The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 267

Chapter 267

Third Person’s POV

Aysel’s amber eyes narrowed as she observed Damon. “It’s not that… I just-” he began, but the truth of his intent, buried deep within his wolf’s instinct, clawed at his throat. Was he really supposed to admit he only sought to climb higher in the pack hierarchy so that, when the moment came, he could claim her back from whoever dared interfere?

Aysel tilted her head, her wolf senses flaring as she studied him. “I’ll ask you straight. If we were still together today, but Quentin appeared, and I severed all ties with Moonvale, and your father demanded you choose between the family legacy and me… what would you choose? Or would you cling to them, perform a political mating alliance, and still keep me dangling?”

Damon fell silent.

The young Damon, barely in his teens, would have answered without hesitation-Aysel, always Aysel. But the Alpha he had become, tempered by years of carrying the Blackwood name and surviving within its deadly politics, could he still answer truthfully without compromising his pride, his pack’s respect, his wolf’s honor?

Aysel shook her head slowly. The difference was stark. With Magnus-there would be no hesitation. He would fight, clawing through every obstacle, bending fate to ensure Aysel stood tall and unthreatened. His strength would pave a path, a legacy she could claim with ease, while Damon… Damon was always bound by his father, forever tethered to the pack’s chains. He desired both, yes, but in doing so, he would always force her to yield first, to suffer first.

Realization dawned in her mind: she and Damon were not meant to be. Their paths, no matter how intertwined, were bound to diverge, driven apart by the nature of their wolves.

Damon’s shoulders slumped, heavy with the weight of unspoken regrets, his muzzle lowering as if the very air had grown too thick to breathe.

A rustle behind them broke the tension. Someone brushed past Aysel, too close, and she stumbled forward, wolf instincts flaring. Damon reacted immediately, a hand reaching to steady her, but Aysel pivoted swiftly, avoiding him with fluid, predatory grace.

His gaze hardened, a mixture of restraint and longing flickering in his eyes. “Even if we’re not mates, after so many years… can we not at least be allies?”

Aysel’s golden eyes widened in disbelief. The notion was laughable. To her, the idea of maintaining any friendly bond with a former mate was nauseating. Wolves did not casually share territories once bonds were broken.

Damon opened his jaws, wanting to argue, but Magnus’ warning echoed in his mind. He stepped back, controlling the feral urges that would have otherwise driven him forward. This fleeting encounter-this mere chance at words-was all he would allow himself.

From the edge of the deck, Celestine’s sharp gaze observed them. “They seem… comfortable together. First loves are always unforgettable. Tell me, Alpha Magnus, do you really think Aysel can forget Damon, her

once-mate?”

Magnus, towering and lethal, turned his wolfed senses toward the young woman beside him. The mere

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sight of her poised jealousy, the petty stirrings of a Luna’s envy, only sharpened his predatory instincts. Today, his path had crossed with more fools and pests than usual.

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