The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 150

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 150**

In the midst of chaos, Damon found himself engulfed by an overwhelming wave of fury that surged through him like a tempest. It was as if the very essence of his rage had manifested physically, betraying him in a moment of vulnerability. Blood erupted from his lips, staining the ground beneath him, and he crumpled to the earth, the metallic tang of iron mingling with the acrid scent of his anger, filling the air with an unsettling intensity.

Aysel stood amidst the tumult, the murmurs of the pack and the onlookers swirling around her like restless autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind. She allowed herself a fleeting glance back at Damon, but it was a single, deliberate moment. His figure was swiftly engulfed by the throng, disappearing like a solitary wolf banished from its territory, lost to the shadows. Aysel’s gaze drifted over the scene, her heart detached, almost finding humor in the madness that surrounded her.

In this world, she mused, some beings were indeed peculiar. They could possess a love that burned fiercely, accepting a child not of their blood, yet when the moment arose to stand resolutely by her side, they faltered, lacking the courage to act. Aysel realized that such creatures were hardly worth her time; the unfathomable could remain a mystery, untouched and unexplored.

With a dismissive wave, she brushed aside the unexpected encounter with her former Alpha, redirecting her attention to Magnus, who stood nearby. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she teased, “So… where’s the hyacinth from our pack?” The lightness in her tone belied the gravity of the situation.

Magnus, having absorbed her earlier declaration—“Our pack does not need gifts from a third party”—responded with a calmness that befitted a true Alpha. “I had Daron take it away,” he replied, his voice steady and authoritative.

Aysel shook her head, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “Some Alphas strut around as if they’re invincible, yet they can’t even handle a single flower, can they?” Her laughter was infectious, a bright note amidst the somber atmosphere.

Magnus returned her smile, warmth radiating from his presence as he clasped her hand. “Yes… I admit, I’m jealous,” he confessed, his tone shifting to one of playful seriousness.

“Just remember, no accepting flowers from other males, alright?” he growled, a low, possessive rumble hinting at the predator lurking within.

“Magnus,” she shot back with a sly grin, “haven’t you learned? Men who try to control every little thing rarely find favor.” Her words were laced with a teasing challenge.

He pondered her statement, his brow furrowing in mock seriousness before he let out a resigned growl. “Then… you’ll simply have to endure me for the rest of your life.”

“Such a tyrant,” she laughed, feigning shock as she wrapped her arms around his, leaning into him with a lighthearted surrender. “Then I accept your tyranny.”

Magnus’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, the tension between them easing as a newfound understanding blossomed.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify