Aysel's POV "Hey! Aysel! Will you ever come back?" Lykos's voice cut through the wind, young and trembling. But I didn't answer. I didn't even turn around. The forest road swallowed the sound of his voice as our car door closed with a soft thud. Somewhere behind me, I heard a small stone kicked across gravel - a frustrated, lonely sound that hit harder than I wanted to admit. He didn't hate me that much. Maybe he never really did. Then Fenrir's voice rang out, deeper, older, steadier - the kind of tone only a trueborn heir of Moonvale could muster. He ran until he reached the edge of the drive, where Magnus's black car idled like a predator at rest. "Aysel," he called, "no matter what happens, this will always be your home." My chest tightened. Home. But that word had already lost its scent for me. It smelled of judgment, of cages disguised as comfort. Magnus sat beside me, his expression unreadable. I could feel his aura flare, sharp as obsidian, slicing through the night like a warning. To him, the Moonvale Pack was nothing but noise. Playthings, the lot of them. He didn't need to speak for me to feel it through the bond that simmered just beneath the surface of his control-his irritation, his possessiveness, his claim. "They dare try to lure you back?" His voice was low, silk laced with growl. "Your home doesn't come from them." I tore my gaze from the window and focused on the small velvet box in my lap. Inside was the bracelet-the one I'd nearly lost tonight. I opened it again, checked it like a reflex, then shut it tight and exhaled. "I know," I murmured, trying to ease him. "I already have one."He gave a soft, humorless snort, then flicked my forehead. "No ambition at all." Half an hour later, the car stopped. Before me rose a dark manor-vast, silent, and haloed in moonlight. It wasn't just a house. It breathed. The air hummed with pack energy, the scent of pine and wolffire. My claws flexed unconsciously. "You said... this is my birthday gift?" I asked, staring in disbelief. I'd turned twenty-three tonight. The only gift I'd expected was the slim black folder he'd handed me at the gala. I hadn't opened it then. Now I realized that folder had been the deed to this place. Magnus inclined his head, voice casual as ever. "Yes. Your home." He said it like he was offering me a moonstone trinket, not an estate fit for an Alpha. "Wait-you're not just doing this to compete with Fenrir, are you? I do have a home already." Somewhere in the dark, I imagined Fenrir groaning. Maybe I meant a spiritual home, not a literal one! Magnus shot me a sideways glance, a hint of mockery in those wolf-gold eyes. "Do I look that childish?" He folded his arms. "I had this ready before the banquet. Heard your foster sister Celestine Ward got a manor from the Moonvale treasury. You think I'd let my mate have less?" Celestine Ward. The pampered "miracle girl." The one who'd lived the life meant for me. I swallowed, glancing up at the looming structure again. The Shadowbane crest was carved into the gate-three crescents entwined, a mark that meant power owed to no one. This wasn't just a gift. It was a declaration. Still, the weight of it pressed on me. "I heard houses here can't even be bought with gold," I muttered, half to myself. "This is... too much." Magnus arched a brow. "You afraid I'll repossess it one day?" I didn't deny it. He'd given me jewelry at the gala-gifts I fully intended to return. Some of those pieces had been whispered about in the ballroom, worth fortunes. I could still hear Skylar from Frostfang gossiping about the diamonds glowing under lunar blessing. If he ever changed his mind, I'd be ruined trying to repay it all. My thoughts must've been plain on my face, because Magnus's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "You think I'm poor?" I shook my head at once. "Of course not." If he was poor, then the moon itself was a beggar's lamp. His fingers caught my chin, a teasing squeeze that made my wolf bristle and preen all at once. I glared up at him, but that only seemed to amuse him more. Finally, his laughter rumbled low and dark. "Relax. I plan to keep only one mate. Even if you live a thousand years, Aysel Vale, you'll never see the day your Alpha can't afford your birthday gift." The bond between us pulsed faintly-steady, possessive, endless. And somewhere deep in my chest, my wolf lifted her head and howled back.