Aysel's POV It was past one in the morning. Since finishing our meal, I hadn't left this room. Magnus... he seemed determined to reclaim every lost night, to make up for all the time we'd been apart. The darkness twisted everything out of order. The bath, the window ledge, the sofa, the dressing table... I couldn't bear to look. Even the large bed, damp and wrinkled, was too much to face. Even the finest feast, when eaten to excess, leaves the belly swollen. My heart throbbed-not from hunger, but from something deeper. I was crying. I whimpered and pushed him, nudged him, even kicked him lightly... but the moment I lifted, I froze. Magnus... his presence, raw and unrestrained, radiated like a wolf's predatory aura. He chuckled low, and immediately pressed back to me, nuzzling my shoulder, licking softly where my teeth had left traces from trembling lips. "Be still, little one. Open yourself to me," he murmured, his voice a deep, rumbling echo that sent shivers along my spine.... The next evening, I woke groggy, my senses still tingling. My gaze swept the room-I was in the guest chamber. Right. During the later hours, Magnus had moved me; the main den offered no space for rest. I shivered recalling how he had looked then-wild, untamed, and indulgently arrogant. Damp hair, eyes sharp and gleaming, he had teased me with that dangerous grin of his. He wasn't just my culinary wolf-servant... he could be so much more. The thought made my cheeks burn even now. At one point, I'd hung onto him, facing him directly. Each step he took, the weight of his wolfish power pressed into me. I could still feel the scratch along his shoulder from my own frantic clawing. I clutched the arm that had pinned me like iron, sitting upright to inspect the carpet from door to bed. "Relax," Magnus rumbled, noticing my tension. A chuckle vibrated from his chest. "I've cleaned up." I let my body collapse back onto the bed, limbs slack. "Sleepy... hrumph... you're impossible," I mumbled. He only smiled, lips curved with a mock-innocence I knew was lies. "Wasn't it you who said you didn't want to leave me all night?" ... I buried myself in the blankets, remembering. That morning... Our days and nights had completely inverted. By evening, we rose, washed, and ate. Magnus handed me a file, his hand brushing my hair with a faint trace of concern. "Yuna Ward's death... it wasn't an accident," he said softly. Six months prior, she had discovered her terminal illness. After that, her envy of my happiness with the Moonvale Pack transformed into an obsessive, almost unnatural fondness. Even Luna Evelyn noticed the shift and thought her sister had softened after a divorce. The sisters' bond had never been closer-until... the plan was executed. Yuna Ward had chosen my birthday as the most memorable moment to strike. She had months of life left, yet she sacrificed it for her daughter. A driver was bribed-his son gravely ill, desperate for money. Every step had been orchestrated, down to exploiting Luna Evelyn's guilt and Alpha Remus's obsession with honor and reputation. I... had simply been the unlucky one she selected. Fenrir and Lykos were more fortunate, their birthright and age shielding them from such a fate. The judgments of cruelty, pettiness, and selfishness that had shadowed my name now seemed painfully ironic. Luna Evelyn had judged correctly-her sister was sharper, more ruthless, more daring... and terrifyingly willing to sacrifice everything for her own ends. And I... I had survived, yet carried the weight of all she had set in motion.