Chapter 162

• Third Person's POV
• Magnus's usual composure wavered, his frustration and longing painting his dark features with rare vulnerability. Aysel laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's not too late," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress against the sharp air of the garden. Though the past had been missed, their future stretched long and untamed, like wolves running across a moonlit forest.
• Magnus's gaze remained fixed on her, predatory yet tender. Sensing the intensity, Aysel instinctively covered her mouth, aware that even in daylight, the garden was far from private. The proximity, the heartbeat pressed against heartbeat, was already a bold claim.