The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147

Third Person’s POV

Magnus had already brought Aysel to the Healers’ Pavilion to visit Bastien, so he didn’t rush to leave. Instead, he planned to take her for another full checkup.

Aysel, who had grown tired of medicines and herbal wolf-tonics, looked utterly resistant.

“I’m really fine,” she protested, tail twitching in annoyance, “Do you still not trust Kian’s medical skill?”

Magnus frowned, gold predator-eyes narrowing.

“I heard you cough last night.”

“I just choked on water when I got up.”

“A checkup won’t hurt.”

His hand lifted, ready to scoop her off her feet like the possessive

he was.

Aysel pouted, grabbed his wrist, and crouched down dramatically, clinging to him like a little moon-wolf begging for mercy.

“Save me. Seeing healers is so annoying.”

It was the first time Magnus had ever seen her throw a tantrum like that. His wolf, Rafe, even huffed in amused disbelief. He was just about to relent-to tell her that if she truly disliked it, he would let it go-when a voice rang out behind them, tinged with shock and delight:

“Aysel!”

Damon Blackwood.

Damon had come to the Healers’ Pavilion for business, not expecting to run straight into her.

These days, nothing in his life moved smoothly.

His father-Alpha Blackwood-had changed in ways Damon still didn’t fully understand. Ever since signing the land-transfer treaty with Serena Draven and the Ironhowl Pack, Alpha Blackwood’s attitude had shifted entirely.

The business responsibilities he once let go-handed to Damon with the expectation of

1/5

grooming a successor-were suddenly being reclaimed with increasingly suffocating control.

Two Alphas cannot reign over the same den.

When his father willingly loosened authority before, Damon had flourished-sharpening his claws, dominating the markets, proving his capability time and again.

Everyone knew he excelled.

Everyone acknowledged he would inherit the Eastern throne.

But now?

His father was pulling it all back, piece by piece.

Just yesterday his mother had quietly warned him his father was acting strangely.

He caught the hidden meaning instantly.

He had argued back-hot, wounded pride lashing out-only to receive a complex, heavy look

in return.

Damon had always been immaculate.

In his youth, in his academy years, in the business arena-he had been victorious, unstoppable, the perfect young wolf groomed to lead.

Alpha Blackwood adored him.

Even with secrets, even with an outside lover, the Alpha shielded his heir ferociously.

Damon was the chosen successor.

The son others envied.

Until he faltered-more than once-for Celestine Ward.

He had been spoiled by success, and his father had finally glimpsed the crack beneath the polished armor:

An Alpha who was decisive in the arena, but hesitant in matters of the heart.

Such weaknesses did not stay isolated.

In the wolf world, one fracture could spread through the entire foundation.

2/5

And Damon’s emotional chaos had begun to drag down his work.

Magnus’s sudden rise had only magnified the danger.

Alpha Blackwood-ever the old fox-knew better than to place every egg in the same nest.

He had begun planning alternatives.

Which meant Damon had been pushed back into a probationary period-forced to prove himself again.

For the first time, he confronted the cold, ruthless reality of his father.

The collapse of that lifelong belief-my father will always stand behind me-left him frozen inside.

But once a wolf had tasted the peak of power, how could he ever return to being anyone’s second?

The once-unshakeable bond between father and son-between mentor and heir-had quietly begun to fracture.

Damon resented it.

Yet he also felt the raw thrill of it-like facing down the one enemy who understood him best.

The savage exhilaration of symbolically slaying one’s creator burned through his veins.

He realized:

To truly claim the Blackwood throne, he had to topple the greatest obstacle in his path—

his father.

And wasn’t this another kind of trial?

Another hunt he must win?

In this storm of pressure, Damon instinctively thought of Aysel.

If there was anyone in the world who had once supported him without calculation, without hesitation-who had trusted him absolutely, even if it meant burning the world—

it had been Aysel.

3/5

Ever since she was six, Aysel had possessed so little in life that she clung fiercely to the people she loved, with a devotion bordering on obsession.

Those who didn’t know her thought she was crazy.

Those who had been loved by her knew the truth:

There was nothing more precious than being the one person she chose.

Her loyalty was intoxicating.

She had been Damon’s most reliable spiritual haven.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify