The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 69: Blood Oath Beneath the Crescent Moon

"I should’ve let you bleed."

Magnolia didn’t flinch at Beckett’s words. She knelt by the glowing firelight that cracked across the stone wall of the Callahan war tent, her hands still red, the shift residue thick beneath her fingernails. Beckett lay stretched on the cot, his side wrapped in gauze soaked pink. His golden eyes were wild, flickering between anger and disbelief.

"Then next time, bleed quieter," she replied, her tone ice-covered steel.

He laughed bitterly and winced. "That mouth of yours is going to get us both killed."

Savannah entered then, dragging the flap aside with force. Her face was pale but determined. Behind her, Rhett stood like a living stormcloud. The rest of the pack had gathered outside the tent, their murmurs loud enough to split silence. Rumor spread like wildfire, that the girl with no bloodline, no training, had turned fully and lived. Worse, she had saved a warrior.

"They want answers," Savannah said, her voice tight. "They saw your shift. They saw you tear through a Syndicate scout like he was air."

Magnolia stood, brushing dried blood from her pants. "Then let them ask their questions."

"They’re not asking. They’re deciding," Rhett replied. "And some don’t like what they’ve seen."

"What exactly did they see, Alpha?" Magnolia asked, stepping forward. "A girl save your soldier? Or the truth you’ve kept buried too long?"

Beckett sat up suddenly, groaning, hand clutching his ribs. "Enough with the riddles. Say it plain. She shifted. She’s not dead. She’s not broken. So either she’s pack or she’s threat."

"She’s something else," Rhett said after a beat. "Which is why she needs to take the Oath."

The war tent went quiet. Even the night outside seemed to pause. Magnolia blinked. "The Blood Oath?"

"Tonight. Before the Crescent reaches its peak. Or we lose them all."

Savannah looked between them. "You can’t force her."

"I won’t force her," Rhett said. "But if she doesn’t, they will. And they won’t be gentle."

Outside, a sharp howl broke the air, not of pain, but command. A call to witness.

Magnolia stepped forward, slowly. "Fine. I take your Oath. But I choose who binds me."

Rhett arched a brow. "You get one choice."

Her eyes cut to Beckett.

He scoffed. "You’re insane."

"Maybe," she replied. "But you owe me a life. And I don’t want anyone else holding mine."

Beckett looked at Rhett. Rhett gave a nod.

The clearing was lit by fire, the pack circled like wolves around prey. The Crescent Moon hung low, blood-tinged and full of omen. Magnolia stood barefoot in the center, a blade in one hand, a strip of silk in the other. Beckett joined her, face pale, wounds still raw, but no less imposing.

Savannah watched with arms folded. Rhett stood at the front of the circle, the ceremonial dagger unsheathed in his hand. He offered it to Magnolia. She took it without blinking.

"Name?" Rhett asked.

"Magnolia," she said. "No surname. Just scars."

"Do you stand by the Pack, even in ruin?"

"I do."

"Do you give your blood, and bind it in oath, to protect and obey its charge?"

Magnolia cut her palm.

"Who stands as your witness?"

She turned to Beckett. "He does."

Beckett hesitated, then took the blade, sliced his hand.

They pressed palms.

The fire roared higher.

A gust of wind tore through the clearing. And then a sound like bones cracking. From the far end of the circle, someone growled. Deep. Not celebratory. Threatening.

A shadow moved. Then another.

"Shift!" someone screamed.

"Ambush!"

The ceremony dissolved into chaos. Syndicate warriors, cloaked in camouflage, burst through the trees. Their eyes burned with crimson. One lunged at Beckett.

Magnolia pulled him aside, spun, and flung her blade. It buried deep into a chest. Another came. She kicked hard. It went down.

Savannah had a pistol raised, firing without pause.

Rhett was a blur of shadow and rage.

But the Blood Oath was broken.

And in its place, only fire and screams.

"Is he breathing?" Savannah’s voice trembled as she dropped to her knees beside the bloodied body. Her hands hovered over Beckett’s chest, not daring to touch, as if her palms might shatter what was left of him.

Rhett knelt beside her, pressing two fingers to the boy’s neck. "Barely."

The firelight from the makeshift camp danced across Beckett’s bruised face. The poisoned claw marks on his ribs glowed faintly under the moonlight, their edges pulsing like embers. Time was slipping through their fingers.

"He needs Magnolia," Rhett said, rising to his feet. "Now."

Savannah looked toward the darkening path, eyes wild. "She’s not back. What if she doesn’t come?"

"She will."

The wind carried the scent of ash and blood, heavy and cloying. The small camp Rhett had set up to regroup was barely holding. Shadows flickered across the trees, and every rustle, every snap of twigs sounded like an ambush.

