#Chapter 78: Pack

MAGGIE I crouched just beyond the treeline, the scent of smoke curling around me like a whisper I didn’t want to hear. It clung to my clothes, my skin, the edges of my thoughts. Below, the aftermath of the raid smoldered quietly—embers glowing like dying stars scattered in the dirt, streaks of blood and ash smeared across broken ground. The silence that followed was worse than the chaos. Empty. Final. It hadn’t been a major strike. A backwater pack barely clinging to their territory, their numbers thin, their defenses laughable. There was nothing down there worth spilling blood for. No strategic value. No supplies to resell. No tech. Just a name on someone’s grudge list, probably. Some rogue looking to prove something. Idiots. They’d wasted energy. Burned lives. All for the illusion of strength. I should have stopped it. Should’ve stepped in before it turned into the reckless disaster unraveling below me. But I hadn’t. I’d stayed back. Watching from the shadows like I d