The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 98

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 98**

**Aysel’s POV**

Perhaps it was the profound sense of trust and unwavering support that ignited a spark deep within me. After enduring years steeped in despair, there had been a time when I believed I would never again feel the joy of dance coursing through my veins. Yet, as I embarked on this new journey I had painstakingly forged for myself, I began to mend the frayed edges of my spirit, step by cautious step.

In the past, no one had ever truly cared for me. I realized that had I not summoned the strength to pull myself from the shadows, I might have remained trapped in that anguish forever, my wolf spirit crushed beneath the weight of sorrow.

Outside, the winds had settled into a soft whisper, the clouds drifting lazily across the expansive sky, and I felt a deep-seated relief wash over me, knowing that the worst was behind us. Life, I mused, never follows a straightforward path; there are always myriad ways to forge ahead, and I was learning to navigate them.

Magnus’s gaze softened as he looked down at the small head nestled against his arm. His little wolf, so fragile yet fiercely determined, reminded him of a wild rose that could withstand even the fiercest of storms.

“Back home, then?” he inquired, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

I paused for a moment, shaking my head slowly. “In a few days. I’m not ready yet,” I admitted, the words tumbling out with a mix of uncertainty and resolve.

There was no dance hall at my residence within the Moonvale Pack, and my rehearsal clothes remained at the villa Magnus had so generously gifted me. A quiet fire burned within me—I yearned to dance, but only when I could do so beautifully, with the grace I knew he deserved to witness.

The thought of enduring the grueling training that professional dancers faced was unbearable. For so many years, I had danced solely for the love of it, for the sheer joy it brought me. Yet, I could not deny that my choreography had garnered praise from numerous mentors; my mind still held the elegance and strength of a true dancer.

Magnus smiled at me, a warmth in his expression. “Very well. As you wish, then,” he replied, his tone lightening the air between us.

Our conversation meandered, the tense atmosphere that had enveloped us when we first entered the car gradually dissipating. The driver, glancing through the rearview mirror, caught a glimpse of Magnus, noting how relaxed and gentle he appeared now, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

Recently, it seemed he had taken to smiling more often, his mood noticeably brighter. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Of course, no one had ever dared to coax the Rafe of Shadowbane into such a state of ease before.

I could sense the quiet laughter bubbling within him, a reflection of his wandering thoughts. From the moment he had moved into my Moonvale apartment—and then into the villa he gifted me—Magnus had been more present in my life than he had been in his own grand estate.

Naturally, tonight, we were returning to my territory.

Daron had been sulking before we left, the previous master and the new master heading out together without him? He had given us a stubborn glare from the doorway, his tail tucked between his legs, a picture of displeasure.

However, today, I had taken a detour on our way home to stop by the market, picking up a few new toys for Daron.

Magnus fidgeted with a small ball in his hand, eyeing me with a playful glint. “You’re awfully kind to him,” he remarked, a teasing note dancing in his voice.

I caught the playful edge and felt a spark of mischief ignite within me. “Of course! His master treats me well, so I return the kindness,” I replied with mock solemnity. “As the saying goes, offer a peach, receive a pearl.”

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