The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 165

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**

**Chapter 165**

The air was thick with tension as Aysel stood at the precipice of her emotions, her heart a tempest of fury and despair. She had never imagined she would retaliate with such ferocity—this was not the girl who had once played in the sunlit glades of their childhood. No, this was a woman forged in the fires of betrayal and loss.

If only the past had been kinder, if only the memories of laughter and shared dreams had not been ground into dust beneath the weight of their fractured bond. Once, she and Damon had been inseparable, their scents mingling like the earthy aroma of the forest after rain, their spirits entwined like young wolves destined to run the same trails through life.

But then came Celestine, a dark shadow that had consumed Damon’s heart, leading him astray into a world of reckless abandon with Dariusz. Aysel had understood the pull of love, the way it could warp one’s perception. Yet, by her very nature, she would have simply severed their connection and walked away, allowing the tides of fate to carry them apart.

Had that been the extent of her suffering, she would have never allowed Magnus to unleash his fury upon the Blackwood Pack. She would have held back Rafe’s wrath, honoring the memory of the boy who had once shielded her from the storms of life. But Damon and Celestine had pushed her, time and again, until she could no longer bend or yield.

Now, all that remained was a barren landscape of severed ties and scorched earth, devoid of affection, shared history, or the warmth of pack camaraderie.

Luna Blackwood, her mother, gazed at her son, whose face bore the marks of her earlier slap—his cheeks flushed, his silence as solid as stone. A sharp pang of sorrow twisted in her heart as she surveyed the fallout of their choices.

“This is not the moment to chase after love,” she growled, her voice low and edged like a wolf’s warning. “Even if you somehow manage to drag her back into your arms, do you truly believe you can keep her?”

Damon’s eyes flickered, a tremor of uncertainty rippling through his aura. His mother’s words struck him cold, like the biting frost of winter.

“Celestine Ward is already languishing in the dungeons. Even if she were to emerge, she would be of no use to you—she’s a broken fang, entirely useless to the Blackwood Pack. We showed mercy by not severing ties with her immediately.”

She leaned closer, her claws tapping against the table with a rhythmic insistence that mirrored her resolve.

“What you need now is a powerful alliance,” she continued, her gaze unwavering.

Alpha Blackwood himself, already seething with anger over Damon’s reckless defense of Celestine, had watched helplessly as the Blackwood Pack bled resources, lost valuable partnerships, and faced the ever-looming threat of Magnus Sanchez’s shadow. Every wolf within the corporation lived in fear, their tails tucked in uncertainty, waiting for the moment when the Shadowbane Alpha would strike.

His disappointment in Damon deepened with each passing day, a heavy weight that Luna perceived all too clearly.

“If you do not fight, what will you use to challenge your father? And how will you compete with the other offspring he has placed outside the den?”

Damon stiffened, his resolve hardening against the notion of political mating.

“That pup—” he hissed through clenched teeth, “I will not allow it to be born.”

The memory of his last visit to the hospital surged in his mind—his father standing protectively beside another she-wolf during a prenatal examination. Rage, disbelief, and humiliation coiled within him like a serpent ready to strike.

A single unborn cub?

How could it possibly pose a threat to him?

His mother’s laughter rang out, sharp and humorless, cutting through his thoughts.

Damon’s shoulders sagged under the weight of her words, as if the entire burden of the pack had been placed upon him. Each statement she made pierced him, revealing the truth he had long avoided—the truth he feared to confront.

The invitation to the reunion crumpled in his clenched fist, the paper wrinkling under the pressure of his emotions. His eyes burned with unshed tears, his voice thick with desperation.

“Mother… I just want to try again. Just once more. I love her. I have loved her for so many years. I cannot fathom a life without her.”

He loved her so deeply that he believed they were reflections of one another—two shadows cast by the same moon.

Because he had been so certain she would always remain by his side, he had grown careless, wandering through life with a sense of invulnerability, only to lose her entirely.

How could he possibly let go?

How could he choose between the Blackwood legacy and Aysel?

“Mother, please…”

Luna Blackwood exhaled slowly, a sigh that was not filled with softness, but rather the resignation of a wolf who knows the battle is already lost.

“If you had known this earlier,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “why didn’t you stop before the damage was done?”