The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 32: Magnolia’s Breakdown

Magnolia didn’t sleep.

Not that night. Not the next.

She sat at the edge of her cot, boots still on, cloak bunched beneath her like a forgotten oath. The fire in her hearth had died hours ago, but she didn’t move to rekindle it.

Camille’s voice still rang in her ears.

"Choose."

But there had never been a choice.

Not between them.

Not really.

She had chosen both and neither, a coward dressed as a protector.

Now Camille was bleeding, and Rhett’s silence sat like a stone in her gut.

She rose before dawn.

The sky outside her chamber window was the color of bruised lavender, heavy clouds pressing down like judgment. She didn’t bother washing. Didn’t tie her hair.

She walked barefoot across the stone.

The hall was empty blessedly so.

No witnesses.

She passed the high chamber, the bond archive, the war room. Each step cracked louder than it should have. Her breath tasted like rust and regret.

At the end of the corridor was Camille’s door.

She knocked once.

Waited.

No answer.

She knocked again.

Still nothing.

So she opened it.

Camille sat on the floor, back to the far wall, knees pulled up beneath her chin.

The shattered mirror had been cleared. Someone had swept the shards into a neat pile beside the hearth, but left the biggest piece propped against the leg of her writing desk.

The fragment still shimmered faintly.

As if it refused to forget.

Camille didn’t look up.

"You’re not supposed to be here."

Magnolia stepped inside anyway.

"I couldn’t stay away."

"Maybe you should’ve tried harder."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"You keep saying that," Camille murmured, "but it doesn’t undo anything."

Magnolia’s hands shook.

"I wanted to protect you."

Camille finally looked up.

"And somewhere along the way, you started wanting him instead."

"No," Magnolia said.

Then: "Yes."

Camille didn’t blink.

"I don’t blame you for loving him. I just hate that you lied."

"I wasn’t ready to admit it."

"Then you never deserved me."

Magnolia dropped to her knees across from her.

"I didn’t come here to beg. I came here to say the truth. All of it."

Camille’s eyes narrowed. "Go on, then."

"I loved you first," Magnolia said. "When we were still girls. When you stitched my broken boot straps. When you kissed my knuckles after I punched Elara’s son in the throat."

A ghost of a smile twitched across Camille’s lips. It didn’t last.

"I loved you before the bond. Before the Rite. Before the war."

"Then why him?"

Magnolia swallowed.

"Because he was the one person I didn’t have to protect. And you "

She broke off.

Camille leaned forward.

"Say it."

"You were the one I couldn’t save."

Camille stared.

Then whispered, "So you stopped trying."

Magnolia closed her eyes.

"I gave up. On us. On me."

"And now?"

"I want to try again."

Camille stood.

Magnolia followed.

They stood, breath mingling, but not touching.

Camille’s voice was quieter now.

"You want me to forgive you."

Magnolia nodded.

"I don’t know if I can."

"I don’t know if I deserve it."

"You don’t."

Silence.

Heavy.

Unrelenting.

Then Camille said, "But I’m too tired to hate you."

Magnolia reached out.

And Camille let her.

Their fingers touched.

And something between them pulsed.

But it wasn’t the bond.

It was grief.

Shared.

"I did," Elara said.

"You falsified records," another elder added. "You swore her bond was natural."

"I believed it was."

"And now?"

Elara’s hands remained folded.

Now, she knew better.

Now, she had seen the mirror.

Now, Camille bled grief that didn’t belong to her.

"She is not a threat," Elara said carefully. "She is a survivor of your mistakes."

"She is a vessel," the elder said. "And she belongs to the Circle."

"No," Elara replied. "She belongs to herself."

There was a murmur.

Elders exchanged glances.

The air grew thick.

Lyra narrowed her eyes. "Then you are prepared to defy the High Table’s recall order?"

"I am."

"You are prepared to break the oath?"

Elara’s fingers curled.

"I have broken many things. Oaths. Rules. Chains. But I will not break her."

Outside, Camille and Magnolia waited behind the sanctum doors, flanked by guards who refused to meet their eyes.

Camille’s voice was low. "She’s going to choose us."

Magnolia didn’t answer.

Not yet.

Camille added, "And if she doesn’t?"

"Then we run."

"You’d run with me?"

Magnolia turned.

"I’d bleed with you."

The door groaned. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

A shadow emerged.

Elara.

She walked slowly.

Stopped in front of them.

And dropped her seal on the floor.

"I no longer speak for them," she said. "I speak for you."

Camille’s breath caught.

Elara touched her cheek.

"They won’t stop hunting you now."

"I know."

"And I won’t let them find you."

Camille stepped forward.

Wrapped her arms around the woman who raised her.

And said the thing she hadn’t dared to feel until now.

"Thank you for choosing me."

The sun never reached the northern grove.

It remained a cold stretch of stone and twisted branches part of the Keep, but not protected by it. Only two knew the way in.

Magnolia waited at its center.

Alone.

The air felt brittle, ready to break. A storm was coming, not just of wind, but of choices.

She didn’t wait long.

Sterling arrived in silence, his cloak already wet with mist. He didn’t speak as he stepped into the grove. His eyes scanned the ring of old wolf statues, the ones marking where oaths had once been made.

"You summoned me," he said.

Magnolia nodded.

"I want a deal."

Sterling arched a brow. "You finally ready to betray her?"

"No."

"I thought not."

"I’m ready to protect her. Even if it means betraying myself."

Sterling crossed his arms. "And what do you offer?"

"My bond claim."

That made him blink.

"My title," she continued. "My right to Alpha succession. My future."

"Why?"

"Because you’ll never stop," she said. "Unless I give you something more valuable."

Sterling studied her.

"And what do you want in return?"

"Leave Camille alone. Let her live. Let her choose."

Sterling’s eyes darkened.

"You think you can bargain with power like mine?"

"I know I can," she said. "Because I was raised inside your lies. And I know every pressure point you’re hiding."

He stepped closer.

"Do this, and you’re nothing. No seat. No name."

Magnolia stared back.

"I’d rather be nothing than watch you destroy her."

Sterling smiled.

Cruel.

"Then the deal is made."

He offered his hand.

She shook it.

Knowing it would cost her everything.

But Camille would live.

And that was enough.