Chapter 87 Callum POV

Chapter 87 Callum POV
Callum

Kael brings the lead SUV to a stop near the edge of the square, but no one gets out immediately. For a moment, we all look through the windshield at the crowd waiting ahead of us. Elara sits beside me in the back seat, one hand resting over mine. Elowyn is in the front passenger seat beside Kael with her gaze fixed on the families gathered near the canopies. She has been quiet most of the drive.  Families. Elders. Children. Pack members standing in small groups with bags slung over their shoulders and questions written across their faces. Some wait patiently. Others pace. A few linger near the edges watching everything carefully as if they still expect this to disappear the second they get too close. I understand that feeling.

For eighteen years Moonstone existed only as memory. Now they're standing in line waiting to choose it. Elara looks at me before looking back at the crowd. Neither of us says anything. There are moments that become smaller when you try to put them into words. This is one of them. We get out of the SUV looking around at the land that once held our pack. Ahead of us, Kael and Elowyn are already speaking with several settlement leaders while Moonstone warriors help organize the growing crowd. The square wasn't designed for this many people. No one expected this many people and ertainly not this quickly. A child breaks free from his mother's hand and sprints directly across the road. The woman immediately chases after him.

"Micah!" The boy ignores her completely. He stops in front of Elara and I and stares upward. I stare back. His mother catches him a second later and lifts him off the ground with the kind of strength only panic produces. "I'm so sorry." The boy points at me.

"He's huge."

Behind her, Kael coughs suspiciously and Elowyn's shoulders shake. I fight a smile.

"Is something funny, Prince Kael?"

"I didn't say a wordsaid anything," Kael replies and the boy continues staring.

"Are you really Alpha Callum?"

"I am," I reply and his eyes narrow thoughtfully.

"My grandpa said you were scary."

"Your grandfather sounds wise."

The child considers that.

"You don't look that scary to me."

A laugh escapes Elara before she can stop it. Several nearby families laugh too. Just like that, the tension eases. Not completely, but enough. The settlement begins breathing again. The square is already filling faster than anyone anticipated. Pack members arrive from nearby roads and surrounding farms. Questions spread through the crowd. Conversations overlap. Children weave between adults who are trying to discuss decisions that will shape the rest of their lives. It feels strangely familiar. Not because it resembles the last eighteen years, but because it reminds me of Moonstone before everything fell apart. Not the buildings. Not the land. The people. The noise. The life. A voice calls my name. Not Alpha. My name. I turn and for a second I don't recognize him. Time has a cruel habit of changing faces while leaving eyes exactly the same then recognition lands.

"Harold," I say and the old man snorts.

"Took you long enough," he replies and I laugh immediately. Of course those are his first words. Not a greeting. Not some emotional reunion. A complaint. Harold's white hair is pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck and a cane supports one side of his weight, but the sharp look in his eyes tells me age has not improved his patience. Elara smiles.

"Hello to you too, Harold," she says and his expression softens slightly when he looks at her.

"Good to see you're both actually alive."

The words settle heavier than he probably intended and I glance at him.

"You thought we were dead?"

"I thought everyone was dead," he says and the settlement around us seems quieter suddenly. Harold looks toward the crowd before continuing. "The kingdom told us Moonstone was gone. Ashwood said the threat had been dealt with. Everybody had a different story." He shrugs. "None of them made much sense." My jaw tightens and Harold notices. "Then one day a rumor spreads that you all just walked out of a realm in the middle of the sky." A few nearby pack members laugh softly and even Elara smiles.

"I'm sure that was hard to believe," I say and he nods his head.

"Hard to believe is one way to put it," he laughs and his gaze shifts toward Elowyn then toward the registration tables then back to me. "But I suppose seeing is easier than guessing." For a moment, neither of us speaks.Then Harold lifts his cane and points toward the blue canopy. "My family already signed with Moonstone." I follow his gesture toward a younger couple and two teenagers waiting nearby.

"You didn't hesitate."

"No."

The answer comes immediately.

"Why?"

Harold studies the settlement for a second before answering.

"Because I've spent eighteen years watching Ashwood control this land." His eyes return to mine. "And not once did they make it feel like home." The words hit harder than any dramatic speech could have.Harold huffs and taps his cane against the pavement. "Besides, if a pack survives eighteen years trapped in another realm and still comes back for its people, I'm interested in seeing what they do next." For the first time since arriving, I smile.

"Fair enough."

"You're welcome."

That earns a laugh from everyone standing nearby. The realization settles somewhere deep in my chest. The realm stole eighteen years. It stole homes, memories, milestones, and futures. But it did not erase us.The next several hours pass quickly. Families step forward one at a time. Some choose Moonstone immediately. Others choose Elaris. No one is pressured. No one is threatened. No one is treated like a problem to solve. They are simply given a choice. One father wants to know whether joining Moonstone means leaving immediately. Elara explains that no one is being rushed from their home. An elderly couple asks whether choosing Elaris means they can stay near their daughter. Kael answers every question patiently. A young mother spends nearly twenty minutes speaking with Elowyn. I watch from a distance while her little boy sits cross-legged beside them drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick. By the time the conversation ends, the woman is crying and Elowyn hugs her. The child continues drawing. The contrast nearly makes me smile. Life rarely pauses long enough for adults to feel dramatic. Eventually, I notice something else. No one asks about Idris. Not once.

No one asks whether Ashwood is returning. No one asks whether they can stay loyal to him. No one asks how to remain under Ashwood authority. The realization grows heavier every hour. The civilians already made their choice. Not Moonstone. Not Elaris. Their choice is simpler. Their choice is peace. Ashwood is not offering it.

By late afternoon, the line finally begins shrinking. Pack members linger around the square in small groups. Children race across the open field beyond the settlement. Laughter drifts through the air. For the first time since returning from the realm, I find myself imagining what Moonstone might become. Not what it was, but what it could be. A scout appears at the edge of the settlement. One look at his face tells me the day is about to change. I step away from the crowd before he reaches me.

"What is it?"

"Northpoint."

Every instinct sharpens immediately.

"What about it?"

"It's empty."

The words stop me cold.

"Empty?"

"Completely," he says. No hesitation. No uncertainty. Just fact. The scout continues. "We found abandoned supplies. Vehicle tracks. Campfire remains. They left in a hurry."

Not retreat. Movement. I already know it before he says another word.

"Where did they go?"

The scout unfolds a map. His finger taps a point farther east. The ridge. The old watchtower. Of course. I stare down at the location. The tower overlooks half the valley. Anyone controlling it can watch movement through the surrounding settlements for miles. It is the strongest defensive position remaining on Moonstone land. Idris knows that. Silas knows it too. They're gathering what remains of their loyalists. Consolidating. Preparing. The fight is no longer scattered across abandoned camps and stolen settlements. It's narrowing. Focusing. Becoming something easier to find. Behind me, laughter erupts near the square. A group of children are chasing one another between tables while several parents attempt and fail to stop them. The sound carries across the settlement. Bright, alive, and ordinary. I look from them to the map then back again. The difference between the two sides has never felt clearer. One side is trying to build something. The other is trying not to disappear. I fold the map and hand it back to the scout.

"Thank you."

He nods and steps away. I remain where I am for a moment, watching the settlement. Families. Children. Pack members choosing futures instead of battles. Idris and Silas believe the watchtower matters because it overlooks Moonstone land. They're wrong. The land matters. The tower matters. But neither one is the heart of this pack. The people are.

Standing here now, surrounded by families choosing Moonstone after eighteen years of absence, I finally understand something I couldn't see inside the realm. We already reclaimed the part that mattered most. The rest is just making sure Idris and Silas understand it too.