The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 58

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 58**

**Aysel’s POV**

The moment the exquisite porcelain shattered into a myriad of glistening shards, the ambiance within Shadowbane Hall transformed dramatically. An electric tension surged through the air, palpable and suffocating, as every gaze snapped towards the epicenter of the disruption, laden with a mix of apprehension and intrigue.

In that instant, an undeniable truth settled heavily in the room: Magnus Sanchez, the most formidable Alpha this continent had known, had made an irrevocable decision. He would stand resolutely by my side—Aysel, the once-noble daughter of the Moonvale Pack—prepared to defend me even if it meant turning the entire Hall into a battlefield. The stakes had never been higher, the air thick with unspoken consequences.

Across the room, the Elder Alpha, Bastien, trembled with barely contained rage, his claws digging into the polished wood of his cane, leaving behind faint grooves that spoke volumes of his fury. Magnus’s voice, steady and unwavering like a winter tempest, reverberated through the hall, demanding attention. “My Luna’s temper is poor. Everyone will bear with her.”

That one resolute proclamation cast an abrupt silence over the wolves, who had moments ago been eager for blood. The atmosphere thickened, as if the very air had turned to ice, hanging heavy with the weight of impending conflict.

From the shadows, Marcia, who had arrived with Rudi, stepped forward, her body language betraying a mix of urgency and trepidation. “Forgive me, Alphas. I just remembered something urgent back at the Frostfang borders. I’ll take my leave and visit again another time.”

Her departure was executed with a grace that belied the fear emanating from her, sharp and unmistakable—a wolf opting for self-preservation over the intoxicating allure of power. This was no ordinary gathering; it was an open confrontation between Magnus and the very blood that coursed through his veins, and Marcia was wise enough to know when to retreat.

Those who had initially come to curry favor now felt the oppressive weight of iron and storm looming in the air. Remaining in the Hall could transform them into targets in this unfolding drama. The air was thick with unspoken threats, and one by one, they began to slip away, the echoes of their footsteps resonating with uncertainty.

Marcia’s family had longstanding trade pacts with the Shadowbane, but she was not foolish enough to sink into the depths of a lost alliance. She desired power, not enemies, and her instincts had guided her well.

As the first wolf vanished into the shadows, others quickly followed suit. A few lingered, reluctant to abandon their ambitions, yet the silence that enveloped the Hall felt laden with foreboding. They cast furtive glances at Magnus, who remained unyielding, his gaze fixed ahead, resolute in his stance. One by one, they departed, leaving behind an echo of uncertainty, the grand hall now standing nearly empty, like a ship abandoned at sea.

A snicker sliced through the stillness, sharp and mocking. “Didn’t expect my third brother Magnus to turn sentimental,” Zark Sanchez’s derisive voice pierced through the tension like a knife. He, the elder brother of Sandy, stood with a disdainful smirk, his tone dripping with contempt.

Magnus remained silent, his focus unwavering. I felt the warmth of his hand beneath mine, a pulse of heat that ignited a spark of courage within me. It was my moment to seize the initiative.

“Zark, you’ve always possessed a keen eye,” I replied lightly, turning to him with a sweet smile that masked my underlying defiance. “My Magnus is both loyal and intoxicating. Perhaps if you had learned that lesson earlier, you’d be bouncing a pup with your Lady Olivia by now. After all, virtue is the finest dowry a male can offer.”

The silence that followed was rich and satisfying, a moment to savor, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

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