Third Person's POV By the time the group reached the door of the Second Den, they were collectively stunned into silence. Everyone had assumed Ulric and Ivy were merely fighting-wolves quarreled, tempers flared, dominance clashed. But nothing could have prepared them for this. The chamber looked like the aftermath of a den-raid: overturned furnishings, claw marks raked across the stone walls, scents of blood and ruptured tempers thick in the air. And on the floor, bruised, battered, barely conscious-Ulric and Ivy lay crumpled like two enemies dragged from a battlefield instead of a mated pair sharing a bond. Were they mates? Or sworn enemies? Walking at the back, Magnus lifted a brow at the carnage. A faint, amused glimmer lit his eyes. When he turned his head, he found Aysel standing just ahead of him, her chin tipped up, fox-bright mischief in her Moonvale gaze, her metaphorical tail practically swishing as she winked. Magnus felt his heart lurch-then melt, warm as if soaked in hot spring waters. If not for the irritating number of spectators, he would have hauled his adorable mate-to-be into his arms and kissed her senseless right there. As for Ulric? Please. He wasn't dead. What was the urgency? James of the Darkmoon Pack-face storm-cloud dark-strode forward. His wife and daughter rushed to Ivy, while James planted a hard kick into Ulric's already limp body. "Ulric Sanchez! Didn't expect you still had claws for this!" he snarled, voice vibrating with Alpha fury. Yes, he found Ivy's arrogance intolerable at times-but she was his sister, kin he had protected half a lifetime. She had never once suffered injuries like these. How was any brother supposed to watch this and remain calm? Ulric let out a muffled grunt, pain and weakness numbing his wolf. Magnus didn't flinch, didn't so much as twitch an ear.It was Ulva-widow of Phelan Sanchez-who finally intervened, signaling the servants to restrain James' venting wrath. With practiced hands, they lifted Ulric back into his rune-carved wheelchair. "James, whatever happened between the two of them, only they truly know," Ulva said coolly. "Let's get them treated first." The family healer-an elder wolf-physician-had already been summoned. James shot Ulric a venomous glare. "Check Ivy first." Aysel's lips curled in a mocking arc. Typical. James truly adored his sister. If only he had grown such empathy earlier, when he helped that same sister torment another family's daughter. She squeezed Magnus' hand gently and glanced at him with something like pity. Her poor Alpha. Forever unlucky with these people. Magnus chuckled softly and reached up to smooth a stray wisp of hair from her cheek, touch tender enough to stir a wolf's purr. This intimate gesture landed squarely in the eyes of Olivia-sitting beside Ivy, waiting for the healer to examine her aunt. Her gaze dimmed, displeasure simmering beneath her lash line. She hadn't forgotten-not for a breath-that this Moonvale outsider had exposed Ivy's private scandal in public, humiliating both the Darkmoon and the Shadowbane Packs at the same time. Knowing Ivy's pride, she wouldn't step paw outside her den for weeks. "Magnus," Olivia said sweetly, with a tone dipped in frost, "is it appropriate to have an outsider lingering here while our two packs are dealing with private matters? Miss Vale certainly helped make us all quite... famous today." She spoke as if she and Magnus stood on the same side, as if she had the right. But Magnus didn't give her even a single heartbeat of face. He frowned, coldly, sharply. "We aren't nearly that familiar, Miss Olivia," he said flatly. "I'm Magnus Sanchez. Not yours to claim." Olivia bit her lip hard, color draining from her cheeks.Magnus was already turning away, his expression softening only when he lifted Aysel's hand again. "Perhaps Miss Olivia's hearing isn't very sharp," he said with a pleasant, lethal smile. "Let me reintroduce her properly. This is Aysel Vale-my partner, my intended mate, and the future, one and only Luna of the Shadowbane Pack. If the Darkmoon Pack wishes to discuss cooperation, alliances, or kinship ties, they may consult her. Aysel holds full veto power." The blatant favoritism and public claim were impossible to miss. The scent of territorial devotion hung thick around him-Rafe's wolf aura unmistakable. The Darkmoon father and daughter's faces darkened instantly. "Enough, Olivia. Let's see how your aunt is," Madam Darkmoon murmured, placing a calming hand on her daughter's shoulder. Her smile was strained as she glanced between Aysel and Magnus. "You young wolves..." Her voice trailed off, weighted with implications she didn't dare speak aloud. Aysel tilted her head, expression bright and utterly straightforward. "We young wolves are much better than elders who speak half a sentence and hide the rest-so unclear." She even sighed and shook her head like Madam Darkmoon had. "..." Madam Darkmoon's smile died. Magnus let out a quiet laugh, fingers squeezing Aysel's soft cheek. "Imp." No reprimand. No disapproval. Only indulgence. From the sidelines, Kurt's mate Emma and Rollo Sanchez exchanged glances. Watching the Darkmoon mother and daughter choke on their own passive aggression, they felt... sympathetic. Why antagonize these two? Which part of them looks like wolves who take a beating without biting back? Ulva's eyes flickered thoughtfully toward the Darkmoon couple and Olivia-whose chest rose and fell in anger she struggled to leash. At that moment, Ivy stirred back into consciousness. Seeing the crowd, the familiar faces of her Darkmoon kin, the blurry outlines of the Shadowbane wolves-her already pale face lost all color. Her chest burned where she had been struck, pain radiating through her ribs, but none of it compared to the humiliation of her ruined marriage laid bare before a room full of Alphas and pack elites. Her lips trembled. No sound came out. The healer removed his stethoscope, his expression grave. "I recommend both be taken to the Healing Hall. Their injuries must be examined thoroughly." Tsk. Who knew high-ranked wolves fought this viciously behind closed doors? Every bruise, every injury had been inflicted deliberately in places rarely seen in public-typical of a mated pair trying to hide their fractures from the world. Too many witnesses were present. A full physical check here was impossible-and imaging scans were needed to determine whether their organs had been damaged. But the moment the word hospital was spoken, Ivy stiffened like a wolf hit with ice water. "No!" she gasped. "I'm not going!" If she went, the entire continent would know by sundown. And that, Ivy could not afford.