The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 57

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 57**

**Aysel’s POV**

Cuddled against Magnus’s sturdy frame, I reveled in the comforting heat emanating from him, his fingers drawing intricate designs along my back. A playful impulse surged within me, prompting me to entwine my fingers with his and tug gently, while I crafted the most exaggerated pout I could muster—an expression that would have made even the fiercest of wolves cringe.

“But you promised there wouldn’t be any outsiders today,” I murmured, my voice dripping with a syrupy sweetness that masked my growing irritation. The mock innocence in my tone felt almost distasteful, but I pressed on, “So naturally, I assumed she must be one of the family’s she-wolves.”

With a teasing flick of my wrist, I playfully smacked his chest—perhaps a tad harder than necessary—enjoying the moment far too much. “This is all your fault! You never introduced everyone properly!”

What had begun as a lighthearted jest morphed into genuine annoyance. Magnus’s laughter resonated through the hall, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated within me like the distant roll of thunder. His golden eyes twinkled with amusement, yet beneath that mirth lurked a shadow, something primal and unsettling.

“If I didn’t introduce them,” he replied, his voice languid and dismissive, “it’s because they’re of no consequence. Who knows which bastard cub or half-blood stray they’ve dragged home this season? Their very scent sullies the air.”

His words sliced through the atmosphere, sharp and unforgiving, igniting a fire of tension that crackled in the air.

I noticed several young women stiffen, their bodies taut with indignation, eyes flashing in response to his harsh dismissal. A faint, acrid scent of shame and anger wafted through the room, a tangible tension that set my nerves on edge.

Alice, Rudi Sanchez’s companion, a delicate-looking wolf with soft features, flushed a deep crimson, her lip quivering with a mixture of hurt and confusion. She had graced the Shadowbane Keep with her presence numerous times, always under the watchful eye of her “aunt,” Rudi. For Magnus to feign ignorance of her presence was a blatant affront.

Rudi’s chest heaved, barely contained rage simmering just beneath the surface, the reminder of Alice’s origins striking a nerve deep within her.

“How dare you!” she hissed, her claws flexing against the table, an instinctive display of defiance. “Alice is my brother’s daughter—she’s family! Unlike certain mongrels who slink into noble dens, wagging their tails for scraps.”

The venom in her voice was palpable, yet I maintained my smile, a mask of feigned innocence that belied the turmoil within me.

Beside her, Alice’s voice trembled as she turned her gaze toward Magnus, her eyes wide and shimmering with faux innocence.

“Magnus… brother Magnus,” she breathed, as if merely uttering his name could draw him closer to her.

But before she could weave her spell further, the sharp sound of shattering porcelain shattered the tension in the air like a gunshot.

A teacup exploded on the floor, the noise reverberating through the hall, enveloping us in a suffocating silence.

Not a single wolf dared to move. To break something in the presence of Bastien Sanchez, the Elder Alpha himself, was sheer madness.

And yet here I stood, the perpetrator, my eyes wide and my lower lip trembling in a perfect imitation of a wounded she-wolf. I turned to Magnus, burying my face against his chest, allowing a small, pathetic whimper to escape my lips, dripping with false sweetness.

“I don’t care,” I murmured, my voice muffled yet laced with a sweetly venomous undertone. “She’s not allowed to call you that. I’m jealous. I’m petty.”

Magnus let out a sharp exhale, a sound that was half a laugh and half a growl, his fingers weaving through my hair with a possessive ease. But when he lifted his gaze, the warmth had vanished, replaced by a steely resolve.

“Did you hear that?” His voice dropped to a low, commanding tone that reverberated through the hall like the approach of a storm. “The Luna of Shadowbane doesn’t want you calling me brother. Mind your tongue, girl.”

The pressure that followed was palpable, his Alpha command flooding the room like molten iron, heavy and suffocating. Alice wilted under its weight, tears spilling from her eyes as her body trembled uncontrollably.

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