The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 208

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 208**

**Aysel’s POV**

The clock had long passed the hour of one, its hands creeping forward as if reluctant to move.

Since we had shared our meal, I found myself anchored in this room, unable to step outside the cocoon of our recent intimacy. Magnus… he was like a tempest, determined to reclaim every lost moment, to make amends for the time that had stretched between us like an insurmountable chasm. The shadows of the night twisted everything into a disarray that felt suffocating. The bath, the window ledge, the sofa, the dressing table… each piece of furniture seemed to mock me with memories I couldn’t bear to confront. Even the large bed, damp and rumpled, felt like a daunting reminder of the vulnerability I had exposed.

Even the most lavish feast, when consumed in excess, leaves behind a sense of heaviness. My heart pulsed—not from hunger, but from a deeper, more tumultuous emotion. Tears streamed down my cheeks, unbidden and raw.

I whimpered softly, nudging him, pushing against him, even delivering a gentle kick, a playful protest against the overwhelming tide of feelings. But as soon as I lifted my leg, I froze. Magnus… his presence enveloped me, fierce and unrestrained, radiating a primal energy akin to a wolf ready to pounce.

He let out a low chuckle, a sound that resonated deep within me, and pressed closer, nuzzling my shoulder, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin where my teeth had left marks from trembling lips.

“Be still, little one. Open yourself to me,” he murmured, his voice a deep, rumbling echo that sent delightful shivers cascading down my spine, igniting a warmth that spread through me.

The following evening, I awoke, groggy and disoriented, my senses still tingling with remnants of the previous night. As my gaze swept the room, I realized I was in the guest chamber. Right. Magnus had moved me during the early hours; the main den had provided no sanctuary for rest.

A shiver ran through me as I recalled his appearance then—wild, untamed, and indulgently arrogant. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and his eyes sparkled with a predatory gleam, teasing me with that dangerous grin that sent my heart racing. He was more than just my culinary wolf-servant… he had the potential to be so much more. The thought made my cheeks flush with warmth even now, a lingering ember of desire.

At one point, I had clung to him, facing him directly. Each step he took felt like an intoxicating weight, his wolfish power pressing into me, making me acutely aware of my own vulnerability. I could still feel the scratch along his shoulder, a reminder of my frantic clawing as I lost myself in the moment.

I grasped the arm that had held me captive, feeling the strength of iron, and sat upright, inspecting the carpet that led to the bed.

Six months prior, she had been dealt the cruel hand of terminal illness. After that revelation, her envy of my happiness with the Moonvale Pack morphed into an obsessive, almost unnatural fixation. Even Luna Evelyn had noticed the shift, believing her sister had softened after her divorce. The bond between the sisters had never seemed stronger—until the moment the plan was set into motion.

Yuna Ward had chosen my birthday as the perfect moment to strike. With months of life still ahead, she had sacrificed everything for her daughter. A driver had been bribed, desperate for money to save his gravely ill son. Every detail had been meticulously orchestrated, exploiting Luna Evelyn’s guilt and Alpha Remus’s obsession with honor and reputation.

I… I had simply been the unfortunate target she had selected.

Fenrir and Lykos were spared from such a fate, their birthright and age shielding them from the storm that had engulfed me. The judgments of cruelty, pettiness, and selfishness that had once shadowed my name now felt painfully ironic. Luna Evelyn had judged correctly—her sister was sharper, more ruthless, and terrifyingly willing to sacrifice everything for her own ends.

And I… I had survived, but I carried the burden of all she had set in motion, a weight that felt heavier with every passing moment.