Third Person's POV Aysel was the kind of wolf that made even seasoned Alphas pause. If she ever crossed the threshold of another pack's den as a mate, it would feel like the heavens themselves bowed. Today, Bastien had deliberately tested the sharpness of her fangs. Around them, a throng of young wolves and heirs felt the weight of the den's gaze like iron collars. Dennis and Bastien were not packs to offend lightly, yet standing on the other side were Magnus and Aysel-angelic in appearance, predatory in essence. The air thrummed with tension, hearts pounding, tails stiff with fear. Who knew if the next misstep would land them in the infirmary like Rudi and Noah? Still, to lie in this den was dangerous. It could be sniffed out instantly. Then, the boldest of the young wolves, the one with the straight-cut bangs, stepped forward, spine straight, her voice unwavering. "I heard Noah insult Alpha Magnus. His words were cruel. And yes-he touched Aysel." A collective intake of breath swept through the hall. Even if a claw or a strike had brushed a cheek, it did not diminish the truth behind her words. The Alpha had arrived, and she had not lied once. One by one, the other young wolves followed suit, squeaks of confirmation vibrating through the den's tense air. "Noah was fierce in his attitude," one admitted. "The pond? He leapt of his own accord," another clarified, though it was Aysel's hound that had herded him. "We wanted to save him, but Miss Vale was already descending," whispered a third, tense with guilt. "Miss Vale did have them pulled out," another admitted, eyes lowered, though barely half a breath later they had been thrust back. "She never meant for them to die," one finally admitted, the scent of awe and fear clinging to her words. If it weren't for the splintered bodies and water-soaked fur of Rudi and Noah, the others would have believed these wolves' unwavering testimonies. Dennis' anger flared. "Fine, fine! Magnus is the next Alpha, you all fear him, yet you try to placate me, an outsider? Some wolves, not even mated yet, already play at dominance over long-established elders! Father, do you see this?" His teeth clenched as he glared. His gaze darkened, fixed on the increasingly vocal young wolves. "I don't trust their testimony. Bring up the surveillance." The steward stepped forward, calm as ever, tail flicking subtly. "Dennis, the pond's observation run was destroyed in the recent storm. It has not yet been restored." Dennis' growl was silent but felt through the hall, a coil of frustration. The timing of the storm seemed... strategic. He chose silence, eyes locked on Bastien, awaiting judgment from the pack's apex. Bastien Sanchez scanned the hall. Most had little stake in this particular skirmish, aside from the few younger wolves swept into it by circumstance. Rollo Sanchez and Accalia's laughter threatened to spill from the corners of the hall, but even they paused at the weight of Aysel's presence. She had commanded loyalty and truth from this den of wolves before any Alpha could assert dominance. "Any other wolves present who have yet to speak?" Bastien's eyes were amber, piercing, assessing. "Yes. The younger ones, the retainers-their words cannot convince me," Dennis pressed, climbing the hierarchy through complaint. The young wolves, tails tucked but ears high, regarded the adults warily. Youth may lack strength, but their senses are keener, their eyes sharper. Bastien's features hardened. "Then wait until Rudi and Noah awaken. Let the direct witnesses speak." Before the tense stillness could snap, a calm, commanding male voice cut through the den. At the doorway appeared a tall, clean-featured wolf, pushing up his spectacles with a deliberate motion. "I can confirm their testimony, " Alfie Sanchez said, voice smooth, carrying the authority of an unaligned pack. He paused, amber eyes flicking briefly to Dennis. "It was indeed an act of courage." The hall froze. Alfie, new to the ancestral estate, bore no grudges, no entanglements with either side. His words were pure and carried weight. Dennis clenched his fists, growl deep in his throat. Five branch of the Sanchez bloodline-how had this young wolf caused such turmoil?