Aysel's POV I couldn't get Magnus's words out of my head: "Marry me." They echoed in the quiet of my apartment, heavy and insistent, like the low growl of a wolf in the dark. I didn't know what to make of it-not yet. Part of me wanted to hurl him out of my mind entirely, another part... well, that part shivered at the thought, secret and unspoken. My instincts were torn. Magnus wasn't just any Alpha. He was the Shadowbane Pack's crown jewel, and the scent of him lingered on my skin, even miles away. My paws itched to hunt, to run, to forget the human civility I forced myself to wear like a mask. So, I decided to ignore it. For tonight, at least, I would let the city's pulse run through me, let my wolf side stretch in the neon-lit chaos. Skylar found me without effort. The Frostfang heiress never failed to track me down, and the moment I stepped into the crowded bar, she dragged me to a plush corner booth with that effortless dominance of hers. "You've practically been hibernating in that apartment," she chided, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "If someone didn't know better, they'd think you'd discovered a gold mine under the floorboards." I smirked, sipping from my glass. Gold mine? No. But there was one Alpha who counted for a great deal... though I hadn't told Skylar about Magnus yet. I'd kept my distance this past month, hiding Magnus's movements, avoiding any unnecessary entanglements, using deadlines and "work" as excuses to stay out of the Frostfangs' reach. But here, in this haze of bourbon and bass, I could speak freely. I recounted the past weeks in careful whispers, letting the tremor of excitement show just enough to make Skylar's eyes shine. "Holy hell," she breathed, leaning closer. "So all this time, you've been making moves in secret? Damn, sister, I should have known! Pulling the Shadowbane heir into your orbit? You're going to own the Imperial City one day." I let my fingers trace the rim of my glass, keeping my expression neutral. "I haven't decided yet," I murmured. Her laughter died into seriousness, a rare moment. Skylar's amber gaze bore into me, her voice low but sharp. "Don't go thinking you need to risk yourself over Celestine Ward. I mean it. You can wait for me to wrest control from my father. I'll use Frostfang and Moonvale together-you won't have to claw alone to survive. Magnus may be powerful, but the Shadowbane Pack... it's full of snakes. And him? He's a storm. Ruthless, cunning, and... unpredictable. I've heard whispers-remnants of tragedies in the Sanchez lineage that point straight to him. One day, if he decides you're expendable... you won't just be outfoxed. You'll disappear. No one would even find your scent." Her words struck deeper than any fang or claw could. She had always seen through me. Always had. The memory of how I'd pulled her out when the world turned its back on her-a rogue wolf in a human world-made her protective now, almost painfully so. Skylar wanted me to survive, to be loved and not just used. I allowed myself a faint smile, pressing my head against her shoulder. "Guess that makes me your responsibility, then," I said, letting the secret thrill of it purr through me. "Relax. I'll keep you fed, clothed, and alive," she replied, a smirk tugging at her lips. "My father's inheritance will be ours to split anyway." I laughed, feeling the warmth of our pack-like bond, teasing her. "Your old man might just combust if he hears that." "Good. Let him. Early death, early ascension," she shot back. The laughter and lighthearted trash talk kept the edge of tension at bay... until a voice as cold and sharp as a steel fang sliced through the air. "Well, well. Two of my favorite Moonvale wolves enjoying themselves. Care for a drink?" I stiffened, ears twitching. Knox Draven of Ironhowl Pack. His presence was a growl I couldn't ignore. Ever since Celestine Ward-he swore revenge, he seethed, and I was at the center of his simmering rage. Knox had been humiliated in front of his pack, and I had been the spark, the thorn lodged deep in his pride. He glared at us, trying to mask the fury that radiated like heat from a hearth. Skylar didn't move an inch, and I simply sipped my drink, letting the cold comfort of it ground me. "Your face isn't worth my time," I finally said, my tone clipped. Skylar's grin widened, and I felt her wolfish amusement prickle against my own senses. "I don't drink with bootlickers," she added, tilting her head to mock him.