The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 656

Chapter 656

Third Person’s POV

The Eastern Pack manor had grown quieter since the night Lucien had carried Aria-Riley-back from the West. The air within its stone walls was thick with healing herbs, whispered prayers, and the restless pacing of a mate who refused to leave her side.

Day after day, Lucien remained near her bed. When she drifted in and out of uneasy sleep, he read softly from old tomes, or told her stories of battles fought and nights when the moon shone silver on their land. His voice was roughened by sorrow, but beneath it, a pulse of love ran steady as a heartbeat.

Professor Maeryn came often, her hands tracing ancient sigils in the air, her spells weaving calm into Aria’s dreams. She used roots and crystals, water drawn beneath a waxing moon, and words only the oldest wolves remembered. When shadows of torment rose to twist Aria’s sleep, Maeryn’s magic smoothed them, easing her mind back into light.

But Lucien was not the only one who kept vigil.

Matriarch Duskgrave brought her strength, sitting like a sentinel in the corner, whispering blessings from the Goddess as she watched over the sleeping woman. Mrs. Beck often came with warm broths and gentle humming. her presence motherly, grounding. Mia arrived with flowers from the garden, always arranging them so that the room smelled faintly of spring. And Carmen-wild, fierce Carmen-would slip in quietly, her eyes burning bright, whispering to the unconscious Aria as if she could hear: Don’t leave me again, sister. You promised to show me how to be strong.

Together, they formed a circle of devotion around the woman who had once been Riley, who was now Aria, who was both and neither.

And slowly, the miracle began.

Her breathing steadied. Her restless tossing eased. She began to respond to Lucien’s voice, a twitch of fingers, a faint furrow of brow. Until, one morning, when dawn painted the window with gold, her eyes opened.

Lucien was there, as always. He froze, hardly daring to breathe as he met the clear, uncertain gaze of his mate.

“Aria,” he whispered. “Or… Riley.”

Her lips parted, her voice hoarse from disuse. “Lucien.”

The sound of his name on her tongue nearly broke him His wolf howled inside, claws digging into his heart. He reached for her hand, and this time she held on.

Memories came in fragments at first, scattered like shards of glass. She remembered his hand on hers, guiding her through a forest long ago. His voice raised in argument, but always protective. The warmth of his embrace under moonlight, the way he had whispered promises no war could take from them.

She did not remember everything-her life as Riley, the years stolen from her-but she remembered him. And she remembered enough to understand.

“I was meant for peace,” she murmured one night, when the others had left them alone. Her eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, wolf aura stirring around her. “Not endless battles. Not chains of another Pack. The Goddess kept me alive for this.”

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