The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 37

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**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 37**

**Aysel’s POV**

That fateful night, I found myself hidden away behind the garden wall, tears streaming down my face like a relentless river. It was there that Yuna Ward stumbled upon me, her presence both unexpected and comforting. She knelt beside me, her fragrance enveloping me—a curious mix of sweetness and something almost otherworldly. “If your parents find the pup,” she whispered urgently, her voice barely rising above the rustle of the leaves, “they’ll kill it. You must hide him. Take him to the glade. I’ll help you.”

Her words resonated deep within me, igniting a flicker of hope amidst my despair. I believed her without question. For hours that felt like an eternity, I roamed the forest, my heart pounding as I followed the faint trail of his scent, clinging to the hope that I would find him. The sun sank lower in the sky, bleeding its vibrant colors into the horizon, yet I found nothing—only a patch of earth stained red, a cruel reminder of where his trail had vanished.

At long last, after what felt like an endless search, I stumbled upon Ember, weak and starving, hidden among the underbrush. Relief washed over me, but it was quickly overshadowed by an overwhelming dread. I couldn’t bring the pup home. The scent of my family’s anger—a sharp, suffocating presence—hung heavily in the air, making my heart race with fear. My instincts screamed to protect him, my wolf howled in frustration at the thought of returning without him, but I had no choice.

With a heavy heart, I turned away from the familiar path leading home, slipping quietly toward the only person who had ever shown me kindness—my aunt. She had instructed me to conceal the pup in the park, to ensure he remained hidden from prying eyes. “I’ll bring salves and healing herbs myself,” she had promised, her voice a soothing balm to my troubled soul.

Time stretched on as I waited, each minute feeling like an hour. The shadows of the forest deepened, and the wind whispered ominously, carrying the scent of impending rain long before the sky opened up. My paws grew soaked, fur matted with grass and scratches from bramble, while Ember trembled against me, his small body quaking with weakness. A surge of desperation and guilt coursed through me, tightening around my chest like a vise.

Then, without warning, the rain fell in torrents, drenching me to the core, washing away the mud and blood that clung to my skin. The cries of the pup grew faint, nearly drowned out by the roar of the storm. Panic clawed at my insides; I couldn’t lose him—not like this. I had to take him home, to my mother, to plead with her to save him.

As I approached the edge of the park, where two paths intersected, I thought I saw her—or perhaps it was merely a trick of the rain. My aunt’s figure stood there, shrouded in shadows, empty-handed and ghost-like. I dashed toward her, tears mingling with the downpour, my wolf surging with a flicker of hope.