The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 84

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 84**

**Magnus’s POV**

To ease her apprehension, I added with a reassuring tone, “All the gifts have been presented in your name, Aysel Vale—signed, sealed, and filed as voluntary offerings. The laws of both humans and wolves stand firmly in your favor.”

Aysel’s brows knitted together, a clear sign that her instincts were at war with her human sensibilities. For a fleeting moment, I could see the internal struggle reflected in her eyes. Then, as I anticipated, she attempted to deflect the tension with humor.

“Ah, well, you know me,” she replied, her lips twitching into a playful smile. “If gold lands in front of me, I can’t resist picking it up.”

I chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in my chest and filling the space between us with warmth. “You picked me up too. Why hesitate over a few scraps of silver?”

Her eyes widened slightly as she blinked at my words. “That’s… actually fair.”

A grin spread across my face, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how easily she disarmed me with her candidness. It was a delightful challenge, one that I found myself drawn to time and again.

Yet, despite the lightness of our exchange, I could see that stubborn look returning to her face, a mix of wariness and guilt. It was as if every gift I offered came with an invisible price tag, a debt she felt would someday be called in. I had witnessed this before in wolves raised in weaker packs, conditioned to flinch at acts of generosity, believing they always came with chains attached.

But my gifts were not traps; they were declarations of my intentions.

Suddenly, a shadow flitted across the courtyard, breaking through the moment. Before I could issue a warning, a blur of fur erupted from the gates. My instincts kicked in, and I moved without thought—my wolf surged forward, positioning my body protectively between Aysel and the oncoming creature.

In the next instant, Aysel collided with my chest, her breath warm against my neck as she clutched my jacket tightly. My claws instinctively threatened to break through my skin before I forced them back, wrestling with the primal urge to protect her.

And then, the unmistakable bark echoed through the air.

Daron.

My damned warhound.

Aysel peered over my arm, her eyes widening in surprise. “This one’s mine too?”

The delight on her face was akin to someone who had just been gifted the moon itself. Her joy struck me like a physical force, leaving me momentarily breathless.

I exhaled through a low growl, a mix of amusement and disbelief bubbling within me.

As always, my people had gone above and beyond. The manor was stocked with everything she could desire, the wards meticulously sealed, and even her favorite teas neatly lined up in the kitchen. The Redmoon contractors had already delivered her clothes, even though I had ordered additional outfits on top of that.

She would not be returning to that cramped apartment tonight. No way. Not when every whisper among the packs would carry her name by dawn.

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