Aysel's POV The morning chaos hadn't rattled me in the slightest. Daron had been at my side, the battle-hound's growls and snaps a familiar rhythm in my veins. The world moved around me, and I moved within it, untouched, unshaken. But when Magnus returned that evening, he took the time to lay everything out clearly. His voice was calm, yet sharp with the weight of a pack Alpha. He told me about his mother's old friend. She had been a prodigy in dance, her talents rivaling the mastery his mother held over the cello. Both had been celebrated as twin queens of their art. When Magnus's mother had retreated into near-seclusion after her own hardships, her friend had tried repeatedly to reach her, to persuade her in vain. When Raya's parents died, bedridden with grief, Magnus's father Ulric had shirked responsibility. Raya's friend had orchestrated the funeral entirely, guiding and managing every detail. Magnus paused, letting the weight of the history settle. "Agnes is her niece," he said. "My mother's friend devoted her life to dance, never married, and raised Agnes as her own daughter. I've seen Agnes only a handful of times, years ago. The notion of a childhood betrothal? Entirely her imagination-she mistook familial closeness for entanglement. Her aunt is a venerable elder, but she has never influenced a decision I've made." As for Daron, Magnus shrugged. "I don't even know when she tried sneaking near him. Her visit was orchestrated-someone at the Sanchez house pushed her forward. They assumed, given Giovanna's history with me, that she would receive special treatment here. But she never crossed my mind." I didn't doubt a word. Magnus exuded certainty, and a packmate who carries such unshakable assurance is a fortress in themselves. The Sanchez family, in their cowardice, couldn't challenge Magnus directly-they sent in a feeble pawn instead. And unsurprisingly, Agnes's strength evaporated the moment she encountered Daron. She hadn't stood a chance. I hadn't even raised my voice that morning, yet our understanding had deepened. A subtle nod, a glance, a shared rhythm of calm dominance-it bound us tighter. "Your mother's friend's full name?" I asked. "Giovanna," Magnus replied. My eyes widened. I knew the name. My past brushed against it like the faint scent of a forest I'd walked years ago. Magnus caught my reaction. "You know her?"I nodded. "If it weren't for an accident long ago, I might have become her apprentice." Before painting, I had been a dancer. Giovanna was the apex of the nation's dance-untouchable, admired by every aspirant. I had trained under her guidance briefly. She had even hinted at taking me as a final disciple, the chosen among several candidates, including Celestine. To be fair, she had planned a public audition to select one of us as her heir in dance. But fate had intervened. My injured foot, though healed enough for everyday life, could no longer endure the grueling demands of professional dance. I had stepped away, leaving the audition-and my future as a dancer-behind. I remembered that the year Giovanna made her choice, she ended up selecting no one. Even Celestine, once the most promising, had been crushed, requiring a trip to the Maldives to soothe her disappointment. And now, years later, hearing Giovanna's name stirred something unfamiliar in my chest-a ghost of a path I never walked. Magnus's hand closed around mine, grounding me. "So, in the original course of things, you and I might have met long ago." I allowed myself a small smile. "It seems that way." I could hardly imagine what we might have been if the threads of time had allowed it. Magnus's lips curved slightly. "One day, I'll introduce you to Giovanna. But first, we have someone to return a message to-a gift for the unseen hand meddling in our affairs." He hadn't yet traced the root of the Sanchez schemers, but their impatience had revealed them before he even had to plan retaliation. Their foolishness saved him time-and spared me unnecessary interference. He looked at me then, gaze sharp. "Afraid?" I shook my head, a low chuckle rumbling in my chest. "I think I'm starting to get used to clearing the chaos out of the way."