The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 125

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 125**

**Third Person’s POV**

**58**

**Finished**

“She knows,” Agnes exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of excitement and hope. “My aunt is aware that the choreography for Chasing the Wind was crafted by you. She’s eager to find out if you might consider rejoining the dance circle. Even if your legs—well, your injury—prevent you from keeping pace with the top dancers, your talent is something that cannot be replaced. She believes that your stage extends beyond just the wooden boards.”

Aysel hesitated for a moment, her ears flicking slightly as she processed Agnes’s words. In the early days following her injury, the very halls of Moonvale had felt like a suffocating prison, each shadow and echo a poignant reminder of her lost grace and agility. She had distanced herself from the world of dance, avoiding it like a painful memory. But now, she had fought to carve out a space where her passion could thrive, no longer a burden but a source of joy.

“If the opportunity presents itself properly, I’ll consider it,” she replied, her tail flicking with a quiet restraint that belied the storm of emotions within her. “But I cannot treat it as my primary pursuit.”

Agnes’s tail danced with uncontainable joy, her fur bristling as if charged with electricity. “That’s perfectly fine! My aunt had already anticipated your response. She mentioned that whenever inspiration strikes, you two could collaborate. She’ll be there to help push your ideas forward. Plus, some of her pack allies might even invite you to serve as an external adviser for their performances.”

Aysel nodded once, a subtle yet firm gesture of agreement.

Agnes could hardly contain her excitement, practically bouncing on her paws. Even if Aysel chose not to immerse herself back into the dance packs, she was determined that her talent would not fade into obscurity. The young wolf had initially feared that persuading Aysel would be a daunting task, but Aysel’s calm and resolute demeanor made the mission feel almost effortless.

A smile spread across Agnes’s face as she recognized a truth that had become increasingly evident: it was no wonder Magnus held Aysel in such high regard. Aysel Vale was a wolf who remained unbroken, self-reliant, clever, and resilient—time and again, she had pulled herself from the depths of despair, a beacon of light for all who had the privilege to see her shine. In stark contrast, the Moonvale Pack appeared simplistic, predictable, and myopic in their views.

The Moonvale kin were not merely skinned; they were left crippled, vulnerable.

Remus’s frustration, raw and volatile, seeped into his thoughts of Celestine. If she hadn’t been so reckless, so desperate to grasp at Chasing the Wind, would any of this turmoil have come to pass? Even the twinges of guilt over reclaiming her shares and estates were dulled by the overwhelming anger that consumed him.

But the one truly broken in this saga was Celestine. Her fall from grace had been swift and merciless, culminating in a form of imprisonment she had never dared to envision. Serena’s intervention had only exacerbated her plight.

Initially, the Moonvale kin had visited her frequently, offering hollow words of comfort, but as time wore on, their attention dwindled like leaves falling from a tree in autumn. She found herself struggling alone within the confines of the den, a silent observer of events unfolding around her, powerless to shift the tide of fate.

Even Damon had made an appearance, his dark presence filling the room like a storm cloud. He had interrogated her about the accident that had befallen Aysel, probing whether her claws had been the cause, before delivering a final warning: this would be the last time he would intervene on her behalf.

Celestine’s isolation was now complete, a suffocating silence enveloping her as she faced the consequences of her past choices.