Third Person's POV On the other side, the eyes of the Fifth Branch-Lyall Sanchez, Johanna, and their son Alfie-also landed on the pair who stood whispering with dangerous intimacy: Aysel and Magnus. Lyall poured Johanna a cup of steaming moonleaf tea, his tone unreadable as he murmured, "Magnus and his father clash like fire and winter steel, yet when it comes to their hearts... they are carved from the same bone. Back then, Second Brother Ulric flaunted his favoritism for Raya just as openly." Johanna's expression remained calm, the surface of a frozen lake that revealed nothing. She did not comment. Instead, her gaze shifted toward her son-Alfie Sanchez, silent since the moment they stepped into the Sanchez ancestral grounds. She hesitated before asking softly, "Have you decided?" Alfie didn't answer. His golden eyes followed a butterfly-its wings shimmering like a blue Morpho touched with lunar dust-until it landed lightly upon the shoulder of the girl in a black dress. Aysel, laughing at something Magnus whispered, sunlight on her hair, the scent of wild hyacinth and moonlight drifting from her as naturally as breath. When the ashes of Anna were finally lowered into the Sanchez private burial grounds, the ceremony came to an end. Some guests departed. Only the main bloodlines of the Sanchez family remained, along with a few allied branches. The oppressive atmosphere of the old estate eased immediately. Young wolves scattered like restless pups-some heading toward the riding fields, others to the game lounges, others lounging at the tea pavilions. Near the pond, a cluster of boys and girls from distant branches kept shifting their weight anxiously, ears tilted in the direction of the forest path. Noah, however, would not shut up. He was still ranting viciously about Magnus and Aysel, spitting venom the way a lesser wolf snarls at a superior predator from behind a safe fence.The others suffered visibly. If Magnus or Aysel overheard their "tiny rebellion chorus," they would all be dead meat. But Noah was the blood grandson of Bastien Sanchez, the ancestral patriarch. His mother, Rudi, had always been exceptionally favored. No one there could afford to offend him. The young wolves pretended to listen, their "mm" and "ah" responses weak and terrified. Finally, a girl with heavy bangs rolled her eyes so hard she nearly tipped over. She bit her tongue, swallowed, but eventually couldn't hold it back when Noah sneered that Magnus "only became the Shadowbane Alpha by luck." "There's no way that's true," she blurted. "Under his leadership, the Shadowbane territory reached a new peak-stronger than any era before. That's not luck." Noah's gaze turned murderous instantly-wolf-dark, predatory. The girl shrank. Her friend hurriedly dragged her behind him and laughed nervously, "She hasn't even graduated from the Academy yet. She's talking nonsense. Don't mind her, Noah." But Noah's resentment only sank deeper into his marrow. No one who hadn't grown up in the shadow of Magnus Sanchez could understand what it meant. Magnus wasn't just a stronger wolf-he was an entire storm system that swallowed your sky. A nightmare that draped over your life. Even Noah's own mother-who hated Raya and her son Magnus-still complained that Noah couldn't measure up to Magnus' brilliance, dominance, or raw wolf-bone instinct. If he had that talent, she wouldn't have to cling desperately to her natal pack for footing. Noah had despised Magnus since childhood. Seeing Magnus appear today-representing the Sanchez family with cold dignity, refusing to socialize yet still pursued eagerly by every elder-made Noah's insides twist with fury. He spat, "So Magnus is powerful. So what? Do you think any of that benefits you? Wake up. Do you know how the Fourth Aunt Anna really died?" The air turned suffocating.Everyone's faces paled instantly. Before anyone could flee, a slow, honey-sweet voice drifted from behind a line of trees. "Oh? It seems little cousin has quite a lot to say about our Alpha Magnus~" Aysel stepped out from the shadows, leading her companion wolf-hound Daron whose shoulders nearly reached her waist. Her steps were unhurried, casual, but her presence made the entire group stiffen. Young wolves froze. All except Noah, who forced himself to lift his chin defiantly. "I didn't say anything wrong," he snapped. "Magnus is a killer. A crazed wolf who can't control his instincts." His lip curled. "And you-just a female who hasn't even married into the family yet-think you can act like the mistress of the house? Who do you think you are?" He snorted viciously. "Who knows-maybe soon you'll just be a discarded-"