The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 81

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 81**

**Aysel’s POV**

“What? Did you not hear Aysel call for her cousin? Celestine Ward was welcomed into the Moonvale Pack seventeen years ago—she’s the daughter of Luna Evelyn’s sister. Aysel is the sole true-born daughter of the Moonvale Alpha lineage.”

A snort echoed through the hall, slicing through the tension. “No, hold on—the real issue is that the Moonvale Pack cut off Aysel’s funding when she turned eighteen, right? So, how can we be certain that the ‘real daughter’ wasn’t switched after all?”

Old wounds resurfaced, bringing with them the unmistakable scent of favoritism—sharp and metallic, a stench that suffocated the air and refused to be ignored. The members of the Moonvale council paled, their self-satisfied expressions fracturing under the weight of truth.

Even Damon, who had remained stoic and solemn ever since Magnus had reclaimed my birthday celebration as my rightful day, turned towards the council with disbelief etched across his face.

He understood, at least in part, how poorly my pack had treated me.

But he had never fathomed the depths of their cruelty—how easily they could draw a stark line between me and Celestine.

I was not one to complain; wolves do not beg.

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Or perhaps I had attempted to confide in him once—before guilt clouded his judgment and Celestine’s name softened his heart. Each time I broached the subject, he would exhale a heavy sigh, urging me to be compassionate, to consider her tragic history, to work towards mending our fractured relationship.

Because prior to my grandmother’s death, I had endured everything in silence, hadn’t I? To the outside world, everything appeared serene—perfectly tranquil on the surface.

But after that fateful day? Each time Celestine overstepped, each time her fangs sank into my flesh—figuratively and literally—I stopped sharing my pain with Damon. What was the point? The pack always rallied to defend her.

The atmosphere in the hall grew thick, heavy as fog, suffocating and oppressive.

Finally, Lykos—my younger brother, the ever-protected heir—snapped. His voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. “You’re lying! When has our pack ever stopped supporting you? You’re just being greedy—making things up to hurt your sister!”

Ah, the ignorance of the privileged. He had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, never having to fight for anything, never realizing that comfort itself served as a shield against the harsh realities of life.

I met his furious glare with calm resolve. “Brother,” I replied evenly, “playing games with she-wolves is one thing, but don’t let it cloud your judgment. Whether I received the Moonvale’s support or not—just check the records. The truth is straightforward.”

Then, I turned my attention to Alpha Remus, Luna Evelyn, and Fenrir—the so-called leaders of my bloodline, the ones I had once looked up to.

“Tell me, did I receive even a single silver from the Moonvale treasury after I came of age?”

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