The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 163

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 163**

In a quiet corner of the room, Magnus’s emotions churned like a stormy sea, a tempest fueled by jealousy and the weight of resentment that clung to him like a second skin. He found himself sitting uncomfortably close to Aysel, his tail flicking restlessly beneath the sofa, each notification ping from his phone igniting a flicker of irritation within him. Just days had passed since the somber farewell to Anna, yet Aysel was already being pulled back into the web of her past by an invitation from old acquaintances—a high school reunion, orchestrated by some of her former packmates who had long since scattered to the winds.

The gathering was set for two days and one night at Mistyhowl Mountain Lodge, a place steeped in memories of their earlier bonding retreats. Aysel’s heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. High school had been a labyrinth of shadows for her, where Celestine Ward had lurked like a predator, a constant thorn in her side. The thought of mingling with half-remembered faces from her past sent a shiver of reluctance down her spine. Yet, as her finger hovered hesitantly over the message that read, “Even the class leader will attend,” a flicker of curiosity ignited within her.

Magnus, his tail twitching with barely concealed irritation, leaned closer, his amber eyes narrowing as they scanned the screen. “Class leader?” he growled, the low rumble of his voice laced with a possessive undertone, a wolf asserting its claim over what it held dear.

Aysel offered a faint smile, but it was enough to send Magnus’s hackles bristling. Each name on that list felt like a pawprint marking her history, and with each passing moment, he felt himself growing more restless, like a predator circling prey that remained just out of reach. “Then I go with you,” he stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“You were supposed to leave for Europe,” Aysel reminded him gently, her tone light, but the weight of his intentions hung heavy in the air.

The tickets had been hers to secure, yet Magnus had delayed his departure time and again, an unshakeable shadow of separation anxiety draping over his broad shoulders. Jackson had made numerous attempts to adjust their plans, but Magnus, stubborn as a mountain wolf, refused to budge unless Aysel personally intervened. Though he held the title of Alpha of the Shadowbane Pack, it was her gentle hand that anchored him to patience.

As the hour of departure approached, Magnus finally relented, his voice faltering as Aysel’s quiet smile disarmed him. “I can…” he began, but the words trailed off as he succumbed to her warmth.

He slumped back in a mix of relief and frustration, pulling her close, nuzzling against her shoulder as if seeking solace in her presence. “I want to take you with me,” he confessed, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the very fabric of the room.

Aysel leaned back, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she brushed her lips teasingly against his in fleeting, playful bites. “Good boy… I’ll be back before you know it,” she promised, her words light but filled with an undercurrent of affection.

Magnus’s teeth grazed the soft flesh of her cheek, savoring the moment before he playfully growled, “Who is this class leader?”

Aysel’s laughter bubbled forth, a melodious sound that flowed like a river over smooth stones, lightening the atmosphere between them.

Yet, this playful exchange, sparked by an innocuous invitation, was but a flicker of joy amidst a brewing storm elsewhere. The invitation had failed to mention that this gathering would not be limited to a single class; it would encompass an entire grade. Among those invited were Celestine Ward and Damon Blackwood, figures from Aysel’s past that haunted her memories.

In a cruel twist of fate, an impish soul even delivered an invitation to Celestine behind the cold bars of her confinement. The moment she clutched the delicate, brightly colored invitation—the stark contrast against the gray of her surroundings—her frail frame twisted in a violent rage. With a piercing screech, she tore it to shreds, flinging bedding and furniture in a whirlwind of fury, as if trying to crush the mockery of those who had tormented her.

“Vile wolves! All of you!” she roared, her pack instincts flaring even from behind the bars that confined her.

High school had once been a shining season for Celestine, a time when she had basked in the glow of admiration. But now, she felt the weight of her past pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. Aysel had once stood in her shadow, her mother’s death pinned as a curse upon her name, while Celestine had thrived. Yet, the tables had turned, and now it was Aysel who had clawed her way to the top, earning accolades that had only isolated her further. Celestine had deserved to shine, to command the admiration of her peers, but she found herself trapped in a dark, suffocating den, her left leg crippled, her health deteriorating, and her dignity shattered, forced to endure the humiliation of being a predator caged.