Third Person's POV Aysel stepped out of the guest chamber of the Shadowbane Estate with a faint, satisfied smile at the corner of her lips. Her stride was light, almost floating, as she crossed the corridor lined with ancestral totems of the Sanchez bloodline. Far ahead, a pair of terrified house attendants-both low-ranked omegas of the Shadowbane Pack-froze upon seeing her. Their wolf-ears twitched in pure panic. Aysel lifted her hand casually, as if greeting startled pups. "Ulric Sanchez and his consort Ivy just injured each other in a fight," she announced sweetly. "They don't want to see anyone. Give them some time before you go in to clean up. I'll go inform the others." The attendants' eyes went wide. The scent of shock rippled off them like cold mist. Aysel merely hummed and continued toward the banquet hall-steps airy, carefree, almost musical. The Birthday Feast of Bastien Sanchez Inside the grand hall, Bastien Sanchez-Alpha-Emeritus of the Shadowbane Pack-stood in front of a towering ceremonial moon-cake, surrounded by children, grandchildren, and an entire room full of pack dignitaries and allied clans. He was raising the ceremonial blade for the first cut when he glanced around. "Where's that one?" the old Alpha muttered, squinting toward Magnus's usual spot. Magnus, the continent's strongest Alpha, allowed a small, indulgent smile to tug at his lips. The lupine warmth in his eyes softened his otherwise lethal presence. "She went to play," he said. Bastien clicked his tongue. "Hmph. No sense of restraint." Who was it earlier insisting she needed to stay and watch him cut the cake? The girl wasn't even in sight, and yet a strange unease prickled along the old wolf's spine. As if summoned, a ringing voice-bright, crisp, barely contained-echoed from the entrance: "Grandfather!" Every head in the hall turned.Bastien's heart sank a full octave. His hand trembled. The blade he held landed squarely on the decorative calligraphy that read "Blessed Birth." A perfect stroke-and it chopped the character for "Bless" cleanly in half. Before anyone could stop her, Aysel strode in, sounding like an ecstatic nightingale bursting into song. "Something big just happened!" She projected her voice across the hall with the enthusiasm of a herald on festival night. "Magnus's father and his stepmother just started fighting!" A hush exploded into a stunned uproar. Magnus's father and his stepmother? Wasn't that Ulric Sanchez and his wife? Wait-no. His second wife. Aysel's use of the word "stepmother" reminded everyone: Ivy had originally risen to her position by clinging to her lineage and replacing the previous Luna-she had, in fact, been a notorious "second mate." But-Ulric and Ivy? One a frail, refined noblewoman... The other a crippled wolf with a ruined leg... How could they possibly fight? "That's impossible," James from the Darkmoon Pack blurted. He was Ivy's elder brother, and the first to react. Sure, Ivy had a temper, but fighting? In public? At a Shadowbane feast? And Ulric, as pathetic as he was after his injury, still ought to have... wolfish dignity. But the moment the words left his mouth, James regretted them. Because Aysel was clearly waiting for someone to ask.She perked up, looking innocently helpful. "I don't know either," she said, palms up. "I walked in and heard Stepmother Ivy shouting that Uncle Ulric is a useless cripple-bad legs, bad stamina, not a real male wolf-and that she's basically guarded an empty bed for decades." Gasps struck the hall like thrown daggers. Aysel continued, expression pure as moonlight. "And Uncle Ulric was yelling back that she was shameless, venom-hearted, always seducing already-mated wolves-and bullying younger pack members." She clapped her hands lightly. "I tried to stop them, but then-bam-they just started fighting~" Her wide eyes blinked like a startled doe's. The hall collectively seized. What... what did they just hear? Ulric Sanchez-unable to perform as a male wolf? Ivy-living as a widow in all but name? Ivy-who had seduced an already-mated male and replaced another woman to rise in rank? And now the illustrious Shadowbane second pair was clawing each other bloody? Magnus approached Aysel and immediately took her hand-his aura tightening protectively as his wolf swept over her like a shield. He scanned every inch of exposed skin, his expression darkening. "Were you being foolish?" he said quietly, voice low with Alpha warning. "Why would you go near them while they were fighting? What if you were hurt?" The gathered guests: ...Excuse us? "Other wolves"? That was your father and stepmother. And while those two were practically killing each other in the next wing, this Alpha cared only about whether his little mate was scratched? The hall shook with barely-suppressed laughter.The Darkmoon Pack-James included-looked mortified. Their clan's daughter and her husband had publicly brawled at the Shadowbane Alpha-Emeritus's birthday feast. At their age, no less. It was humiliating beyond measure. The old Alpha, Bastien Sanchez, tossed aside the cake-blade entirely. He didn't even bother looking at the ruined cake with its severed blessing. "Go see if they're dead," he growled. The entire hall fell silent. Though everyone would have loved to witness the scene firsthand, etiquette forbade a crowd from invading the Shadowbane inner residence. The banquet was only halfway through. Thus, Ulva, Magnus, Aysel, Derek Sanchez, and the three representatives from the Darkmoon Pack followed proper protocol and went ahead to handle the matter. Ulva and Rollo's mate stole glances at each other and slipped out as well under flimsy excuses. Meanwhile, Bastien plastered on a diplomatic smile for the guests. "Old Ulric has no steadiness even at his age. Sorry you all had to witness this farce." The crowd, well-versed in noble hypocrisy, responded quickly. "Every pack has its troubles. But your grandson-now he's impressive, Elder Bastien." With polite lies exchanged, the hall returned to its festivities. But beneath the surface, the gossip shifted sharply. Many couldn't help recalling the days when Ivy and Ulric caused a sensation throughout the clans-when Ulric still walked proudly and Ivy flaunted their "perfect union," mocking other families for their illegitimate children and loveless marriages. And now? What perfect marriage ended in torn hair and claw marks? Did they love each other so much they clawed each other to pieces? Guests exchanged gleeful looks, careful to avoid Bastien's gaze. Aysel, with one cheerful announcement, had ripped open the glamorous façade Ivy once crafted. After enduring enough small talk, Bastien excused himself to "rest." The moment he was out of sight, his expression darkened; he jabbed his cane into the ground in pure exasperation. These unfilial wolves! And Magnus-the least obedient of them all. Why did he have to fall for that little moon-born menace from the Moonvale Pack? She wasn't even officially mated into the family yet, and he could already feel his lifespan shortening. The old Alpha clutched his forehead, reliving the catastrophic scene, and nearly pinched his nose bridge in pure frustration.