The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 258

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 258**

**Finished**

Celestine navigated the shadowy corridors of her mind, reminiscent of a solitary wolf stalking its prey. There was a thrilling gamble at play within her heart, a bold instinct whispering that once she donned the chains of marriage, even Dariusz’s conniving plots would crumble before her. She possessed her own set of claws, alternative methods to pin him beneath her will.

Yet, unbeknownst to her, Aysel still held secrets—fragments of evidence that could drag her back into the suffocating confines of her past. The exhilaration of unleashing one devastating revelation at a time was precisely what rendered life intoxicatingly perilous.

Her thoughts churned restlessly, that all-too-familiar sensation of being hunted gnawing at her nerves like a persistent itch. Did Aysel, in that moment of liberation, ever foresee this day? A creeping dread of having no sanctuary, no hidden corner within the pack to retreat to, slithered through her chest, tightening its grip.

The silence stretched unbearably. Quentin’s claws tapped lightly against the polished surface of the office table, each sound sharp and deliberate, drawing her attention.

Celestine’s pale, determined gaze locked onto him, her resolve hardening. “Agreed. But… I can’t even find him. How am I supposed to marry him?”

The matriarch of Blackwood maintained an impenetrable fortress around her Alpha son, and the exposure of Yuna Ward’s schemes had struck Damon like a thunderbolt. Celestine found herself ensnared in a web of obstacles, surrounded by walls she could not scale.

Quentin’s lips twisted into a wolfish smirk, amusement glinting in his eyes like the sharp edge of a blade. “Worry not. I can illuminate a path for you. In a few days, there will be a yacht gathering. Damon’s mother has secured an invitation to broaden his social reach. You will encounter him there.”

Celestine opened her mouth, ready to protest, but Quentin swiftly interjected. “The invitation itself is your responsibility, Miss Ward. Should you fail to secure entry, I may have to reconsider your capabilities as a manipulator of pack affairs.”

Her expression darkened, shadows flickering across her features.

Meanwhile, in the sterile confines of the hospital, Luna Evelyn’s amber eyes fluttered open, blinking against the harsh light. She turned her gaze toward Fenrir, who was stationed by the window, wrapping up a call. “Has Aysel come by?” she inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her body still felt fragile, her spirit drained from the recent upheavals. Each time she awoke, the same question echoed in her mind—a litany of hope, now dashed against the rocks of reality.

Fenrir shook his head, his expression grave. Luna Evelyn let out a resigned sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “And what of Celestine? How is she faring?”

Fenrir poured her a glass of water, the cool liquid shimmering in the light. “There’s nothing to worry about. She dressed and departed the hospital yesterday, presenting herself with an air of confidence, as if nothing had transpired.” His tone dripped with subtle mockery, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

Luna Evelyn pressed her lips together, steeling herself. “I will be discharged today as well. Bring her and Lykos back to the den. It’s time for a family reckoning.”

That night marked a pivotal moment—the Moonvale Pack gathered for the first time in years. Five wolves stood beneath one roof, yet the warmth of familial ties had been replaced by the bitter chill of betrayal.

Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn could scarcely comprehend the venom that had emerged from the very wolf they had nurtured, the daughter who had once basked in the den’s warmth. Faced with Celestine’s aggressive demands, disbelief washed over Remus’s features. “We raised you, fed you, taught you to hunt, to dance beneath the moonlight! Your life has been richer than most, and now, as the pack faces peril, you dare to seize the den’s treasures?”

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