Third Person's POV When the wolves disembarked, Celestine looped her arm possessively through Damon's. She halted directly in front of Aysel. "Damon and I are getting mated," she announced, her chin lifted, the scent of triumph sharp in the air. Damon felt a wave of discomfort ripple through his wolf. Every instinct urged him to retreat, yet his gaze betrayed him, lingering on Aysel's eyes, hoping-against reason-to see even a flicker of turmoil. There was none. Aysel's expression remained serene, her silver-gray eyes calm as still water under a full moon. The tail of her brow lifted slightly, her voice light, almost teasing. "What? Do you want me to bring a gift?" The memory of the "gifts" Aysel had delivered before-at her private performance and at Luna Evelyn's birthday feast-flashed through Celestine's mind. Her face fell instantly. She had meant to provoke Aysel. Instead, unease crept up her spine, her wolf shifting restlessly beneath her skin. Celestine tightened her grip on Damon's arm, stopping him from speaking. Her smile stiffened. "No need. We're just informing you." Aysel smiled back, unbothered. They might not want it-but she very much wanted to give one. That gift, whether they liked it or not, would be received. Elsewhere, Magnus stood facing his elder brother, Derek Sanchez. Magnus's gaze sharpened as it caught on a thin, fresh cut across Derek's hand. Derek followed his line of sight, lifting his hand with a faint smile. "Something happened last night, didn't it? I got this protecting my dance partner in the crowd. That blackout-felt less like a celebration surprise and more like a hunt gone wrong." Magnus's eyes were cold. "Whether it was or wasn't, Brother... you already know the answer."Derek nodded slowly. "I just wanted to say-if you ever need help, you can call on me. We're still of the same blood. The same den." Magnus met his gaze in silence. Derek chuckled, shaking his head with a hint of self-mockery. "Right. I forgot. Alpha Magnus has always torn through obstacles others couldn't even approach. I worried for nothing." He turned away with easy grace, waving a hand over his shoulder. "When you have time, come back and see Grandfather." Magnus watched him walk off, offering no reply. After interrogating the captured rogues, Jackson and Kian reported the truth they had extracted: the abductors had first seized Olivia of the Darkmoon Pack, who had been alone in her quarters. Under pressure, she had pointed them toward Aysel, guiding their eyes to her scent in the dance pit, intending for Aysel to be dragged away in the chaos. Olivia had nearly been crushed by Magnus's grip that night. She had always despised Aysel. Her actions followed a clear, ugly logic-and she admitted it herself. Everything made sense. But did logic equal truth? Magnus let out a cold, humorless laugh. He had never trusted coincidence. And he would never place Aysel's safety in the jaws of "possibility." Serena and her younger brother Zane were the last to leave the ship. Once the pier cleared, Serena exhaled sharply, the tension finally spilling out of her shoulders. The moment her boots hit solid ground, the yacht company's director-the same man who had once tried to lure her into investing-approached with an oily grin. "Miss Serena, did you enjoy yourself? About the second-phase investment-" His sentence ended abruptly.Serena's heel slammed into his chest, her kick fueled by a furious surge of wolfish strength. He flew backward nearly two meters, crashing into the ground. "Invest? Invest your ass," she snapped. "Go bankrupt." She stormed off, fury crackling around her like sparks. Behind her, Zane shrank his neck instinctively, casting the fallen man a look of genuine pity. You should've run while you had the chance. Why provoke her? Despite Serena's desire to tear the yacht apart plank by plank, Aysel herself had enjoyed the trip. She truly had. Magnus, however, vanished into constant motion the moment they disembarked-Alpha business, shadows moving where she couldn't see. Two days later, with the weekend finally bringing a rare lull, Magnus stayed home with Aysel. That peace was broken by an uninvited presence. Ulric Sanchez froze at the doorway. He stared in disbelief at the sight before him: Magnus Sanchez-his ruthless, ice-blooded son-on the floor, spinning a childishly simple top with Aysel, while a massive black Daron, watched eagerly, tail swishing. Even the servant pushing Ulric's wheelchair nearly lost control, the wheels skidding dangerously. Who would believe that the Shadowbane Alpha-the wolf others couldn't even meet eye to eye-was playing something even five-year-old cubs had outgrown? The servant stole a glance at Aysel, who shot him a sharp, territorial glare. Was the Alpha Magnus spoiling his mate... or raising a pup? Ulric was the one truly shaken. In his memory, Magnus had never looked like this. As a child, Magnus had been withdrawn, shadowed. After ten, when he followed Bastien Sanchez, he became distant, cold. Later still, he grew into a blade-merciless, opposing Ulric at every turn. This scene-mate, wolf, warmth-stabbed painfully at Ulric's chest. Had their family ever known such a moment?Ulric's fingers tightened around the wheelchair armrests. Magnus rose slowly, his expression icing over. "Ulric Sanchez. What brings you here?" Ulric dismissed the servants. His lips parted, the words he had prepared suddenly heavy. Yet the image he'd seen at the Darkmoon Pack estate hardened his resolve. "You hate me. You hate Ivy. That's fair," Ulric said hoarsely. "But can you spare Olivia? She's young. She doesn't understand." The words came out softer than he'd ever spoken to his son. After the incident, Olivia had been sent back to the Darkmoon Pack. The girl who had left bright-eyed returned broken-screaming at the sight of others, unable to speak, hiding alone in her room. Healers found no physical wounds, only terror clawing deep into her mind, as if she had witnessed something no wolf should ever see. No one could make her speak. Her mother claimed Olivia had gone to that yacht to find Magnus-that her collapse must be tied to him. And so Ulric came. Raya was dead. Ivy had lost her womb. Ulric had never sought another heir. Magnus, his only son, was now his enemy. Olivia-niece to Ivy-had filled that empty space, sweet, obedient, calling him Uncle with a smile. Seeing her shattered had stirred something human in him. Ulric no longer wished to fight. He only wanted the hatred to end with him. Magnus's lips curled into a mocking smile. How novel. The first time this father bowed his head... was for another woman's child. The silence grew suffocating. Then- Before Magnus could answer, a whip sliced through the air with the force of a raging gale, cracking toward Ulric with thunderous, wolf-born fury.