The Pack's Daughter (Aysel and Magnus) novel Chapter 657

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Chapter 657

Third Person’s POV

The council chamber of the neutral grounds was steeped in tension, every stone carrying the weight of centuries of bloodshed between the East and the West. Torches guttered along the walls, their flames flickering in the draft, casting sharp shadows across the long oak table where two Alphas sat facing one another.

Lucien of the East, his posture sharp as a drawn blade, eres burning with the cold restraint of a wolf barely holding back his fury. Aedric Stormbane of the West, his jaw locked, shoulders broad, and aura heavy as a thunderstorm. Between them, Professor Maeryn stood like the spine of the moon itself-old, unyielding, and strangely calm.

She spread her hands over the maps and parchments scattered on the table. “Enough blood has been shed,” she said, her voice carrying authority that silenced even the lowest growls in the chamber. “If this war continues, both your Packs will be weakened until the rogues circle like vultures and tear you apart. Neither East nor West will survive alone. The only path forward s peace.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge.

Lucien’s hand twitched at his side, but his gaze never left Aedric’s. “And what do you propose, Professor? That I forget the wolves we’ve buried? The cities burned”

“And what do you propose I forget?” Aedric shot back, his voice sharp as broken glass. “The warriors who bled on eastern soil, the brothers I carried to their graves?”

Maeryn did not flinch. “I propose that you both remember them-not to continue the slaughter in their names, but to end it. Let their sacrifices mean something.”

The silence stretched until Lucien leaned forward, his claws scraping faintly against the table’s edge. “The East will cede the Eastern outlands by the river. A buffer zone. Stormbane may have it. But in return, the West will swear before the ldess not to march against us again.”

The chamber erupted.

Eastern wolves growled in outrage, voices rising in a chorus of protest. “The riverlands are ours!” “They’ve taken too much already!” “How can we trust them?”

Across the table, Western wolves slammed their fists, snarling that it was not enough, that no true Alpha would accept such a pitiful compromise.

But Maeryn’s voice cut through the uproar like steel. “Silence! The first step is always the hardest. Concessions must be made-for survival, for the generations to come. If you cannot see that, you are not worthy of the packs you claim to lead.”

Lucien’s gaze swept across his packmates, his wolf aura flaring in a silent command for obedience. “You question me?” His voice was low, dangerous. “You dare to defy the Alpha when I tell you this will keep your pups alive? When I tell you this will end the funerals?”

The dissent faltered beneath the weight of his fury, though mutters still simmered.

On the other side, Aedric rose to his feet, his aura pressing heavy against the chamber. “Enough.” His voice shook the walls. “You call me weak for seeking peace? Then you are fools. I have fought enough wars to know victory is nothing but ashes when you bury your sons in it. If you cannot follow me into peace, then you do not deserve to follow me into battle either.”