The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 236

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 236**

In a world filled with shadows, Celestine remained blissfully unaware of the subtle change in Damon’s demeanor.

She beamed with joy as she carefully opened the delicate box resting in her hands, releasing a faint, nostalgic aroma of porcelain dust mingled with memories long forgotten.

“You arrived at just the right moment! Look what I stumbled upon,” she exclaimed, her excitement palpable.

With a flourish, she lifted the lid higher, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“I was rummaging through some old belongings a few days ago and discovered this lovely pair of cups, still in perfect condition. How about we split them? One for you and one for me?”

Cups.

Damon felt a tightening in his chest as his pupils constricted.

The instant his gaze fell upon the small porcelain cups, crafted to resemble a playful kitten and an innocent puppy, a vivid memory surged forth, pulling him back through the corridors of time.

Years ago, he had ventured beyond the eastern territories, crossing human ports and navigating wolf-ruled borders, all to bring back a special gift for Aysel from a faraway Italian forge. A delicate cup, unique and exquisite.

Aysel had adored it.

But then, in a moment of clumsiness, Celestine had shattered it.

Aysel had confronted her, her heart aching, while the Moonvale Pack had scolded Aysel instead, blaming her for making a fuss over something they deemed trivial, for being petty, for lacking the grace expected of the Luna.

Heartbroken and furious, Aysel had sought solace in Damon.

And he, in his misguided attempt to protect Celestine’s fragile feelings, had responded coldly:

“It’s just a cup. I’ll buy you another.”

Just a cup.

Just a pair of cufflinks.

Two simple phrases.

How cruelly identical they now echoed in his mind.

He had forgotten.

That cup had never been “just a cup.”

It had held memories. It had embodied meaning. It had been a testament to the lengths he had gone for her, crossing seas and borders.

In his mind, Aysel’s eyes resurfaced—those once-bright eyes that had dimmed in an instant, as if all the stars within them had flickered out.

She had believed he would cherish what she cherished.

But he never did.

Later on…

While passing through a quaint porcelain town on another mission, Damon had resolved to make amends. He had envisioned crafting a new cup with his own hands, a tangible token of his affection.

At that moment, Celestine had been nearby, performing her duties.

She had insisted on joining him in this endeavor.

Together, they had poured their efforts into creating the cups.

When they returned, Aysel had seen Damon’s gift and Celestine’s carefully crafted apology cup, intentionally shaped to resemble the original Italian one.

Aysel had smiled, a flicker of warmth in her expression.

But then, without a moment’s hesitation, she had smashed Celestine’s offering to pieces.

She had pushed aside Damon’s cup as well—the one Celestine had “contributed ideas” to—and ordered them both to leave, refusing to even glance at the shattered remnants.

They had quarreled once more.

By that time, their bond had already begun to chill. Aysel barely spoke to him anymore, her silence a heavy weight between them.

Terrified of losing her completely, Damon had rushed to devise a mating proposal.

He had never taken those cups with him.

So this was where they had remained, untouched and forgotten.

What once brimmed with a false sense of warmth now pierced through his chest like a dagger.

His lips twisted into a cold, broken smile.

“Do you even remember who these were originally meant for?” he asked, his voice laced with bitterness.

Celestine’s smile faltered, freezing in place.

After a moment’s hesitation, she replied softly,

“I thought you wouldn’t want them anymore. It seemed such a waste to discard them.”

With that, she closed the box, the air heavy with unspoken tension.

“Forget it. If you don’t want them, I’ll just get rid of them.”

Then, lifting her gaze, she seemed to test the atmosphere between their wolves.

“I heard you had a run-in with Quentin?”

Her brows furrowed in displeasure.

“He’s just a bastard son. What right does he have to show up at a gathering like this?”

Damon’s eyes locked onto hers, a storm brewing within.

“Because my father plans to hand over the Blackwood Pack to him.”

Celestine’s pupils widened in shock.

“That’s impossible.”

She had missed so much during her imprisonment. After her release, her former connections had severed ties entirely, leaving her in a fog of ignorance.

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