Chapter 78

Chapter 78
Olivia's Point of View

The moment Kael pulls away from his mother, a deep voice cuts through the noise of the medical area.

“Thank you all for coming.”

I turn to see Alpha Callum approaching us. He looks… different from the last time I saw him at a summit. Older, somehow. His hair, normally neat despite all the gray, hangs loose around his face. There is soot on his clothes, a long tear down one sleeve, and exhaustion etched into every line of his posture. But his eyes… they are sharp. Focused. The eyes of a leader who refuses to break.

He clasps Kael’s shoulder first, a gesture full of quiet strength, then turns to the rest of us.

“You all came quickly. Thank you.”

Ripley steps forward. “We are here to help however we can, Alpha.”

Alpha Callum nods his head once, the relief flickering through his expression so fast I almost miss it. “Good. We need every hand.”

His gaze sweeps over us, assessing, organizing, deciding in the way only an alpha can.

“Daxon, Ian,” he says, his voice steady but rough, “head to the east side of the pack grounds. We are clearing debris and salvaging materials from the buildings that collapsed. The two of you have the strength for it.”

They both nod their heads without hesitation and jog off.

“Kael,” he continues, turning to his son, “come with me and your mother. We need you helping coordinate the wolves who can fight. Some families are scattered, your presence will help stabilize morale.”

Kael straightens a little, grateful for something to do. “Of course.”

Alpha Callum’s attention shifts to Liana next.

“Liana, your medical training will be useful. Go to the second tent. They are overrun, and many of the lesser injuries need tending so the senior healers can focus on the critical cases.”

Liana nods her head immediately, worry sharp in her eyes but determination pushing her forward as she heads towards the row of tents.

Then his gaze lands on me.

“Olivia,” he says gently, “I remember your father’s skills in organization and coordination. You inherited that same steadiness. We need hands to help manage supplies, track who needs what, and prevent confusion. Go to the supply station, the wolves there will brief you.”

I nod my head. “Of course, Alpha. I can do that.”

Finally, he turns to Ripley.

“Ripley, you are with me after you drop off your bag. I want the future alpha of Stormfang helping oversee the defensive perimeter. You need to see this firsthand, and they will fight harder with an heir present.”

Ripley dips his head respectfully. “Yes, Alpha.”

Alpha Callum exhales slowly, looking at all of us like he is both grateful and weighed down by how much he must rely on teenagers for help in a moment like this.

“Your support means more than you know,” he says quietly. “Stonehowl is still standing because our allies stand with us.”

He gives one last nod of his head, then turns back towards the heart of the pack grounds, Kael already falling into step beside him.

Ripley looks at me before he goes, his eyes soft but filled with tension.

“Be careful, okay?” he says quietly.

“I will,” I promise.

He squeezes my hand once, warm and grounding, then releases it and follows Alpha Callum.

I watch him go for a moment, then take a steadying breath and turn towards the supply station. The air still smells like smoke, wolves are whispering in shaken voices, and the pack grounds feel like they are holding their breath.

But we are here to help.

And I am ready to do whatever Stonehowl needs.

I make my way across the damaged grounds, stepping around piles of broken wood, shattered furniture, and charred pieces of what used to be homes. Wolves move past me in every direction, some carrying buckets of water, others hauling debris, others helping injured pack members limp towards the medical tents.

The closer I get to the supply station, the more organized the chaos becomes. Tables are set up under a large canopy, the only thing here that is not covered in ash. Boxes of medicine, stacks of blankets, rows of food containers, and neatly arranged tools line the tables. A few exhausted wolves are sorting supplies, moving slower than they probably should after working all night.

I approach one woman, middle-aged, her hair pulled into a tight bun, and her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She is checking inventory on a clipboard, frustration pinching her features every time she scratches something out and rewrites it.

“Hi,” I say gently. “Alpha Callum sent me. I am here to help.”

The woman looks up, blinking as if she is too tired to register what I said. Then her shoulders drop in relief. “Oh thank the Goddess. We need all the help we can get. I am Mara.”

“Olivia,” I reply. “What do you need me to do?”

She hands me a clipboard so fast I almost drop it. “We have supplies coming in from neighboring packs, but our runners are too thin to keep up. Start by helping me sort what is here, separate medical from essentials from tools. After that, organize them by urgency. Healers need the bandages, painkillers, and antiseptic first. Rebuilding crews need gloves and tools. Families need blankets, water, and food.”

The list is long. Overwhelming, honestly. But this is something I can do, something that makes a difference.

“Got it,” I say, rolling my sleeves up. “I will start now.”

Mara gives me a grateful smile before turning to shout instructions to another wolf who looks just as exhausted.

I step behind the tables and begin sorting boxes, opening each one and placing items into the labeled sections. Sweat gathers at my temples almost immediately. The sun is stronger here, the canopy doing little to cool the air. Wolves keep coming, asking questions, dropping off supplies, requesting things for tents or injured family members.

My hands move faster and faster.

Bandages, medical.

Flashlights, tools.

Energy bars, essentials.

I check things off the inventory, update numbers, and try to keep everything organized even as chaos churns around us.

At one point, a young wolf barely older than me runs up, out of breath. “We need more blankets for the south tent! The wind is picking up and the injured are freezing.”

“Take these,” I say, handing him an armful from the stack I just organized. “And if you need more, come back.”

He nods his head and sprints off.

The work does not slow down.

And neither do I.

But even as exhaustion settles into my shoulders, a quiet determination keeps me moving. Helping like this…it feels grounding. Like I am doing something real, something necessary.

After nearly an hour, I pause to catch my breath, stretching out the soreness in my back. I glance around the devastated pack grounds, the damaged buildings, the worried faces, the healers working nonstop.

Stonehowl survived.

But barely.

And as I look towards the tree line, a chill prickles down my spine.

The attack last night wasn’t random.

Nightvein is growing bolder.

And we’re running out of time.