The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 46

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 46**

**Aysel’s POV**

Damon stood before me, a maelstrom of emotions swirling around him, his presence charged with the scent of rain and an almost palpable weight of regret. It felt as if the tempest outside had seeped into his very essence, mirroring the turmoil that churned within my heart. The air was thick with unspoken words, each moment stretching into an eternity as I took in the sight of him.

A soft, bitter laugh slipped from my lips, a sound tinged with both sweetness and sorrow, like the taste of blood mingling with moonlight. “The Damon I once knew,” I whispered, my voice barely breaking through the charged atmosphere, “never stopped to consider whether I misunderstood anything. He simply stood by my side, unwavering, without a hint of doubt.”

My gaze fell upon the small cake he held, its sugary aroma clashing violently with the storm’s fury outside. “You came here because you were worried about me?” I asked, skepticism lacing my words, curiosity battling with the bitterness that had taken root in my heart.

He nodded quickly, his expression a delicate blend of hope and fear, as if my words were a fragile glass he was terrified might shatter. “Tonight… I thought you might be feeling down. And—well, it’s your birthday.”

I didn’t reach for the cake. Instead, my eyes drifted to the faint glimmer of his watch, a stark reminder of the relentless passage of time. “You know the Moonvale graves are always visited at the same hour. But the journey from the Blackwood den to the graveyard and back here shouldn’t take this long. Where did you go before you arrived?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words faltered, caught in the web of unspoken truths that hung heavily between us.

I maintained my composure, though beneath my skin, a restless beast stirred, yearning to break free. “For the past two years, you’ve spent this day with Celestine. There’s no reason she would choose to stay away now. We already had our confrontation at the graveyard, didn’t we? So you went back to Moonvale, didn’t you?”

His flinch at my words was unmistakable, the scent of guilt wafting off him like a dense fog that enveloped us both.

“Damon Blackwood,” I said, lowering my voice to a dangerous whisper, each word sharp as a claw, “your promises are nothing but empty air. Even when you murmur apologies, your feet are already retreating back to her.”

The tension between us crackled like electricity, my words slicing through the air with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “I will never coexist with Celestine Ward. If she stands beside you, then you must make a choice. But let me make this clear—whatever you decide, there will be no turning back.”

Our severance had already begun the moment he turned away from me, the distance between us a chasm that felt insurmountable, echoing with the memories of what had once been.

“Aysel,” he pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of desperation as he reached out, gently catching my wrist in his grip. “I’m sorry. Please—just let me stay and share the cake with you. Just this once.”

His hope clung to the air like a fragile thread, but I could feel it fraying with each passing second.

“No.” I pulled my wrist free, the sudden movement causing the cake to tumble from his grasp.

Sweet cream splattered across the stone floor, a vivid reminder of our last tenderness, shattered like sugar beneath our feet, leaving only the bitterness of our reality in its wake.

“I don’t need it anymore.”

Then, from within the den, a low, male voice called out lazily, “Aysel Vale, come blow out the candles.”

Damon froze, recognition flashing across his features—he knew that voice all too well.

It belonged to the one who had once answered my communicator, the very person he thought I had summoned merely to provoke him. But if my resolve had already solidified, if I had chosen another’s presence over the shadows he cast, then the man inside…

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