The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 78

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 78**

In the dimly lit great hall, Magnus’s claw tapped rhythmically against the smooth surface of the polished oak table, a sound that echoed like a clock ticking down to an inevitable confrontation. His dark eyes, sharp and unyielding, glinted with a predatory intensity that sent a shiver through every wolf gathered in the room. The slight upward curve of his lips, a mere whisper of a smile, was enough to command attention, causing the wolves present to straighten, instinctively aware of the gravity of the moment.

“Enough,” he drawled, his voice low and laced with an underlying menace that hung in the air like a storm cloud. “Since everyone’s here, let’s begin.”

With a subtle nod from Magnus, Jackson, his ever-loyal second-in-command, stepped forward with an air of authority. He called for the servants, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd as he ordered them to bring forth five intricately carved chairs to the center of the hall. These chairs were intended for the Moonvale Alphas and their kin, a cruel display that was far from accidental.

This gathering, initially meant for camaraderie and connection, had morphed into something far more sinister. Outside, the wolves roamed the candlelit lawn, exchanging pleasantries and the scents of their packs beneath the watchful gaze of the silver moon. But in here, amidst a circle of standing guests, the five seated figures of the Moonvale family appeared painfully out of place, like prey laid bare for judgment.

The atmosphere thickened with a palpable sense of humiliation, wrapping around the assembly like a suffocating fog.

Luna Evelyn’s gaze flickered toward Aysel more than once, her features a tumult of guilt and barely contained rage. Yet Aysel remained composed beside Magnus, her demeanor unflinching, like a wolf who had long since shed the mantle of victimhood. Just as Magnus had once allowed her to unleash chaos within the Shadowbane Court, she now granted him the freedom to dominate here, on Moonvale territory.

Tension hung heavily in the air, ready to snap, and it did the moment Alpha Remus rose from his chair. His jaw was clenched tight, and his tail twitched once in a futile attempt at restraint.

“I’ll have someone bring out the birthday cake,” he stated stiffly, the words tumbling from his lips like a reluctant admission.

Magnus’s lips twisted into a smile that held no warmth, only a cold satisfaction. “Alpha Remus,” he interjected, his deep voice slicing through the murmurs like a blade, “perhaps you should save the cake meant for your foster daughter’s engagement. It would be a shame to tarnish it with the stench of hypocrisy.”

A collective sharp intake of breath rippled through the gathered wolves, a wave of shock washing over them.

Remus froze, the color draining from his face, leaving him a ghost of his former self.

Jackson, ever the opportunist, stepped forward, a pleasant smile plastered across his face that dripped with mockery. “No need to trouble yourself, Alpha. The Shadowbane Pack has already prepared everything.”

With a sharp clap, attendants emerged, wheeling gleaming dessert carts across the marble floor. The sweet scent of honey and sugar mingled with the cold metallic tang of dominance that permeated the air, creating a heady concoction.

“Wait—” one wolf murmured, eyes widening in disbelief. “Aren’t there… too many?”

“One, two… seventeen,” another wolf counted aloud, his voice rising in disbelief.

The crowd began to buzz with whispers. Seventeen cakes encircled the five Moonvale wolves like a ritualistic ring, each one a stark reminder of something lost.

Seventeen.

The number struck them like a physical blow, reverberating through the hall. It was a poignant reminder of the year Yuna Ward had fallen, the year Aysel had been just six years old. Three nights ago, during their somber visit to the graves, she had turned twenty-three.

Seventeen birthdays stolen away.

The flickering flames of the seventeen cakes illuminated faces that had once been proud, now rendered pale and hollow by the weight of their past.

For what felt like an eternity, Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn remained silent, their thoughts drifting back to when Aysel had been their cherished pup—the only daughter of Moonvale. Each year, they had vowed that no matter how far their travels took them, they would always return home to celebrate her special day under the same moonlight.

Yet, they had failed her.

Seventeen moons had passed in silence. Seventeen years of their absence had left a void that could never be filled.

They had called it atonement, but even they understood that their guilt had never nourished the child they had abandoned.

Beside them, Celestine clenched her fists, her aura flickering with agitation.

Why bring up this number again?

Why unearth a wound that had long been buried?

Among the crowd, wolves who understood the history of the Moonvale family began to murmur amongst themselves.

“Seventeen…”

“Goddess above, the Shadowbane Alpha doesn’t just strike the body—he strikes the soul.”

Some shivered, a dawning realization washing over them. Magnus was not merely reminding the Moonvale family of their neglect; he was forcing them to witness as he gifted Aysel every lost birthday back, one by one.

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