Third Person's POV The Alpha's arms tightened suddenly around her, the possessive strength of a dominant wolf making Aysel suck in a quiet breath as the pressure turned faintly painful. She laughed softly instead, her fingers patting the powerful muscles of Magnus's back. "I figured it out later," she said gently. "If my entire life was only meant to atone, then I might as well have died when I was six. Or never been born at all. I refused to accept that. I wouldn't let my life be trapped in that cage forever." She had started with dancing. Then with painting. Countless failures. Countless restarts. Her first two decades had been nothing but war against the chains of the Moonvale Pack. And the truth proved one thing-her refusal to give up had saved her. "When I was little, I loved riding on my father's shoulders," she said quietly. "Because no matter what, he would always lift me up. Later, I realized... the only one who can lift me forever is myself." She smiled, rising on her toes to brush a soft kiss against Magnus's lips, wolf-scent and warmth tangling between them. "And now," she added lightly, "there's you too." "Aysel." Magnus called her name in his deep Alpha voice and lifted her in one smooth motion, setting her atop the stone planter again. He turned his back to her, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Coming?" Aysel laughed and climbed onto his back. Once she steadied herself, his hands locked firmly around her thighs. The Shadowbane Alpha's eyes glinted with boyish amusement as he asked, "Ready?" "Mm-hmm!" she nodded seriously. "Charge, Magnus! Faster-faster!" He ran with her through the night, powerful strides devouring the path beneath his boots. The wind swept through their hair, carrying away the remnants of old pain and memory. All that remained in the air was her silver-bell laughter-and his low, magnetic commands telling her to hold on. At the villa gates, a night-shift guard peeked out from his post, eyes wide as he caught sight of the Alpha and his mate tearing through the grounds like wild cubs. He clicked his tongue in awe. "So even high-ranking packs do this kind of plain romance..." Truth be told, Magnus and Aysel were notoriously affectionate even by werewolf standards. Every time they appeared together, their bond was so sweet it was almost blinding. The guard shook his head with a chuckle and lifted his thermos of goji tea. "Young wolves really do burn bright," he sighed. That night, Magnus was extraordinarily gentle. Gentle to the point that Aysel was utterly overwhelmed. She cried, scolded him between breaths, only to hear his teasing voice murmur against her ear, asking if she had finished counting yet. Flustered, she blurted out random numbers. His dark eyes shimmered with wicked amusement. "Wrong count. That means punishment." "You beast, Magnus Sanchez!" "Hush," he coaxed softly. "Be good, my mate." The night drowned in warmth and tangled shadows. Two days later, the consequences of wine and unchecked instinct were simple-neither of them left the villa. Fortunately, the surrounding packs were unusually quiet. Even the ever-restless Darkmoon Pack had made no new moves. No one knew whether they were cowed by Bastien Sanchez's warning-or simply plotting something worse. On the third morning, Magnus lifted the half-asleep Aysel from bed, dressed her personally, brushed her teeth, and carried her all the way down to the dining hall. Sweet rice porridge steamed gently before her. "Come to the Shadowbane offices with me today?" he asked. "No." She pouted. Her lips were still faintly swollen. "I'm not seeing anyone for a while."The aftereffects were far too obvious. Magnus chuckled. "All right." He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her mouth. "I'll come home on time today. What do you want for dinner?" "Hotpot!" Her eyes lit up instantly. He pinched her cheek gently, very aware of her hoarse voice and the poor timing for spicy food-but wisely swallowed the comment. "Wait for me," he said instead, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hold on." Aysel stopped him and straightened his tie with careful fingers. "Work hard, Alpha." "And stop thinking about anything improper," her eyes warned. Magnus laughed. "Yes, my Luna. Any other orders?" "Bring me egg tarts from the shop near your territory." "Done." Breakfast alone took a full hour of lingering goodbyes before the Shadowbane Alpha finally left. When Magnus arrived at headquarters, his Beta, Jackson, all but sighed with relief. Once upon a time, Magnus had practically lived in the office. Now? Punctuality was a disappearing virtue. "Alpha," Jackson reported, handing him a file, "the Redmoon territory project has drawn official attention. An investigation unit has been formed." That project had originally been brought by Lucas of the Darkmoon Pack, using back-channel influence from his elder brother James to suppress competition. They had bitten off more than they could chew. Magnus skimmed the report, cold calculation glinting in his eyes. "Good," he said calmly. "Tell them to slow down." "Wolves only bare their throats when cornered." That project had never truly interested him. The trap had been laid from the beginning.Jackson nodded, then added, "Another matter-the Moonvale Pack. Celestine Ward has stabilized, but relations within the pack appear tense." A glacial smile crossed Magnus's lips. "Let them tear each other apart. Just keep watching." When he remembered Aysel's words-how she once thought of dying-his patience for Moonvale shrank to nothing. They lived only because they had given her life. But the price? They would pay it in full. "Yes, Alpha," Jackson answered quietly.