The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 149

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 149**

**Aysel’s POV**

“And remember your place, Damon. You still carry the bond of betrothal to Celestine,” I warned, my voice dropping into a low growl that resonated with the weight of my words. “One misstep is enough—do you truly wish to tempt fate a second time?”

The moment my words hung in the air, I sensed a shift beside me. Magnus, who had been tense and coiled like a spring, began to relax, the storm clouds of annoyance dissipating from his features. It was as if sunlight had pierced through a dense fog in the human realm, or perhaps the gentle glow of moonlight was filtering through the trees of our world.

He stole a glance at Damon, who stood there like a statue, his legs rooted to the ground as if they were ancient tree trunks. I could feel the palpable tension between the two of them, like two rival wolves circling each other in the wild. Yet Magnus and I were in sync, our scents mingling, our bodies naturally close. The bond we shared felt as powerful as the moon’s favor, a protective aura that clung to Magnus like a mark of the wild.

Damon swallowed hard, the sound thick in the silence, a desperate attempt to mask the sting of frustration and loss that flickered in his eyes.

He forced a smile, though it lacked conviction, trying to convince both of us, “It’s alright… Aysel, you’re still young. Love and hatred can strike with such ferocity. I’ll wait for you to understand.”

His voice wavered, barely holding against the tempest that was Magnus and me. “Did you receive the hyacinths I sent? Would you like me to bring you some every day?”

Hyacinths? The Shadowbane Pack had never sent such trivial flowers before. I glanced at Magnus, curiosity piqued, only to find his gaze wandering nonchalantly to the corner of the room, as if he were suddenly captivated by the mundane.

I smiled faintly, intertwining my fingers with his, a gesture of solidarity, and replied lightly, “I threw them away.”

Four simple words, yet I could feel the ground shift beneath Damon’s feet.

He had always been cautious, meticulous in his words and actions, yet the sincerity in his tone was unmistakable. The lesson hung in the air, carved into our reality like claw marks on a tree’s bark. Damon’s pride would surely take a hit, but Magnus left no room for doubt—our bond was unbreakable, sacred in the eyes of the moon and the pack.

We continued onward, hand in hand, our silhouettes merging into a single shadow as we moved through the sterile hallway. Behind us, chaos erupted, voices startled, feet pattering in a frantic rush.

“Oh, doctor! Doctor! Someone’s bleeding!”

“Hurry! Lift the patient onto the stretcher!”

“So young… what trauma could have caused this?”