Third Person's POV Magnus tapped his claw against the polished oak table, his dark gaze glinting like cold steel. The faint curve of his lips was enough to make every wolf in the hall straighten. "Enough," the Alpha drawled, voice low, dangerous. "Since everyone's here-let's begin." At his signal, Jackson, his second-in-command, strode forward and ordered servants to bring five carved chairs into the center of the great hall-for the Moonvale Alphas and their kin. It was a cruel gesture, perfectly deliberate. The night's gathering was meant for mingling; wolves roamed the candlelit lawn, exchanging pleasantries and scents beneath the silver moon. Yet now, surrounded by a circle of standing guests, the five seated figures of the Moonvale family looked painfully out of place-like prey displayed for judgment. Even the air thickened with humiliation. Luna Evelyn glanced toward Aysel more than once, her expression caught between guilt and fury. But Aysel sat still beside Magnus, unmoved-calm as a wolf who knew she was no longer prey. Just as Magnus had once let her unleash chaos in the Shadowbane Court, now she let him reign freely here, on Moonvale ground. The tension snapped when Alpha Remus rose from his chair. His jaw clenched, tail twitching once in restraint. "I'll have someone bring out the birthday cake," he said stiffly. Magnus's lips curved again, though there was no warmth in it. "Alpha Remus," his deep voice cut through the murmurs, "perhaps keep the cake meant for your foster daughter's engagement. It'd be a shame to stain it with hypocrisy." A sharp intake of breath rippled through the guests. Remus froze, color rising and fading from his face. Jackson stepped forward with a pleasant smile that reeked of mockery. "No need to trouble yourself, Alpha. The Shadowbane Pack has already prepared everything." At his clap, attendants appeared-pushing gleaming dessert carts across the marble floor. The scent of honey and sugar mingled with the cold metallic tang of dominance in the air. "Wait-" one wolf murmured as more carts appeared, "aren't there... too many?""One, two... seventeen," another counted aloud. The crowd began to whisper. Seventeen cakes encircled the five Moonvale wolves like a ritual ring. Seventeen. The number hit them like a blow. Because the year Yuna Ward fell, Aysel had been six. Three nights ago, when they'd visited the graves, she had turned twenty-three. Seventeen missing birthdays. The flames of seventeen cakes flickered, throwing trembling light over faces once proud, now pale and hollow. For a long moment, Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn said nothing. Their thoughts wandered back to when Aysel was still their cherished pup-the only daughter of Moonvale. Each year, they'd sworn that no matter how far they traveled, they'd return home to celebrate her day under the same moon. And then, they hadn't. Seventeen moons. Seventeen years of silence. They'd called it atonement, but even they knew-their guilt had never fed the child they abandoned. Celestine clenched her fists beside them, her aura flickering. Why bring up this number again? Why dig open a wound long buried? Among the crowd, wolves who knew the Moonvale history began to murmur. "Seventeen..." "Goddess above, the Shadowbane Alpha doesn't just strike the body-he strikes the soul." Some shivered, realizing what Magnus had done. The Moonvale Pack had neglected their true-blood daughter for seventeen years, and tonight he was making them watch as he gave her every lost birthday back. Others whispered darker predictions.If Magnus was showing this much devotion... then perhaps, soon, the entire continent would see a new power shift. The hall fell silent as Magnus approached the first cake, his arm steady around Aysel's waist. His tone softened-a sound few had ever heard from him. "Little birthday wolf," he said, eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to tenderness, "make a wish." Aysel drew a deep breath. Her lashes lowered, hands folded together. In the darkness behind her eyes rose an image of a terrified little girl-locked in a cold cellar for letting her sister fall into the pool, stomach growling, body shaking. She exhaled softly. "Happy birthday, six-year-old Aysel," she whispered. The candle flame died with her breath. When her eyes opened again, a pink gift box sat before her-massive, ribboned, glowing faintly under the lantern light. Magnus's sharp, severe face looked almost gentle tonight. "Happy birthday, Aysel Vale," he said. Inside the box rested a plush white bear, soft and warm. Her eyes lit up, stars caught in amber. "It's adorable," she said sincerely. "I love it." Magnus's satisfaction showed in the faintest twitch of his tail. Her joy was his reward. He led her to the next cake. And the next. Seventeen times, she blew out the candles. Seventeen times, he wished her happy birthday-his deep voice a steady heartbeat in the stunned quiet. No one dared move. No one dared speak. Because everyone understood what this meant. Magnus Sanchez was telling the whole realm who the night-and perhaps the future-belonged to. By the time they reached the last cake, the crowd stood spellbound. Wolves who had once feared the Shadowbane Alpha now looked upon him with awe.Each gift Aysel opened was rarer than the last-some treasures unseen even by the oldest packs. Gasps and murmurs filled the air, yet the only ones who couldn't meet anyone's eyes were the Moonvale Alphas. Every present, every candle, every cheer was another strike against them-seventeen blows of guilt carved into their pride. The positioning in the hall made it even crueler. The outer ring: guests. The middle: Aysel and Magnus, surrounded by seventeen glowing cakes. The inner circle: the Moonvale family-trapped, humiliated, unable to leave. To Remus, even the cakes looked like gravestones. When Aysel finally reached the last one-her twenty-third-she did not close her eyes. Instead, she faced her parents squarely, her hands still clasped as if in prayer. "This time," she said clearly, her voice soft but unyielding, "I wish to open the gift my mother brought me-with my own hands."