**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 252**
**Third Person’s POV**
When Aysel made her way back to the continent, she carried with her a small token of affection for Magnus—a thoughtful gift that spoke volumes of her kindness. But her generosity didn’t stop there; she had also picked out a delightful surprise for Jenny, her young friend, who was just beginning to find her place in the world. During the festive birthday banquet celebrating Bastien’s lunar-cycle, Aysel presented the charm to Jenny with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Jenny’s reaction was nothing short of euphoric. Her face lit up with joy, and she clasped the charm tightly, as if it were a treasure beyond measure. From that day forward, the charm became a part of her daily attire, its subtle scent weaving around her like a protective aura, announcing to anyone with a discerning nose just who had captured her heart.
Yet, the atmosphere was thick with tension. It was evident to anyone present that earlier that day, Jenny and Lykos had crossed paths in a heated confrontation over a small moon-plush totem—a cherished item that Lykos had carelessly ruined. The incident had simmered beneath the surface, but as the night unfolded, Jenny’s pent-up anger erupted like a volcano. In her fervor, she partially shifted, her claws pricking through her fingertips, a primal response to the injustice she felt. It was Aysel’s calming voice that pulled her back from the brink, reminding her to rein in her emotions.
Lykos, on the other hand, found himself isolated, his allies dwindling. Though Jenny was a side-branch wolf, she carried the esteemed Sanchez name, a legacy tied to the powerful Shadowbane bloodline. Observers were acutely aware of the waning strength of the Moonvale Pack, and it was clear to them which side they should support.
Despite his lack of allies, Lykos’s predicament was compounded by the fact that several onlookers chose to intervene on Jenny’s behalf, further amplifying his humiliation. Aysel, unwavering in her stance, paid no heed to Lykos’s wounds, her golden-silver eyes—marked by the Moonvale Luna-line—focused intently on the enforcers from the city patrol.
“It was their provocation first,” she stated, her voice steady, though the energy of her wolf simmered just beneath her skin, crackling with intensity. “They nearly caused our younger sister to overturn her car. They should bear the primary responsibility. We will not accept any settlement.”
The officer shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the imposing figure of Magnus Sanchez standing behind Aysel, arms crossed and expression inscrutable. With Aysel’s compelling argument and Magnus’s formidable presence, the patrol found little room to argue. The officer let out a resigned sigh and turned his gaze back to Lykos.
“You genuinely refuse to explain why you intercepted her vehicle?” he pressed, searching for answers.
Lykos pressed his lips into a thin line, the weight of his silence speaking volumes.
The small group of ordinary-born young wolves who had followed him cursed their misfortune. Everyone in their circles was well aware of Moonvale’s decline; the once-loyal friends Lykos had relied upon had long since abandoned him. These few remained only because Lykos had once been generous with his resources.
They had no inkling of Jenny’s true significance. It was Lykos who harbored an inexplicable grudge, fixating on her for reasons he could not fully articulate.
How could they comprehend that he had provoked a formidable Shadowbane wolf?
Now, he stood mute, refusing to defend himself, refusing even to utter a single word that might alleviate their predicament—and as a result, they were the ones who bore the brunt of his obstinacy.
It was unfathomable. It was wretched.
One of his companions tugged at Lykos’s sleeve, desperation lacing their voice. “You called her pretty sister just now—say something! Just explain! Maybe she’ll show mercy!”
But Lykos remained as silent as a statue, his resolve unyielding.
His companions, frustrated and angry, huddled together in a corner, their whispers laced with hostility as they exchanged glances filled with blame—clearly holding him responsible for pulling them into this mess.



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