Chapter 70

Chapter 70
Ripley's Point of View

The call ends, and the screen goes black. For a long moment, neither of us moves. The quiet hum of the laptop fan fills the silence, soft but sharp in the stillness of the room. Olivia’s shoulders rise and fall slowly, her gaze fixed on the screen like she is still seeing her father’s face there.

I exhale and lean back a little in the chair, running a hand through my hair. My chest still feels tight. Talking to Alpha Mason always brings this strange mix of respect and pressure. He is calm, commanding, everything my own father expects me to be, and that comparison always digs deeper than I want to admit.

But right now, it is not about that. It is about Olivia.

She closes the laptop and looks up at me. There is a faint crease between her brows, that thoughtful kind of frown she gets when she is trying to hold herself steady.

“He is right,” I say softly. “We will stay alert. Whatever is going on, we will handle it.”

Olivia stares out the window as she says. “I hate this,” she says quietly. “Always waiting for the next thing to happen. Never knowing when it will stop.”

I shift off the chair and sit beside her on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips slightly under our combined weight. I rest my hand gently over hers.
“It will stop,” I tell her, even if I am not sure. “We will make sure it does.”

Her fingers curl around mine, and the tension in her shoulders eases a little. “Do you really think so?”

“I have to.” I give a small smile. “Otherwise, what is the point of all this training? Of all the times we have been tested?”

She laughs softly, a tired, almost disbelieving sound, and leans her head against my shoulder. “You always know what to say to make it sound simple.”

“It’s not simple,” I admit, tilting my head slightly so it rests against hers. “But I meant what I said to your dad. I will keep you safe, Olivia. No matter what comes next.”

She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, her expression softening in that way that makes everything else fade for a second, the worry, the threats, the shadows at the edge of our lives.
“I know you will,” she says, her voice low and certain.

The air feels heavier now, quieter. Her hand is still in mine, warm and steady. For a heartbeat, I think about the night of our first picnic, the kiss under the stars, the quiet promise that started forming between us. It feels like we are standing on the edge of something bigger again, not chaos this time, but something more fragile.

Olivia gives me a faint smile. “You should probably get some rest. You look as tired as I feel.”

I chuckle under my breath. “Yeah, maybe.” But I do not move yet. I let my thumb trace slow, absent circles against her hand. “Will you be okay tonight?”

She nods her head. “Yeah. I think I just needed to talk about it.”

I finally stand, hesitating by the door. “If you need anything… even if it is the middle of the night,”

“I will know where to find you,” she says, finishing the sentence for me, her tone soft but sure.

That pulls another smile from me, small, but real. “Goodnight, Liv.”

“Goodnight, Rip.”

As I step out into the hallway, I glance back once. She is still sitting there on the bed, watching me with that quiet, thoughtful look. I do not say anything else, I just give her a nod before closing the door gently behind me.

And as I walk back to my dorm, I can still feel the warmth of her hand in mine, steadying something inside me that has been uncertain for a long time.

The dorm halls are quiet when I get back. Most students are already in their rooms, their doors shut, and lights dimmed. My boots make soft sounds against the tile, the kind of sound that feels louder than it should in the silence.

When I open my door, I find Daxon stretched out on his bed, tossing a small ball in the air and catching it lazily. He looks up as soon as I walk in.
“Finally,” he says, sitting up and dropping the ball beside him. “I was starting to think you were spending the night over there.”

I roll my eyes and toss my jacket onto the chair by the desk. “Funny.”

He smirks. “I was not trying to be. Just accurate.”

I shake my head, a tired half smile tugging at my mouth. “We had to talk to Alpha Mason, so we video called him.”

That gets his attention. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, the teasing gone from his face. “About what happened at the lake?”

“Yeah.” I sit on my bed, resting my arms on my thighs. “We told him what we saw, or did not see, I guess. There was someone out there, Dax. Watching us. We could feel it, but by the time we reached the spot, they were gone.”

Daxon frowns, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Do you think it was Nightvein?”

“I don’t know.” I glance towards the window, out into the dark. “Maybe. Or maybe it is someone here keeping tabs for them.”

The words hang heavy in the air between us. I hate saying them out loud.

Daxon exhales slowly, his voice quieter now. “If that is true, we have got a bigger problem than just one spy on the border. It means they are closer than we thought.”

I nod my head. “Exactly. That is why Alpha Mason wants us to stay alert. He is sending word to the others too, the rest of the alphas will probably step up security at their packs. But he did not say much beyond that.”

Daxon studies me for a moment. “You are worried.”

“Yeah,” I admit, my voice low. “Olivia’s trying to play it calm, but I can tell she is shaken. We both are.”

He nods his head once, leaning back against his bed frame. “We will watch each other’s backs. We always have.”

That gets a small smile out of me. “Yeah. I know.”

The room goes quiet again, but it is comfortable this time. I start to untie my boots, kicking them off to the side. My thoughts drift back to Olivia, her hand in mine, her steady voice when she told her dad what happened, the quiet strength in her eyes even when she was afraid.

Daxon breaks the silence after a moment. “You think this will get worse before it gets better?”

I sigh. “It usually does.”

He grunts. “Great.”

I glance at him, smirking a little. “Are you still in?”

“Always,” he says without hesitation. “You are stuck with me, Alpha.”

The word “Alpha” still feels heavy, not in a bad way, but like a weight I am still learning to balance. I nod my head, meaning it when I say, “Good.”

He flicks off the light a few minutes later, and the room sinks into shadows. I lie back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind keeps circling back to that feeling from the lake, that cold prickle of being watched.

Whoever it was… they were close. Too close.

And as sleep finally drags me under, the last thought that crosses my mind is a promise, one I have made silently more times than I can count.
I will not let anything happen to her.