one spoke.

Not Ivy, not Beckett, not even Rhett.

Magnolia stood behind her, unmoving, every breath caught in the weight of the moment. Her palm still throbbed under its bandage, the mark hot and tense, but it was Camille’s silence that scared her most.

When Camille finally rose to her feet, her voice was quiet.

"There’s another relic."

Beckett turned toward her. "Where?"

"In the vault beneath Arclight Manor."

Magnolia frowned. "Your mother’s estate?"

"Our family’s, yes," Camille said. "But the vault predates the manor. I remember now. Not from my life. From... something else."

Elara stepped forward. "You’re sure?"

Camille met her gaze. "I can see it. A chamber beneath the foundation. There’s a symbol carved in the ceiling. A circle of teeth. The same mark that was in Ashriel’s seal."

"Why would it be in your bloodline’s vault?" Beckett asked.

Camille looked at Magnolia.

"Because our family didn’t just seal Ashriel."

"We served him."

The carriage ride to Arclight Manor took half a day.

Camille rode in silence, her eyes fixed on the passing trees. Magnolia sat across from her, arms crossed, studying her sister more closely than she had in years.

She wasn’t the same.

Her movements were too smooth. Her breathing too still. Even her voice had changed lower, more deliberate.

"Do you remember anything else?" Magnolia asked.

Camille shook her head. "Not clearly. But it feels like there’s more. Like the memory is buried behind my heartbeat."

Magnolia reached across the carriage and took her hand.

Camille didn’t pull away.

"We’ll find it," Magnolia said.

"Even if it’s a mistake?"

"Especially then."

Arclight Manor rose from the hills like a frozen wound white stone, black towers, windows like slit eyes. The grounds had been abandoned since the war with the Eastern Packs. Camille hadn’t returned since their mother died.

No one had.

The gates creaked open as if they had waited for this moment.

Rhett arrived minutes later with Beckett and Elara. Ivy had stayed behind at the Keep, claiming someone needed to monitor the council while the others vanished into madness.

Magnolia wasn’t sorry.

Camille led them through the main hall, every step echoing off empty marble.

"It’s beneath the south wing," she said. "The library. Behind the hearth."

Beckett looked around. "There are no runes on the walls."

"There wouldn’t be," Camille said. "It was hidden before the bond laws were ever written."

They entered the library. The hearth was stone and hollow, with a steel grate that bore a single carved crest: a crescent moon and an eye.

Camille pressed her hand to the eye.

It glowed.

A passage opened behind the hearth, stone sliding away to reveal stairs curling downward.

No one spoke as they descended.

The vault was dark.

Not unlit dark.

The kind of black that absorbed the torchlight they carried.

It smelled like ancient blood and rusted memory.

The ceiling bore the symbol Camille described teeth in a perfect ring, biting down on nothing.

A pedestal stood at the center of the room.

And atop it a box.

Beckett drew closer. "What is it?"

Camille stepped forward.

And froze.

Her hand rose, trembling.

"I’ve held this before," she whispered.

"In the vision?" Magnolia asked.

"In another life."

She opened the box.

Inside was a vial.

It pulsed.

Elara gasped. "That’s not ash."

"No," Camille whispered. "It’s essence."

"Essence of what?"

Camille looked up slowly.

"Of grief."

They brought the vial back to the Keep under guard.

Magnolia didn’t sleep.

She sat with Elara and Beckett as they tested the outer shell, searching for hexes or traps.

It didn’t react.

Not to magic. Not to touch.

Until Camille stepped into the room.

Then it glowed.

Red.

Like something had been waiting.

Camille picked it up.

And it whispered.

Not words.

But memory.

And she smiled.

Magnolia’s stomach turned.

"What did it say?" she asked.

Camille looked at her.

Not with fear.

But hunger.

"He remembers you," she said.

Then walked out.

The Memory That Wasn’t Hers

The lanterns flickered when Camille passed.

Not violently. Not as if blown by wind.

But as if they recognized her.

Magnolia followed her down the hall in silence, heart pounding in her chest, her boots echoing in uneven rhythm with her sister’s. Something about the way Camille walked had changed. Her steps weren’t just steady. They were deliberate.

Like she was walking toward something... or someone.

"Camille," Magnolia said quietly. "Where are you going?"

No answer.

Camille turned the corner that led to the south observatory wing a place sealed since the last lunar eclipse.

No one had touched it in months.

Magnolia quickened her pace. "Camille, stop."

Camille stopped.

And turned.

The vial was still in her hand.

It pulsed.

"Do you hear him?" she asked softly.

Magnolia stiffened. "Who?"

Camille tilted her head.

Her voice was too calm.

"The one inside the silence."

Elara burst into the hall just as Camille crossed the threshold into the observatory chamber. The doors opened with a groan, dust lifting into the air like a warning.

"I lost the reading," Elara said breathlessly.

Magnolia turned to her. "What reading?"

"The bond trace. It split. Camille’s bond isn’t registering anymore. It’s like... it vanished."

Beckett caught up behind them. "She still has the vial."

"We have to stop her," Magnolia said.

"No," Elara said sharply. "If you interrupt her now, it might backlash. That thing could turn your entire bond against you."

"She’s still my sister."

"She’s not just your sister right now."

Inside the chamber, Camille stood in the center of the stone circle, the vial hovering above her palm now, suspended by unseen force.

Her eyes were silver.

Her lips moved, but no sound emerged.

Then the walls began to hum.

The observatory dome trembled.

Magnolia moved before anyone could stop her.

The moment she stepped inside, the sound vanished.

No hum.

No breath.

Only Camille.

Still. Glowing.

Magnolia took a step closer. "Camille. Listen to me."

Camille’s eyes didn’t move.

But her voice came, low and toneless.

"I saw it."

Magnolia swallowed. "Saw what?"

"The origin."

Camille blinked once.

And then

The room changed.

Stone vanished.

The dome above them cracked and reformed.

Suddenly, Magnolia stood in a field of black glass. Ash fell from the sky. The moon above bled red. And around them, the bones of wolves stretched for miles.

Camille stood at the center.

But it wasn’t Camille.

Not entirely.

She wore a crown of silver branches. Her eyes glowed from within. And the vial?

It floated above her chest, spinning slowly.

"This isn’t memory," Magnolia said.

"It’s inheritance."

Camille raised a hand.

A figure appeared behind her.

Tall. Broad. Cloaked in shadow.

Ashriel.

Magnolia’s heart seized.

She stepped forward, but the vision didn’t react.

It played like a loop an echo repeating through time.

Camille turned to the figure.

Spoke one word.

"Forgive."

Ashriel fell to his knees.

Then the vision broke.

Magnolia hit the floor of the observatory hard.

Camille crumpled beside her.

Elara and Beckett rushed in.

"She’s breathing," Elara confirmed. "But her pulse is gods."

"What?" Magnolia asked.

Elara looked up.

"The vial is gone."

Magnolia turned to Camille.

Her palm now glowed with red light.

The essence had bound itself to her.

"She is the next gate," Elara whispered.

Beckett turned to Magnolia.

"What do we do now?"

Magnolia’s voice shook.

"We find the last piece before it finds us."