Aysel's POV Celestine's reputation was already ruined-shredded beyond repair. What I'd done to her... it wasn't just punishment. It was a clean severing of her future. I wanted her unable to rise again, not even by clawing her way into another field through dance. Utter, permanent downfall. A ruthless move, yes. But necessary. Serena, who acted as my executor this time, clearly felt the pressure. In a wolf-governed world, degree was everything-one inch too light, the target limps away; one inch too heavy, the blow snaps back and devours the deliverer. Faced with her hesitation, I only shrugged, my tone lazily confident. "If you don't want the job, I can find someone else." Truly, if it came down to it, I could ask Magnus to make a single phone call. With his influence as the Alpha of the Shadowbane Pack, doors opened, heads bowed, and obstacles dissolved into smoke. But this matter was small. Trivial, even. Letting Serena handle it gave both of us a win, and it kept Magnus' hands clean-no scent of interference on him, no trail for anyone to sniff out. Serena understood that perfectly. Her became silent for few seconds. The instinct to bargain-typical of Ironhowl wolves-vanished in a heartbeat. If Magnus interfered, Ironhowl wouldn't even get the scraps off the table. Against Shadowbane, the entire pack would be lucky to lick bone dust."Relax," she said at last, a grin audible in her voice. "I'll make it beautiful for you." We talked a bit more before she reminded me, "For the sake of our old patriarch, I'll demand a high price. But Moonvale won't want losses to pile up-they might try to solve the root of the issue. Since Aunt Agnes knows Magnus, Moonvale may come to you first, hoping for your forgiveness." A mosquito doesn't bite hard, but gods, it's annoying. I stretched, sitting up on the bed, my wolf purring lazily beneath my skin. "It's fine. Let them come. I have things to say to them too." Serena snorted. "Figures. Nothing for me to worry about on your side." Then her voice sharpened with mischief. "Also-waking up at this hour, ignoring my calls all night... Tell me, Aysel Vale, were you and a certain someone celebrating until dawn? Should you... be careful with yourself, hmm?" I didn't even flinch. "Oh? So invested in my nightlife because you don't have one of your own?" Serena-perpetually embroiled in Ironhowl succession battles and still single-went silent. ... Her offended growl came faintly through the line. Pathetic. ... After hanging up, I tugged down the collar of my sleep gown and peeked at my skin. Pristine. Then I flipped the hem higher, checking again-waist, hips, legs. All smooth. No bite marks. No claw trails.No scent bruises, no heat-burns from dominance. Nothing. I frowned. I remembered enough from last night. After I finished dancing, Magnus caught me-strong hands, Alpha aura wrapping me like armor. Worried I'd chill under the night wind, he hoisted me onto his back and carried me home despite my drunken thrashing. Before we left, I had even forced him to pick up trash. Magnus nearly laughed himself sick. "You're a drunk mess, yet somehow still civic-minded," he grumbled, ditching the call he had been about to make. Resigned, he spread his clean suit jacket on the ground, set me on it, and bent down-Shadowbane's Alpha, the continent's strongest wolf-personally cleaning up the mess I'd made. Only when the place was spotless did he lift me again, taking my heels in one hand and me slung over his back, step after steady step toward the car. Later, half-asleep in his arms, I still sensed everything- his thumbs kneading the sore arches of my feet, the warm cloth as he wiped them clean, the careful hands undressing me, washing away the night's dust, changing me into soft clothes, tucking me into bed. And yet... I looked again at my utterly untouched body. Not even a single heat-mark. Not a hint of losing control.Not a trace of Alpha restraint slipping. My brows shot up. Hold on. Was Magnus... incapable? A horrified gasp escaped me. I thumped the mattress with frustration. Then, refusing to spiral, I dove under the blanket like a shameless little rose in full thorn, grabbed my phone, and stabbed at the screen with ferocity. I sent him a message-direct, fearless, brutal. "Magnus Sanchez, are you... not capable?"