The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 156

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 156**

From a distance, the atmosphere in the Sanchez den felt charged, almost electric, as if the very walls were aware of the unspoken tension swirling within. Bastien pressed his lips into a tight line, his amber eyes fixed intently on Alfie. The young wolf’s calm exterior stood in stark contrast to the palpable unease that filled the hall, a tension that seemed to vibrate in the air like a taut string ready to snap.

Bastien’s emotions toward Alfie were a tangled web. There was no simple affection, nor outright disdain—just a gnawing guilt that clung to him like a shadow. Alfie had made his position clear: Aysel would be under his protection tonight. This was Alfie’s inaugural visit to the ancestral den, and regardless of his feelings, he would be accorded the respect and recognition that came with his lineage.

With a keen awareness, Bastien sensed the subtle shifts in the atmosphere, the undercurrents of unspoken challenges and alliances at play.

Magnus’ gaze, sharp and predatory, had zeroed in on Alfie the moment he stepped into the room. The so-called cousin and de facto little uncle was scrutinized with a predator’s intensity. Bastien observed as Alfie cast seemingly casual glances toward Aysel, a wolf assessing potential prey, weighing the risks of confrontation against the desire to retreat. Magnus tightened his grip on Aysel’s hand, his clawed fingers brushing against hers in a silent exchange that spoke volumes.

In that charged moment, the two men’s amber eyes locked, a silent battle of wills igniting in the air between them. Magnus’ brow furrowed, a storm of barely contained aggression brewing just beneath the surface. Alfie, caught in the crosshairs of their silent war, froze momentarily before offering a resigned, almost sardonic smile—an acknowledgment of the inevitable clash that loomed.

Yet Aysel remained blissfully unaware—or perhaps willfully indifferent—to the unspoken dynamics at play. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, as it roamed the apex of the hall, her expression a mask of mockery and confidence. A faint, teasing smile danced on her lips as she turned her attention to Bastien, her tone sweet as moonlight but edged with an unmistakable steeliness.

“Grandfather, your judgment is always fair, and your daughter has your protection,” she stated, tilting her head slightly, the gesture imbued with playful defiance. “But I can’t help but wonder if our dear Magnus ever had such vigilance when he was just a pup?”

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