The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 338

His mouth snapped shut.

“Alpha Kacl, this folder is the info you asked me to compile a few days ago on the Eastwood sector. Reliable sources say that land will be auctioned off in two weeks.”

I muttered, “Leave it.”

After Luca left, I stared blankly at the desk for a long while before starting to deal with the work at hand.

The new policy planned to develop Eastwood into a commercial district. As long as the policy held, securing that land would be a guaranteed big win.

But we weren’t the only ones eyeing it.

The Stormridge Pack from Northhaven also showed serious interest.

Scarlett was betrothed to Ronan, and a joint development between Blackmaw and Ebonclaw on Eastwood would be a perfect win-win.

What I wasn’t sure about was Stormridge’s attitude.

Stormridge was one of the most powerful Packs in the northern capital, with a heritage far exceeding that of Ebonclaw. If they decided to take Eastwood all for themselves, then Ebonclaw and the Blackmaw would be out of luck.

Work was a mess. Family was a mess.

I felt like my head was about to explode.

I stared at the desk.

About the bandage soaked in my sister’s blood.

I’d seen it with my own eyes.

Who the hell did that to her?

Was it Ronan?

That smug bastard from the Blackmaw Pack?

My fists curled until my knuckles ached.

Riley might’ve messed up. Might’ve made enemies. Might’ve torn this family apart.

But she’s still my sister.

Still Ebonclaw blood.

And she didn’t deserve to be thrown around like some rogue trash because that bastard lost his precious little Tessa.

I barely made it through the rest of the day.

3/5

O

Midnight came. I didn’t go home.

I drove straight to the Silverfang Den-one of those upscale dens where bored nobles drank away their honor and wolves forgot who they were for a night.

It was dark inside. Loud music. Low lights. Shadows dancing on leather couches. The air thick with alcohol. perfume, and Pack musk.

I went straight to the bar and dropped onto a stool.

“Something strong.” I said.

The bartender gave me a look, then slid me a glass. I tossed it back without thinking. The burn hit my throat hard. It helped. Barely.

I downed another.

And another.

Riley had changed.

So much.

Too much.

She used to look at me like I was her brother. Like I mattered. Like my approval meant something.

Now she barely looked at me at all.

She didn’t even try anymore.

And it pissed me off more than I wanted to admit.

I slammed my glass down and reached for another.

But someone beat me to it.

A pale, long-fingered hand slid across the bar and snatched it first.

I turned, pissed off. “The hell-”

The guy didn’t respond.

Just threw the drink back like water.

It took my eyes a second to focus under the strobe lights.

And then I saw him.

Ronan.

The prince of the Blackmaw Pack.

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