The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 126

Chapter 126

Third Person’s POV

“What?! Still going to the iron den?!”

The Ironhowl Council den was tense. Serena sat with serene authority on the high dais, while Alpha Remus and Fenrir crouched low in submission beneath her, tails tucked, ears flicking with restrained fury. The veins along Remus’ neck pulsed visibly, and the exhaustion of the past days made his fur bristle unevenly.

“Miss Draven,” Remus growled, jaw tight, “this wasn’t the accord we struck before.”

Serena’s amber eyes glimmered with patience and steel as she spread her claws, a gesture both placating and final. “Celestine Ward’s attack is undeniable. Her claws left evidence, and she was caught red-pawed. Agnes’ kin insist on pursuing the matter. Even if I wished to intervene fully, the laws of our packs cannot be ignored. Negotiating her sentence down to two moons was already the maximum I could claw back.”

Fenrir’s ears flattened in frustration. “Such a grand feast, yet you hand us a sixty-percent portion. Miss Draven, do you not fear spoiling our appetites?”

A slow, predatory smile curved Serena’s muzzle. “Truth be told, if the Moonvale Pack had not shown genuine intent, I would not have clawed even sixty percent. Celestine’s ruin cost Knox Draven dearly-he is one of only two heirs I can entrust to my legacy. My sire’s tempered fury demanded satisfaction. Risking his wrath for your sake was… sufficient challenge.”

Remus and Fenrir could only lower their heads.

Serena softened just slightly, her tail flicking with controlled amusement. “Two moons are fleeting. Mask it, and it will pass. I can ensure the matter remains hidden… though gossip and scent trails beyond my control may yet spread.”

The Moonvale father and son left the Ironhowl den with gnawing frustration clawing at their bellies, but they had no teeth left to bite back. Now, the only task was mitigating the fallout Celestine’s punishment might cause to the Moonvale Pack’s standing. Reclaiming the shares and estates from the fallen Ward was no longer a punishment-it was necessity.

Serena, pleased with the scent of victory lingering on her claws, reported the proceedings to Aysel. The Moonvale heiress, ever attentive, listened. Besides the Moonvale, Damon had also approached Serena. Unlike the Moonvale, Damon had been clever, bypassing requests for reconciliatory writs entirely, instead trading favors in the shadowed corridors of pack politics.

1/3

A prime territory had been secured for her, the soil rich, the position unassailable.

“During the signing, Alpha Blackwood himself appeared,” Serena recounted, “but the contracts were etched and clawed into the stone. The old wolf’s muzzle turned green with rage, berating Damon for losing his mind over a she-wolf. If the pack hadn’t restrained him, I swear he would have leapt to end his son.”

Aysel’s ears twitched imperceptibly.

“Impossible…” Serena’s voice lowered, her grin wolfish, “you planned this, didn’t you?”

Aysel remained silent, letting her eyes gleam in tacit confirmation.

“Remarkable,” Serena murmured. Celestin’s misstep had been leveraged with exquisite precision. Following this path, Aysel anticipated nothing more thrilling than the inevitable clash of packs and loyalty fractures. Even once released, the Ward would haunt Damon Blackwood like a desperate, whining ghost. The intrigue made Serena’s teeth itch with anticipation.

During Celestine’s time in the iron den, rumors spread among the lesser packs: her rebellious temper had led to a violent scuffle with fellow inmates, leaving her left leg shattered, splintered bone and all. Even her silvered blood-the lifeblood that should have accelerated her wolfish regeneration-stalled and failed, poisoned by the den’s cursed wards that suppressed the full awakening of her lupine self. Word reached the capital’s networks as Aysel wandered the Shadowbane Pack’s market streets with Magnus, choosing attire.

The injury caused barely a ripple in the city’s undercurrents. Predators online tore into her reputation mercilessly, not mourning any stage glory but striking her down as a fallen prey, and

yet the justice served those she had wronged.

Moonvale kin fretted over her, visiting repeatedly, but Celestine’s inability to dance-a mere mortal luxury-elicited no genuine empathy. Her crippled limbs were a lesson, not a tragedy; the masters had nearly ostracized her already. Worse, her pride and fury had prompted the scuffle in the den.

The focus shifted instead to the severity of her broken leg. Older, wearied by the strain of years, Alpha Remus observed with cold fury, seeing the once-proud Ward reduced to a hobbled creature. The Moonvale had exhausted their mercy.

“Whether she recovers or not is no one’s decree but fate’s.”

2/3

Aysel shoved a cobalt dress back into the armoire, shifting her attention. “Lyall Sanchez returns? So suddenly?”

Lyall Sanchez, fifth of the Sanchez Pack, had once prized love over dominion, an outlawed figure in his own family, now scarcely whispered of in old corridors. The call summoning Magnus back had piqued her curiosity.

“Magnus, do you know him well? The tales say he spurns power entirely.”

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