The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 164

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 164**

As the laughter and jubilant celebrations echoed from outside, Celestine found herself trapped in this wretched den, a prison of her own making. How could they revel in merriment while she languished in despair?

Fury coursed through her veins like wildfire, igniting a tempest within the cramped quarters. The neighboring bunks erupted into chaos, beds overturned and soaked with the remnants of her rage. Her fellow prisoners, returning from the grueling labor, stood frozen in disbelief, their claws clenched and tails bristling with indignation.

“Damn it! Celestine, who do you think you are—a pampered highborn wolf?” A voice thundered, filled with disdain. Fists and boots swung in her direction, but with a swift, practiced agility, she evaded their blows, her growl a low, steady rumble in her throat, a warning to those who dared challenge her.

The Moonvale Pack had betrayed her. Worthless wolves! Worthless!

If they had the power to lessen her sentence, then why, in the name of the moon, could they not transfer her to a better den? Why allow her to suffer in this cage, forced to witness the slow erosion of her strength and spirit? Did they truly believe her worth diminished when her mate sought refuge in higher ground? It was a mockery, a cruel jest. Aysel Vale would never turn back to her, and Celestine vowed that no one would escape her wrath either.

Her heart blazed with indignation, the fury coiling within her like a wolf poised for a lethal strike. The flames of vengeance flickered not just for the Moonvale Pack, but also for Damon Blackwood, the one who had abandoned her when she needed protection the most. Since her fall, he had remained conspicuously absent, leaving her to grapple with her despair alone.

Yet, Celestine’s anger clouded her perception of the intricate web of alliances that surrounded her. In truth, Damon had acted out of a misguided sense of honor. He had been there for her in her last moments of freedom, helping her navigate the aftermath of her calamity, leaving their relationship in a state of painful clarity.

Above her loomed Knox Draven’s oppressive influence, a dark shadow that discouraged any wolf from intervening on her behalf. Even if someone were to break the rules in her favor, the Moonvale elders would not dare challenge the status quo. Magnus had seen to it that her den was maintained, yet her life remained a relentless cycle of suffering and despair.

“Smack!”

The sound of the slap reverberated through the den, leaving Damon momentarily stunned. His mother’s eyes blazed with a mix of disappointment and fury, a tempest of emotion.

“Open your eyes, Damon,” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “You are striking against Magnus as a mere pup would a lion. What right do you have to contest him for this female? Your fragile claim to the Blackwood legacy is meaningless. And your tenuous connection to Aysel Vale—don’t you see? You lost the moment her talons pierced your heart. From that birthday gathering onward, you have been utterly defeated.”

Memories of that fateful night surged back like jagged teeth, each recollection a painful reminder of his descent into misfortune, the unraveling of every wolf’s path. Luna Blackwood lamented ever trusting the deceitful tales spun by Aysel’s brother and the elders of Moonvale, believing that Aysel would willingly surrender to the engagement.

A dark intuition whispered to her, warning that had Damon not been cornered by Magnus, pushed into a desperate act, he would never have conspired with Moonvale, nor attempted to force Aysel’s compliance with a grandmother’s talisman. The tangled threads of fate were weaving a narrative neither of them could escape.