The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 69

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 69**

In the hushed stillness of the grand hall, a single word reverberated through the air, slicing through the atmosphere like a thunderclap echoing beneath the silvery glow of the moon.

“Brother-in-law.”

Those who bore witness to the truth froze in their tracks, their expressions morphing into masks of shock and disbelief. The wolves who had once celebrated Damon Blackwood’s courtship, those who had raised their goblets in honor of his promise to Aysel, now turned their wide-eyed gazes toward the Moonvale heiress, a mixture of confusion and intrigue swirling among them.

This was no mere jest; it was a dagger laced with venom, aimed squarely at the heart of the matter.

The same wolves who had watched Damon kneel beneath the sacred moonstone, pledging his life and love to Aysel, could not possibly misinterpret the weight of that word. They were acutely aware that the two had been intertwined for years, their souls having danced together under countless blood moons before being torn apart in a silence that echoed louder than any scream.

Now, that single word—brother-in-law—struck him with the force of divine retribution, a blow that left him reeling.

Even Mary, who had been so audacious just moments prior, felt her bravado wane. She had envisioned a scene, something dramatic and scandalous, but this twist was too sharp, too merciless. Yet, as her gaze fell upon Damon’s face—pale, stricken, his eyes wide with despair—a wicked thrill coursed through her. At last, justice—or at the very least, humiliation—had found its mark.

With a coy smile, Mary inclined her head toward Aysel. “Of course, forgive me, Lady Aysel. It seems my mistake was believing the tales. So it is true then, the younger Vale daughter and her… brother-in-law.”

Her voice dripped with mockery, each word a calculated jab. With a laugh that rang hollow, she slipped back into the crowd beside her mother, leaving behind a trail of whispered speculation.

But Damon was barely able to stand. The word echoed relentlessly in his mind, the scent of Aysel’s amusement wrapping around him like a noose. It was suffocating.

Acting on instinct, he moved, straining against the grip of his parents, who each caught an arm in a desperate attempt to restrain him.

“Enough!” Alpha Blackwood hissed, his eyes glinting like cold iron in the dim light. “You’ve shamed this family enough for one night.”

His mother’s tone softened, yet her grip was unyielding. “The bond is broken, Damon. The Luna has been chosen. Do not ruin what little peace remains.”

Fury and despair flared within him like wildfire, igniting every nerve. “You know who I was meant to marry! You know what we were!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

But the elders only tightened their hold, their expressions unreadable. Around them, the murmurs of the wolves grew sharper, like the click of fangs ready to strike—Eastern Alpha undone, the Moonvale heiress reborn in fury.

When he finally broke free, staggering forward, the crowd parted as if the very scent of his desperation burned their nostrils.

He locked eyes with Aysel, desperation flooding his voice. “Aysel, please—”

She did not flinch.

“You stepped out earlier, didn’t you?” Her voice was calm, a quiet blade cloaked in silk. “Do you remember our wager, Damon? What was it again, dear brother-in-law?”

Her words rippled through the hall like the call of a predator preparing for the hunt, sending a shiver down his spine.

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