The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 27

**Midnight Letters by Daniel Crowe**
**Chapter 27**

**Aysel’s POV**

“Magnus… do you think I have a crush on you?”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, my tail flicking playfully beneath the covers, a remnant of my wolfish instincts. It always amused me how our conversations danced on the edge of provocation, a constant game of teasing that seemed to come so naturally to us.

“I permit you to entertain small thoughts about me,” he replied, his voice a smooth, teasing drawl that wrapped around me like predatory silk.

“Oh please, I suggest you cleanse your mind of such ridiculous notions,” I shot back, baring my teeth in a mock threat, the laughter bubbling just beneath the surface.

Even in the sanctuary of our private moments, we never managed to maintain two minutes of sincere seriousness. It was peculiar—two wolves, both notorious for their icy, controlled facades, somehow managing to weave mischief and flirtation into every exchange.

“Miss Vale, you speak in half-truths. You tell me to leave, yet here you are, seducing me,” he said, that infuriating calmness of his washing over me like a tide.

I followed his gaze, and my stomach dropped. The loose sleepwear I had thrown on was bunched awkwardly, revealing far more than I had intended as I sat on the rug between the tea table and the sofa. My heart raced, a rush of warmth flooding my cheeks as fur prickled along my spine—a primal warning. I shot my hands up instinctively to cover myself, feeling exposed.

“You’re yelling at nothing!” I exclaimed, my voice higher than I intended, cheeks blazing like a bonfire.

Magnus lounged casually on the sofa, leaning back with that infuriatingly relaxed demeanor. “You haven’t realized yet? The whole neighborhood knows. They think we’re the perfect pair—Aysel Vale and Magnus Sanchez, the unmatched power couple of the Moonvale precincts.”

A scream escaped my lips, and before I could think, my palm connected sharply with his chest in a swift slap. “What rumors have you spread outside?”

“I’ve merely done a small good deed,” he replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. The Alpha scent that clung to him—strong, commanding, metallic—made it impossible to deny the satisfaction he derived from the chaos he had stirred.

I slumped back, overwhelmed by the absurdity of it all. One moment, I was a recovering single wolf of the Vale bloodline; the next, I was thrust into a world where I was supposedly married by mere rumor alone.

“What if you leave after this is all settled?” My voice trembled with frustration, my claws lightly digging into the rug beneath me, an instinctive response to the turmoil within.

Magnus didn’t shy away. Instead, he leaned in, his wolf instincts coiling around us like a taut wire, the scent of him sharp and intoxicating in my nostrils. “The best way to silence the gossip is to confirm it,” he murmured, his tone low and dangerously inviting.

I raised my head, my fangs glinting in the soft light. “What do you mean?”

Magnus shed the playful Alpha I had glimpsed earlier, revealing the heir of Shadowbane—ruthless, deliberate, the predator who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

“Family is just a word,” he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous hum. “It doesn’t guarantee worth. Aysel Vale, the chance is before you. All the things you cannot do, constrained by the Vale legacy, are yours for the taking if you nod once.”

His words wrapped around me like a dark temptation, silky and enticing as the night sky. The Vale had loved me as a child, imperfectly but enough to bind me to them. But Magnus… Magnus had no such attachments, no sentimentality. His patience and ruthlessness were his weapons, and my hesitation was a weakness he could sense with every fiber of his being.

“You only speak of what you can give me,” I replied evenly, forcing my claws to remain retracted, the urge to strike simmering just beneath the surface. “What price do you expect?”

He smiled, a flicker of admiration crossing his features. “Being Mrs. Sanchez is not an easy path. Life may not be calm. Danger may be a constant companion.”

“And when your goal is achieved? Divorce?” I asked, my voice steady, though my wolfish intuition coiled beneath my skin, warning me to tread carefully. “I’m not willing to risk my life for revenge alone. Marriage should be the union of two who love each other.”

He chuckled, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. “Marriage takes many forms. Yours is the most fragile.”

He leaned closer, his voice low and teasingly insidious. “And what gave you the idea this is a sham? Even with an agreement, it’s real. A shared bed, a shared life—are you avoiding the duties of a mate?”