The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 177

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 177**

As the night deepened over Mistyhowl Mountain Lodge, the sky transformed into a vast tapestry of stars, twinkling like distant flames of a wolf’s fire, casting a serene glow over the gathering. The air was alive with the sounds of laughter, echoing from the younger members of the pack, their joy infectious.

“Have you heard the news? They say tonight is the night for shooting stars! Do you think we’ll be lucky enough to see one?” one wolf exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“And what if we do? Are you planning to confess your undying love to someone?” another teased, eliciting a chorus of giggles from the group.

Their playful banter filled the air, a warm blanket of camaraderie that wrapped around them. Yet, as the vibrant tunes of the band began to fade, a different melody emerged—pure, crystalline notes flowed through the air, drawing the attention of the pack.

At the piano, a striking figure emerged—a wolf clad in white, his black trousers glimmering under the moonlight. Damon Blackwood, the Alpha, sat poised at the keys. His features were sharply defined, as if sculpted from the very essence of memory. There was a commanding presence about him, yet it was tempered with a gentleness that belied his rank. His fingers glided gracefully over the piano keys, weaving into the familiar strains of “Für Elise.” Each note resonated with a bright, unspoken affection, drifting into the cool night, wrapping around the listeners like a comforting embrace.

Recognition sparked among the crowd.

“Look, it’s Damon Blackwood, our pack’s golden wolf!” one wolf exclaimed, eyes wide with admiration.

“I honestly thought he wouldn’t make it this year,” another chimed in, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Just look at all these decorations! Everything’s so different. Who do you think he’s planning to confess to?”

“Those flowers… they’re everywhere!”

“Could it be her?” a voice whispered, filled with intrigue.

“Not a chance! Her mate is Magnus Sanchez, the Shadowbane Alpha. Damon wouldn’t dare to cross that line—he knows better than to tread on dangerous ground.”

“But everyone knows he’s had a crush on Aysel Vale since school. It’s practically common knowledge,” another added, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his face.

“Shh! Remember, Damon is betrothed to Celestine Ward now,” someone cautioned, glancing around to ensure they weren’t overheard.

Whispers and speculations rippled through the gathering like a gentle breeze, the wolves’ eyes glinting with curiosity as they watched their Alpha play, captivated by the music and the man behind it. Yet, amidst the intrigue, one question lingered in the air, heavy with anticipation: where was Aysel?

Confused glances exchanged between the wolves, the atmosphere thick with unspoken worry.

Meanwhile, Aysel had stepped away to answer Magnus’ call, seeking refuge in a quiet nook of the lodge’s cliffside garden, where the moonlight bathed the flowers in ethereal silver. After hanging up, she turned, only to be intercepted by a familiar face from her past.

She had quietly amassed disappointment like a winter storm, until it reached its zenith, and she had chosen to let go—just as she had done with the Moonvale Pack.

Now, Damon Blackwood had the audacity to resurrect old matters, attempting to drag her back into the shadows of past miseries. Even in Magnus’ absence, she would not relent.

A low growl of revulsion rumbled in her throat, her claws grazing the petals strewn beneath her as she prepared to summon the lodge stewards to remove Damon from her sight.

But then, a calm voice, imbued with warmth and quiet strength, sliced through the tension that hung in the air.

Aysel turned, and the storm on her face softened in an instant. She felt an unexpected pang of longing mixed with relief.

“Magnus!” she exclaimed, her heart racing.

There he stood, as if he had stepped straight from her memories, framed by the moonlit path adorned with mountain flowers. His eyes were locked onto hers, brimming with unwavering devotion.

He stood alone in the gentle wind, a smile gracing his lips, arms opening wide in invitation.

The wolves who had delivered the roses watched helplessly as Aysel, the girl Damon believed he had a claim to, turned without a moment’s hesitation, leaping into the warm embrace of the true Alpha who had always held her heart.