The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 192

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 192**

**Aysel’s POV**

Skylar’s gaze was fixed on me, a glint of satisfaction dancing in her eyes that only a Frostfang wolf could muster—sharp, discerning, and just a touch too smug for my liking. She leaned back slightly, her posture relaxed yet confident, as if she were about to share a particularly juicy piece of gossip.

“I must say,” she began, her lips curling into a teasing smile, “I never anticipated that the illustrious heir of Shadowbane would behave quite like that when he’s in your company.” Her laughter chimed softly, a sound that felt both familiar and comforting. “He’s essentially a clingy overgrown wolfhound, isn’t he?”

I couldn’t help but snort at her description. “You’re not wrong, you know.”

“But truly,” she continued, her playful tone shifting to something more sincere, “seeing how effortlessly you and Magnus fit together… it finally eases my mind.” A wave of relief washed over her features, softening the sharp lines of her earlier amusement.

If today’s events had revolved around Damon Blackwood instead of Magnus, Skylar was acutely aware that the outcome would have been drastically different. Magnus was… better for me in ways I was still learning to appreciate. He was like a steady storm, a darkness that enveloped me but didn’t consume me entirely. He was a flame that illuminated my path without burning me alive.

Her expression shifted, warmth radiating from her as the old ache in my chest began to loosen its grip. Magnus was many things—Alpha supreme of the Shadowbane Pack, the strongest wolf on the continent, a being forged from nightsteel and shadowfire—but Skylar had been my steadfast companion through the darkest years of my youth.

One was the sharp moonlight that found me late at night, illuminating my fears.

The other was the solitary lantern that kept me alive long enough to see the dawn break.

Both were different kinds of light, and both were irreplaceable in their own right.

We lingered in that soft, quiet moment, our shoulders brushing against each other, our wolves humming in mutual ease. But soon, Skylar’s expression sharpened, her wolf instincts kicking in.

“Aysel,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “what do you intend to do about Celestine Ward? And Damon Blackwood? And the Moonvale elders?” Her eyes narrowed, a fierce intensity igniting within them. “Legally, they’ll only be seen as unwitting accomplices. What Dariusz provided us isn’t nearly enough to pierce their armor.”

She was absolutely right. And neither of us had any intention of allowing them to escape unscathed.

I exhaled slowly, the breath curling in the air like frost on a winter’s morning. “Every cause has its consequence. They chose Celestine, so they will bear the weight of everything she drags to their doorstep.”

Skylar’s wolf growled softly in agreement, a low rumble that resonated between us.

“Dariusz’s matter stays buried for now,” I continued, my voice steady and resolute. “Once Damon and Celestine finally bind themselves—mate marks, vows, everything sealed—I’ll send them a gift they’ll remember for the rest of their lives.”

A smile crept onto her lips, sharp and predatory, the essence of Frostfang coursing through her veins.

“And what of the Moonvale Pack?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued.

I turned my gaze toward the window, the horizon stretching far and wide, yet it felt closer than the day my dear sister would finally step out of prison.

“Let them wait,” I murmured, my voice laced with determination. “My good sister will be released soon. I’ll be there to welcome her personally.”

Celestine Ward could savor these final scraps of freedom however she wished. Let her shine briefly, burn brightly, and delude herself into believing the world still adored her.

From nothing,

to everything rebuilt,

to falling publicly,

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