The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 308

Chapter 308

Aysel’s POV

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10

Finished

I felt the pulse of the pack even before I stepped onto the stage. The scent of the audience, the rhythm of their breathing-it was all part of the hunt, the dance, the life-force of a wolf among wolves.

Julia’s performance had been a blaze of fire. Her body, her will, her spirit-magnificent, untamed. And my choreography had guided her like the subtle influence of a shadow Alpha, unseen but undeniable. We moved together as predators and prey, partners in a delicate hunt that captivated every eye in the theater.

At the end, she turned toward the crowd, a wolf presenting her pack to the world, eyes bright, fangs hidden behind a smile.

“To reach today,” she said, voice ringing like a clarion in the pack hall, “I owe thanks to one who has guided me through crucial moments in my journey. Without her, I would not be who I am today. I am proud to introduce this extraordinary choreographer and dancer-Miss Aysel Vale.”

The lights shifted. Shadows danced across my black costume as I emerged. The scent of the crowd filled my nostrils, their anticipation buzzing like a distant hunt.

I moved to the music of “Tides Rise”, a piece no soul had ever witnessed before. Every step, every leap, was infused with the life of a wolf-strong, fierce, unbroken.

The world had long whispered about L, about me. That stolen solo by Celestine, the masterful roles in Sophia’s productions, the sequences in the wildly popular films-all traced back to my claws and instincts.

I didn’t need wealth; my work was not about gold but hunger, about the drive that pulsed in every muscle, in every bone. My pieces were precious, rare, and fiercely guarded. And tonight, for the first time, I bared my fangs in public, revealed the shape and form of the wolf behind the myth.

Some faces in the crowd were stunned. Few could have imagined that the wolf behind the legendary choreography was not only alive but young, beautiful, and utterly unyielding. The passion, the heart, the raw “emotion” I poured into every step-they felt it. A tide that rose and fell, a life unbowed, unstoppable, piercing the very marrow.

When the final note fell, some spectators silently shed tears. I bowed, head low, tail still poised in spirit. The applause thundered.

From the wings, Giovanna watched, her eyes soft, proud. I had once been her student, lost in the wilds of time, yet the hunt had never ceased.

Skylar and Serena pounded on with the rest of the pack, snapping photos, howling with the rhythm of applause, the wolf equivalent of reverence.

And there, at the side of the stage, I caught sight of a tall figure. Magnus, watching me with a predatory pride that made my heart thrum in a way no music ever could.

After the performance, many sought me out, curious about the wolf behind the mask. Invitations came, but I declined—this was my lone appearance, my hunt, and I would guard it jealously. Years later, only a few would realize that two great masters-one of movement, one of form-were the same predator, prowling in different packs.

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Chapter 308

Outside, the night was cool. Magnus walked beside me, the moon catching the glint of his eyes.

“Regret it?” he asked, his voice low, Alpha-close.

I shook my head. Life could never be too complete. To serve the pack from the shadows, to nurture the hunt quietly, was enough. The wolves on the stage would always shine; the wolves behind the curtain were no less vital. I accepted the imperfection of my path.

Magnus’s hand stroked my head. In his grasp was a bouquet, and he knelt before me with the reverence of: true Alpha.

“Then, Aysel Vale,” he said. “if your work satisfies you, will you allow me to walk beside you in life, to share the seasons, the hunts, the days to come?*

A diamond, carefully cut, gleamed in the moonlight, raised to my paw.

The storms had passed. He sought to build sunlit days with me.

I smiled, wolf eyes bright. “You know my answer.

He traced my claws with care, sliding the ring onto my finger. I reached up, eager for his embrace.

He lifted me, spun me around in a circle, strong arms anchoring me in his heat and strength. The cold, reserved Alpha of the Shadowbane Pack cried out to the sky:

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