The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 120

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 120**

**Aysel’s POV**

The incessant ringing of my phone sliced through the tranquil veil of sleep, pulling me back into the waking world with a jolt.

I groaned, burrowing deeper into the cocoon of my blankets, my eyelids pressed shut against the unwelcome light. My hand flailed around blindly, searching for the source of the disturbance until my fingers finally grazed the familiar surface of my phone. A dull throb pulsed in my head, a reminder of last night’s indulgence in moon-wine and the overactive senses of my wolf.

With a reluctant sigh, I answered the call, still half-dreaming.

“Aysel, you’ve got some nerve,” came a voice, laced with amusement and irritation. “The sky outside has practically torn itself open.”

Serena.

Of course it was her.

She had been relentless, calling me repeatedly since last night, her attempts cut off only by my phone being completely powered down. I could almost hear the exasperation in her voice, as if her patience had been stretched thin, ready to snap.

I squinted at the call log, the number of missed calls glaring back at me like a badge of her determination. It was clear she had tried to blow up my phone, and I couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

It wasn’t hard to deduce who had pressed the power button for me last night.

“Serena…” I mumbled, burying my face deeper into the pillow, my voice muffled and thick with sleep. “What’s so urgent?”

Without wasting a moment, she went straight for the jugular.

“You told me the Moonvale elders and Damon would come running to rescue Celestine Ward. They haven’t shown up.”

I rolled my eyes, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. “They probably got tangled up in their own affairs. But with their personalities, they won’t abandon her.”

I paused, a prickle of annoyance creeping in. “And what? Ironhowl has nothing better to do? You have to hover over a minor matter like a hawk?”

Serena’s tone dripped with a bored menace. “No choice. The old Alpha is in a foul mood lately. Everything I do seems to annoy him. I need him to vent somewhere else so I can have some peace.”

Since Serena and I had joined forces to take down Knox Draven, our communication had been frequent, almost like a lifeline in the chaos that surrounded us.

If Moonvale hadn’t been so entertaining recently, the entire continent would still be buzzing with gossip about Ironhowl’s pampered young master—rumors swirling about his preferences, tales of chaotic nights at bars, and the scandal of him clinging to Moonvale’s second heir at a pack banquet.

Knox had left the country, stripped of his former life, his family’s protection ripped away. The Ironhowl patriarch had no choice but to disown him, casting him out without grace, leaving him vulnerable in South.

But the old wolf’s resentment ran deep, a festering wound that refused to heal.

Celestine, the beloved of Moonvale, was the spark that ignited Knox’s downfall—his bitterness towards her as deep as a scar etched into his very being.

Causing Moonvale to lose a few projects or delaying processes would never ease the ache of losing his cherished grandson. Even Serena, the future successor, had borne the brunt of his constant nitpicking and dissatisfaction.

So when Celestine found herself in trouble, it was clear to Serena what it meant:

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