The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 91

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 91**

**Aysel’s POV**

As I trailed behind Magnus into the opulent grand hall, the atmosphere crackled with the intoxicating scent of ambition and power. This was our first official appearance as a couple since the lavish birthday banquet, and I could feel the weight of expectations pressing down on us. The air was thick with tension, reminiscent of the low growl that precedes a hunt, an unspoken challenge that hung palpably between us. Every pair of eyes in the room snapped to us, assessing and measuring, their gazes like sharp knives slicing through the air. I could sense the undercurrents of curiosity and envy swirling around us, akin to how a wolf sizes up a rival in the wild, their instincts honed for competition.

To my astonishment, I caught sight of Celestine and Damon across the hall, their presence as predictable as the sunrise. They were the betrothed representatives of the Moonvale and Blackwood Packs, tasked with maintaining appearances and mending any bruised egos. I noticed Damon instinctively retract the arm that Celestine had been holding, as if he were trying to distance himself from her. Celestine’s eyes fell, uncertain and unreadable, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. But I didn’t allow myself to dwell on them; my focus was razor-sharp tonight, and they were not my concern.

Walking alongside Magnus sent a thrill coursing through me. His very presence commanded the room, an aura so sharp and territorial that it effectively cleared a path for us. We glided through the throng of guests with effortless grace, finally reaching a private viewing box. I arranged the fruit and snacks before me, treating it like a trophy of our successful entrance, my curiosity igniting like a flame.

“So… who exactly is it?” I inquired, my amber eyes sweeping over the crowd below, searching for the target of our attention.

The hall was a hive of observation and subtle challenges. Magnus’s uncle’s twin sons flitted around the room, their movements polite yet careful, as if they were navigating a minefield. Earlier, they had been bold, but now, with Magnus at my side, their bravado had all but evaporated. I could see them whispering to each other, their bidding paddles barely lifted. Nearby, Rudi Sanchez, the youngest daughter, sat with her husband’s family, while her son, Noah, shrank back at the mere sight of me—as if he’d caught a glimpse of a predator prowling through his territory. Memories of the family banquet flickered in my mind; he had experienced my bite before, and I could tell that lesson had left a lasting impression.

Members of the Sanchez Pack navigated the crowd, each one asserting their dominance in their own unique way. Some approached with a veneer of respect, while others attempted to manipulate the dynamics at play. Magnus observed it all with a calm demeanor befitting an Alpha, sending subtle signals that only the keenest of observers could decipher. I couldn’t help but smile, a slight amusement bubbling within me at the predictable rituals of pack politics.

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