The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 299

Chapter 299

Third Person’s POV

…

23

Finished

Determined, she corralled a group of younger cubs to pepper Alfie with questions, keeping him firmly occupied, ensuring he could not approach Aysel. Alfie’s instincts told him what she was doing, and though he could have resisted, he didn’t. Seven years past, seven years present, he had always been an observer.

Aysel’s luck today seemed to clash with the fates themselves. First the spilled wine incident, then moments later, a clumsy cub knocked over a tray of desserts, coating her cerulean dress in sticky frosting. There was no choice but to retreat to the antechamber once more.

Yet, as the door swung open, Aysel sensed an unusual tension in the air.

Bastien sat comfortably, his predatory gaze tempered by contentment. His heir and mate were the embodiment of harmony; even Aysel, the wildest of the Moonvale Pack, had behaved throughout the night. He cast a satisfied glance at Magnus.

“The two of you-when will you bind your fates in marriage?” he rumbled, his voice a low growl veiled with jest.

Magnus toyed with the leather band Aysel had absentmindedly placed on his wrist, a sly smirk playing across his face. “Grandfather, are you eager to see the little wolf enter the den?”

Bastien’s eyes narrowed. “I’d say the eagerness lies more with you.”

Aysel was marked unmistakably as Magnus’ own, her scent claimed, her presence a living declaration to all of the city: the Moonvale and Shadowbane wolves were indivisible. Marriage was inevitable. Soon, she would be the matriarch of Shadowbane, poised and proper, a figure of respect in the pack’s den.

In his mind lingered the fallen second son, Ulric, and Ivy, once arrogant and now hollowed by Darkmoon Pack’s collapse. The sigh he exhaled carried the weight of long-buried regrets.

Magnus seemed to read his thoughts, voice casual yet sharp as the edge of a wolf’s fang. “Even if we marry, we may never truly belong to the Sanchez den.”

Bastien arched a brow. “You-”

Before words could continue, a cub burst into the hall. “Something’s wrong!”

The patriarch’s heart stuttered, the ancient intuition of the pack sensing danger. Magnus’ posture shifted instantly; his normally composed face now shadowed with a predator’s darkness.

1/3

15:24 Tue, Dec 23

Chapter 299

23

Finished

“The nature of the Sanchez Pack is to seize,” he said, voice low and resonant, carrying a warning laced with ice. “A wolf king can only hold one throne. Expecting harmony among wolves is folly.”

With that, he followed the cub toward the source of trouble.

Whispers spread quickly: the Shadowbane heir’s prize had been cornered by a mysterious son of the Fifth House. The celebratory den trembled at the news. The younger wolves were aflutter, unsure whether to gawk or flee. None dared approach the antechamber, sensing the wrath of a wolf scorned.

At the threshold, Magnus let out a humorless chuckle, then pushed the door open.

“Hi-” Aysel’s voice chimed like wind through the pines, her small frame stepping into his protective embrace. Behind her, the fragile Johanna remained calm, exchanging silent understanding with Ulva, who stood unmoved by the commotion outside.

Magnus’ hands raked through Aysel’s hair, brushing back the few rebellious strands. “Are you unharmed?”

“I’m fine,” Aysel replied, bright-eyed, tail flicking with mischief. “Just chatted with Aunt Johanna But why is everyone so riled up?”

Ulva’s expression softened slightly. “A rumor reached the servants-they feared for your safety. That’s why they came.”

Aysel’s lips curved in amusement. “I’m fine. But perhaps the others truly need your attention.” She pointed toward the closed door across the hall.

All eyes shifted to the sealed chamber. Ulva’s smile faded. “Ensuring Aysel’s safety is enough. Bring everyone else back. I will handle it.”

“No need,” Aysel interrupted, a mischievous glint in her amber eyes. “The guests are here— might as well witness the spectacle.”

The typically serene Ulva pressed her lips into a thin line, holding Aysel’s gaze with silent authority.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify