The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 202

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 202**

In the dim light of the day, Magnus had managed to steal only three hours of precious sleep. It was a restless slumber, fraught with dreams that danced just out of reach, leaving him feeling more weary than when he had closed his eyes.

Aysel, on the other hand, had taken a mere half day off from her demanding schedule. By the time the sun began its descent, she had to return to the theatre, where a mix of pack members and human dancers awaited her direction. Magnus, eager to immerse himself in the world that his mate inhabited, decided to accompany her. He figured he would head directly to the airport once the day’s rehearsals concluded.

Sofia, the ever-diligent director, had caught wind of the “golden patron’s” visit and swiftly organized a rough first-stage rehearsal. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation, everyone eager to impress.

From the shadows of the stage wings, Magnus observed Aysel with a mix of admiration and concern. She moved with an intensity that was captivating—adjusting footwork, correcting the dancers’ postures, and offering guidance with a fierce yet nurturing spirit. Every now and then, she would pause, brow furrowed in thought, only to spring back to life, her voice rising in passionate debate with Andrea and the others.

A small, relieved huff escaped Magnus’s lips. It was a comfort to see that the emotional scars left by Yuna Ward’s revelations hadn’t completely consumed her. Her wolf—her fierce little moon-rose—still shone brightly, a beacon of resilience amidst the chaos.

Just as he reached for the water bottle he had intended to offer her, a sharp gaze pierced through his senses. It was Ryan, the young man who had been a mere shell of himself ever since he learned that Aysel was already claimed by another. Ryan had not anticipated coming face-to-face with the legendary figure who held her heart.

In a moment of bitter comparison, Ryan instinctively measured himself against Magnus:

Height? No contest.

Looks? The foreigner was strikingly handsome, a figure carved from shadows and winter steel, leaving Ryan feeling painfully inadequate.

Build? Magnus was no delicate outsider; he exuded a coiled power, reminiscent of a wolf accustomed to ruling the fiercest battlegrounds.

Assets? Ryan’s entire family fortune paled in comparison to even a single territory under the Shadowbane Pack’s dominion.

With every realization, Ryan’s heart, already fractured, felt as though it splintered anew.

Julia had not exaggerated after all.

Still unwilling to concede defeat, he searched for even the tiniest emotional crack between Aysel and Magnus—but, to his frustration, there was none.

Even as her rival, Ryan had to begrudgingly admit that the two were infuriatingly well-suited for one another.

His blue eyes began to mist over.

From the beginning to the end, Magnus’s gaze never wavered from Aysel.

And she, amidst the chaos of responsibility, continually sought him out, offering soft, instinctive smiles that were meant solely for her mate.

The admiring glances from both wolves and humans alike meant nothing to them, lost in their own world.

At that moment, Ryan felt utterly defeated.

A broken whine nearly escaped his throat, but he swallowed it down.

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