The Forgotten Pulse of the Bond-Chapter 81: Blood Between the Stars

"Hold him down!"

The scream cracked through the air, ripping through the trees like a curse. Rhett’s voice was iron and flame, his hands already slick with sweat and blood as he fought to keep the young wolf from shifting.

A crescent moon bled light overhead. The rebel encampment had been quiet, until now.

Beckett staggered back as the thrashing boy let out a cry that wasn’t human anymore. His bones cracked beneath his skin. Flesh tore. Fur pushed through muscle. Something ancient, something wild, had awakened in him. Too early.

"He’s not ready!" Celeste cried, clutching a rune stone in one palm, its surface glowing dimly.

"Neither were we," Rhett growled.

Then came the shift.

A wave of raw magic exploded outward. Everyone around the circle stumbled. The boy, Niko, fell to his knees, the transformation incomplete. One arm remained human, the other fully turned. His mouth twisted in pain as his fangs protruded, half-formed. Blood spilled from his nose, from his eyes.

"Rhett, he’ll die," Celeste warned.

"He’s a Hollowfang. They either break early or never at all," Rhett muttered. He stared at the boy through narrowed eyes, willing him to survive it. "Come on. Come on, fight through it." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Niko howled, then collapsed.

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

The camp held its breath.

And then, Niko exhaled. The glow faded. The wolf inside him... subsided.

"Get him to the healer’s tent," Rhett ordered. His voice was colder than the mountain wind.

As the others carried the boy off, Beckett stepped closer. "That was a dangerous call."

"So is letting him believe he’s safe in a world that wants him dead," Rhett said flatly.

Beckett shook his head. "You’re becoming more like your father."

"No," Rhett said, turning to face him fully, eyes burning gold. "My father would have let him die to make a point. I won’t. But I also won’t coddle anyone in this war."

He turned, staring up at the moon. It had been fractured since the last blood rite, split into three jagged arcs in the sky. Each piece pulsed like it remembered something. The wolves had begun to change under it. Their tempers. Their senses. Their dreams.

Celeste moved beside him, her voice softer now. "They’re afraid of you, Rhett."

"They should be," he replied without flinching.

"They’re also loyal."

"For now."

Celeste studied him. "And when the Hollowfang elders come for your head?"

"I’ll meet them," Rhett said. "With fire. And truth."

She frowned. "What truth?"

"That I never belonged to them. That I was forged from betrayal and clawed my name into this world without ever being given one. That I’ll burn every blood oath that binds me, and write my own."

Her breath hitched. "You really mean to go through with it."

He looked at her, finally. "Tonight."

The ceremonial pyre stood at the far edge of the ravine, where no echo could reach the old council stones. Rhett stood alone before it, bare-chested, moonlight dancing across the scars on his back, each one a memory of servitude, punishment, and silence.

In his palm, he held his father’s crest, an iron insignia shaped like a roaring fang with a serpent’s tail wrapping through it. Cold. Heavy. Still stained with the blood of wolves who had died in the last purge.

One by one, members of the rogue pack gathered around, forming a silent ring.

No one spoke.

Rhett raised the crest high, his voice clear.

"This was the mark of my birth. It was never a gift."

The wind picked up, pulling at his hair, his breath.

"It was a chain."

He looked at each of them. The broken. The betrayed. The ones who had followed him not because he asked, but because they believed.

"I sever all blood not earned."

He cast the crest into the fire.

It screamed. Metal warped. The symbol melted as though it couldn’t bear the truth of its rejection.

Flames burst higher, blue and violet now, wild with the presence of magic older than any of them.

The ground trembled. Not much. Just enough to be felt in the bones.

And from the shadows, someone moved forward.

Wulfric.

Rhett stiffened.

Wulfric was one of the last of his father’s old lieutenants. Gray streaks lined his beard now, but his arms were still thick with muscle, and his eyes still gleamed like daggers under a moon.

"You think fire makes you clean?" Wulfric said, stepping into the light.

"No," Rhett replied. "But it shows who’s willing to be burned for what they believe."

Wulfric snorted. "You’ve become a boy playing Alpha in the woods."

"Say that again," Rhett growled.

Wulfric grinned. "You heard me. You burned the crest, but you still carry the blood. You can’t sever what’s in you."

"Then come take it," Rhett snapped, stepping into the circle.

Gasps rippled around them.

A challenge.

Old laws bound them now.

Wulfric pulled off his coat. "I’ll rip the Hollowfang name from your bones myself."

They circled each other, barefoot in the dirt. The fire crackled louder. The moon above pulsed.

Wulfric struck first, fast for his age, fists like stone.

Rhett blocked, ducked, swung back.

Their bodies collided, twisted, bled.

No shifting.

No magic.

Just raw will.

Minutes passed. Blood hit the dirt. Wulfric grunted as Rhett landed a savage knee to his ribs. But the older wolf retaliated, slamming his forehead into Rhett’s brow, splitting skin.

Both men staggered.

Breathing hard.

And then Rhett stepped forward. Unshaken.

He drove his fist into Wulfric’s gut, then lifted him by the throat and threw him onto the pyre’s edge.

Flames licked his back.

Wulfric screamed, not in pain, but fury.

"You’ll regret this," he spat.

"I already regret everything before this," Rhett said coldly. "Now? I make my own oath."

And with that, he turned his back.

Wulfric didn’t rise.

The pack watched. Silent. Awed.

Beckett stepped forward. "What now?"

Rhett wiped blood from his mouth. "Now we finish what the Hollowfangs started, and end the war they were too afraid to fight."

Behind him, the fire cracked louder.

And somewhere in the trees, another howl answered.

One not from their pack.

Celeste’s voice was low. "They’re coming."

Rhett didn’t flinch. "Then let them come."