The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 89

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 89**

**Aysel’s POV**

Laughter erupted from my lips, a spontaneous reaction to the audacity of the girl standing before me. Her chin was lifted high, and an air of arrogance surrounded her like a thick perfume, sharp and suffocating. “Leave Magnus,” she commanded, her tone dripping with entitlement.

Of all the responses I had anticipated following the chaotic aftermath of the Moonbirth banquet, this was the last one I would have ever imagined. I had braced myself for a visit from one of the elders from the Sanchez clan of the Shadowbane Pack—perhaps they would come to negotiate my position or, conversely, to apply pressure for my disappearance.

But never, in any realm ruled by moonlight or wolves, did I foresee that the first person to unravel would be a girl who claimed to be Magnus’s childhood betrothed.

Earlier that morning, I had taken Daron out for a run, feeling the wind whip through my hair as we raced through the trees. Upon my return, I was informed by the wardens that someone had come looking for me. Whoever managed to find this secluded place so quickly clearly had connections.

“Bring her in,” I instructed, a mix of curiosity and caution bubbling within me.

The moment she stepped into the room, it was as if a storm had arrived—she unleashed a torrent of entitlement that threatened to drown us both.

Agnes crossed her arms defiantly, her posture radiating superiority. “You actually believe Magnus would choose you as his mate? Please. I’ve been abroad for just a little while, and somehow you’ve managed to sneak in through the cracks.”

Her gaze flicked to Daron, who was sitting loyally by my side. I could see the green-eyed monster of jealousy igniting in her expression. “Not just anyone gets to touch Daron! It’s utterly rude of you to take someone else’s beast-hound out for a walk—”

She stomped forward, her hand reaching out as if she could simply snatch him away from me.

But she never got the chance.

Daron’s lips curled back in a menacing snarl. A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest, and before I could even utter a warning, he lunged at her.

His teeth grazed her leg, and she stumbled back, collapsing onto the floor, clutching the small wound on her calf. Her face twisted in shock and betrayal, a mixture of disbelief and pain.

Now, there she sat on the ground, trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks. When she looked up at me—calmly checking Daron’s jaws for any debris—her expression morphed into one of utter humiliation, as if I had just publicly insulted her in the grandest manner.

“Do you even know who I am?” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “You trained Daron; you’ll see—”

I lifted my phone, shaking it lazily in the air. “No idea who you are. But I have a mouth, and I can ask around.”

“Magnus will avenge me!” she spat, her voice filled with venom.

In that moment, she froze, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the call screen on my phone.

“Y-You—who did you call?”

I didn’t keep her waiting long for an answer. With one hand resting on my hip, my voice steady and sharp, I spoke clearly into the phone: “Magnus Sanchez. Your so-called childhood fiancée is in my villa. If you don’t sort this out in five minutes, I’ll handle it myself.”

Agnes fell silent, shock washing over her, the tears momentarily halted in their tracks.

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