The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 61: Fire in the Bloodline

"You shouldn’t have followed me."

Magnolia’s voice rang out in the darkness, sharp as flint against stone. Her silhouette stood against the dim torchlight of the underground chamber, arms rigid at her sides, breath rising in short, labored bursts. Behind her, the veins of glowing ore in the cave walls pulsed with a rhythmic heartbeat, as if the earth itself was listening.

Savannah slowed, boots crunching over bones and old dust, her voice low. "You didn’t leave much of a choice, Mag. You vanished during a war council. Rhett was ready to tear down half the estate to find you."

Magnolia didn’t turn. "He shouldn’t have come either."

"I didn’t come for him," Savannah snapped. "I came for you. Because whatever is happening down here, it’s already changing you."

From the far corner of the chamber, Camille stirred. Her eyes were wide, bloodshot, fevered. She was bound at the wrists by a rope made of ashwood fibers and ancient glyphs etched in red. Beckett crouched beside her, wounded and pale, holding a cloth to his side where claws had torn deep.

"She’s not lying," Beckett murmured. "This place... it’s alive. And it’s waking up."

Rhett stepped forward, his presence commanding even in the low firelight. His coat was dusted in cave debris, one hand curled protectively around the hilt of his blade. "What did you find, Magnolia?"

She finally turned. Her eyes shimmered with a golden hue, iridescent like molten sunlight. But it wasn’t just her eyes. Her skin glowed faintly, as if fire lived beneath it. She held out a stone tablet, worn and fractured, with a crest marked in Hollowfang blood.

"I found the truth," she said, voice shaking. "We’re not just descendants of the Hollowfangs. We were bred from them, altered. I wasn’t born with a gift. I was forged with one."

Camille groaned behind her, tugging at the bindings. "It’s the Pact Stone," she hissed. "You touched it, didn’t you?"

Magnolia nodded. "It called to me. And when I touched it... I saw everything. Sterling didn’t just lead a rebellion. He rewrote bloodlines. He experimented. Twisted the old wolves to create something stronger. And we’re the result."

Savannah stared. "You’re saying we’re... engineered?"

"No," Magnolia replied. "I’m saying we were chosen. Forced into something ancient. Something that was buried for a reason."

Rhett looked toward the glowing ore lines spreading outward from the stone altar like veins. "Why now? Why is it calling to you now?"

Magnolia’s voice lowered. "Because the seal is breaking. The Syndicate isn’t just after power. They’re trying to awaken what Sterling buried here. The original Hollowfang Prime."

Beckett choked. "The first wolf?"

Camille went rigid. "No. The last god."

The silence cracked like a whip.

Savannah stepped forward, voice hoarse. "What are you talking about?"

Camille’s head lolled toward her. "Sterling’s legacy wasn’t dominance. It was suppression. He defeated something not by killing it, but by binding it. And now the Syndicate is unraveling that chain."

Magnolia stepped toward the altar. Her hair drifted around her shoulders as if caught in a breeze none of them felt. The Pact Stone began to hum in her hand.

"I can feel it. It wants me. Not to worship. Not to kneel. To become."

Rhett’s voice was a growl. "You’re not letting it take you."

"I’m not sure I have a choice."

The torchlight flickered, and the floor beneath them quaked. Dust fell from the ceiling. The heartbeat in the ore lines quickened. Something massive moved beneath the ground.

A low moan echoed through the cavern walls. Not mechanical. Not human. Something ancient and furious. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Camille screamed, twisting against her bonds. "It’s waking up! You triggered it!"

"I didn’t mean to!" Magnolia shouted back, throwing the stone across the room. It shattered against the far wall, and the pulse halted.

Everything went still.

Then from the crack in the earth, smoke curled. Not gray. Not black.

Crimson.

Beckett staggered to his feet. "That’s blood-smoke. It’s not supposed to exist outside of the cursed plains."

Rhett drew his blade. "Everyone out. Now."

But the way back had vanished.

The entrance tunnel was sealed with bone. Real bone. Thick ribs of a creature too large for logic to explain. Savannah’s breath hitched as she reached toward it, and felt warmth. Not from heat.

From memory.

"I’ve seen this before," she whispered. "In dreams. The bones. The smoke. The fire."

Camille’s eyes narrowed. "Then this is where your nightmares end."

Without warning, Camille surged forward, hands ablaze with red fire, burning through her bonds. Beckett tried to stop her, but she sent him flying into the altar.

"Camille, no!" Magnolia cried, racing forward.

But Camille touched the blood-soaked sigil on the wall.

The cave exploded with light.

Flames danced from the walls like whips. The ore veins ignited, turning gold to red. And in the center of the chamber, rising from the crack where the Pact Stone had shattered, came a form, smoke first, then claws, then eyes glowing the color of decayed suns.

It didn’t speak.

It didn’t need to.

The power it exuded crushed the breath from their lungs. Magnolia fell to her knees. Rhett stumbled. Savannah covered her ears, as the creature’s presence thundered in her skull without a word.

And Camille?

She stood smiling.

"Meet your god," she whispered.

The creature turned to her, then to Magnolia.

And spoke.

"You carry my fire."

Magnolia’s eyes went wide, glowing gold. "I’m not yours."

"Then you will be," it replied. "When the blood burns clean."

Suddenly, Camille shrieked.

The creature reached a claw toward her, and branded her forehead with fire.

She collapsed instantly, twitching, smoking, unmoving.

The entity withdrew.

"Your pact is sealed. My time nears."

Then it vanished back into the smoke.

Magnolia raced to Camille’s side. "Cam! Cam!"

Her pulse was weak. But alive.

Savannah fell to the ground, shivering. "What the hell was that?"

Rhett helped Beckett up, jaw locked. "The future. Or the end of one."

Magnolia looked up, voice hollow. "The fire isn’t a gift. It’s a curse. We weren’t born to rule. We were born to hold back that thing."

Savannah wiped blood from her lip. "Then let’s learn how to kill a god."

From the altar, the last of the blood-smoke slithered upward, toward the cracks in the rock. The air reeked of iron and ash. Something had changed, forever.

And none of them were ready.