A groan escaped Beckett’s lips. Savannah leaned closer, clutching his hand. "Stay with me, okay? You don’t get to leave. Not like this."

He blinked slowly, pain clouding his gaze. "Did... did Camille..."

"She’s alive," Savannah lied quickly. "But you have to stay with us. For her."

Rhett paced near the fire, hand twitching near the hilt of his blade. His instincts screamed that this place was compromised. The Hollowfangs wouldn’t let Beckett live if they knew he had survived. And if they’d tracked him here...

Suddenly, a howl split the forest. Low. Powerful. Familiar.

Rhett’s eyes snapped up. "She’s close."

Moments later, the underbrush exploded in a blur of white and gold. Magnolia, fully shifted, leapt into the clearing. Her form was massive, easily larger than any other wolf Rhett had seen. Her fur shimmered like sunlit frost, and her eyes glowed like twin moons.

She shifted back mid-leap, landing gracefully on bare feet, nude but uncaring. Blood smeared her arms, and her hair hung in wild tangles around her face. "What happened to him?" she barked, dropping to her knees beside Beckett.

"He was ambushed," Rhett answered. "Poisoned. Claws laced with Syndicate venom."

Magnolia’s hands hovered above Beckett’s wounds. "That poison’s rare. Expensive. They wanted him dead, not wounded."

Savannah’s voice was tight. "Can you heal him?"

"I can try."

Magnolia closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. Her palms began to glow with a soft, golden hue. The light seeped into Beckett’s chest, and the boy arched in agony, a scream ripping from his throat.

Savannah flinched. "You’re hurting him."

"I have to," Magnolia said through clenched teeth. "This isn’t healing. It’s extraction. I’m pulling the venom out before it reaches his heart."

Rhett stood guard, watching the forest. His ears strained for any other sound, any indication they weren’t alone.

Magnolia pressed harder. Beckett thrashed, his legs kicking against the dirt. The glow in Magnolia’s hands intensified, and then, with a sharp gasp, she yanked her palms away.

Black smoke curled from the claw marks. The scent was acrid, burning, like melted iron. Beckett slumped, unconscious.

"Is he...?" Savannah began.

"He’ll live," Magnolia said, her voice hoarse. "But he needs rest. And protection. They’ll come again."

Suddenly, a whistle pierced the silence.

Rhett spun, weapon drawn. "We’re not alone."

Figures emerged from the treeline. Five. No, seven. All dressed in matte black armor, faces obscured. Hollowfangs.

Savannah grabbed Beckett’s body, dragging him toward the fire. Magnolia shifted instantly, snarling as her claws dug into the dirt.

Rhett stepped forward, voice low and deadly. "This is your only warning. Turn around."

One of the Hollowfangs stepped ahead of the others. Female. Her mask shimmered, revealing the crest of Sterling burned into the fabric.

"You’re protecting a traitor," she said. "He stole Syndicate secrets. He dies tonight."

"He’s a child," Savannah snapped.

"All the more reason to cut the roots before they strangle the tree."

Magnolia lunged first. A blur of white and fury, she tore into the flank of the group, scattering them. The clearing erupted into chaos, blades clashing, wolves snarling, firelight flickering over bloodied dirt.

Savannah shielded Beckett’s body, using the fire as cover. She found a fallen dagger nearby and gripped it tightly.

Rhett met the masked woman in battle, their strikes vicious and calculated. She was fast. Too fast. And her eyes held no fear, only cold resolve.

"You’re not taking him," Rhett growled, parrying her blade.

"You don’t have a choice."

As they fought, a second wolf joined the fray. Not Magnolia. Not Hollowfang. Someone else.

A rogue.

The wolf barreled through the attackers, scattering bodies. It was lean, scarred, and missing an eye, but it fought with a rage that turned the tide.

"Who the hell, " Savannah whispered.

The rogue wolf turned once, briefly locking eyes with Rhett. Recognition flashed.

"Kade?" Rhett gasped.

The wolf growled, confirming.

The Hollowfangs retreated, dragging their wounded with them. "This isn’t over," the masked leader hissed, vanishing into the shadows.

Silence returned, broken only by Beckett’s ragged breathing.

Kade shifted slowly, panting. His body was a map of old battles and new scars. "Told you I wasn’t dead."

Rhett stared. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Biding my time," Kade said. "And watching the wrong wolves win."

Savannah knelt beside Beckett, brushing hair from his face. "He’s still burning up."

Magnolia touched her shoulder. "I’ll stay with him."

Rhett looked at the remnants of the battle, the torn earth, the blood, the smoke.

"They’re escalating," he said grimly.

Kade nodded. "And they’re not done."

A new howl echoed in the distance. Not one of warning. One of command.

Magnolia’s eyes widened. "That’s not one of ours."

Rhett met her gaze. "Then we find out who it is, before they find us."