356 Head Babysitter Of An Entire War Camp

The news had obviously spread quickly because by the time the first light touched the castle walls, the courtyard was already a blur of new arrivals.

Trucks and buses rumbled through the gates, unloading soldiers, crates of weapons, and additional medical gear along with non perishable goods that they may have to fall back on if they were unable to get hold of supplies.

Men and women spilled out of the camps and the trucks with tired faces and stiff backs, out into the open air that was now filled with the sound of shouting, the slap of boots, and the grind of metal against stone.

Ann hadn't slept. There was no chance, not with voices carrying through the halls all night. Demands found her wherever she went with nobles pressing for guarantees that their families would be safe, officers begging for more equipment, and staff warning that rations wouldn't stretch if they kept taking refugees. Every single problem that cropped up slid across her desk when Adam wasn't there. If Lexi and Allen and Greyson were here…

She shook her head fiercely, refusing to think about what things would be like right now with them here. She had to make sure that when they did return, everything was in order.

She cornered nobles in the council room before dawn, forcing signatures out of them with clipped replies.

"You've got three warehouses sitting full while half the camp is running on scraps. Open them up."

One man adjusted his cufflink like the gesture might buy him time. "Those shipments are earmarked for my district. If we hand them over…"

"They'll rot before you move them. Soldiers are already running short. Unlock the doors, or I will."

Another noble leaned forward, voice sharp.

"Our people will riot if they think you're stripping them for strangers."

"They'll riot faster if the border collapses and those twisted things walk into their homes. Pick which riot you want."

The room went quiet. They signed, stiff and pale, passing the papers across the table with hands that trembled just enough to betray them. She left them muttering behind her, their voices sour but subdued.

By midmorning, she was pulled into the training grounds. The shouting was louder here, harsher, full of anger and frequent cursing.

A group of refugee wolves, thin, scarred, hollow-eyed, were squared off against Dark Moon soldiers. Lycans lingered at the edge, watching and she could feel the tension in the air as soon as she came close.

One refugee shoved a soldier in the chest hard enough to knock him back a step.

"You think you're better than us? You had fucking walls. We bled out there while you sat safe and did nothing to help us."

The soldier's jaw tightened, but he didn't hit back.

Another refugee lunged but a Lycan caught him by the shoulder and shoved him back. Not a physical strike, just restraint.

The refusal to fight only enraged them further. The shouting doubled,and curses flew freely, sharp and ugly.

Ann's voice cut across it.

"That's enough."

The noise dropped and dozens of eyes swung toward her as she strode across the dirt.

"You want to fight? Fine. But if you spill blood here, it won't be theirs you're answering for. It will be mine. Save it for the bastards who put you here. Not each other."

The soldiers eased back. The Lycans lowered their arms. The refugees glared, but they held.

"Well done," Maeve muttered. "Head babysitter of an entire war camp."

Ann ignored her and stood firm until the last of the refugees backed off.

It didn't hold for long.

By afternoon, another flare-up. Two boys brawling near the barracks, fists flying clumsy and wild.

A woman spitting at a Lycan and daring him to respond.

A line of refugees refusing to wait for rations, shouting about being shoved to the back again. Each time, someone dragged Ann in, and each time, her word was the only thing that ended it.

"Get them food now," she told the staff at the kitchens. "If the nobles ask, tell them I overruled it. They already hate me, so nothing changes."

When she passed through the yard, Dark Moon warriors dipped their heads slightly in acknowledgment. Refugees stared, their faces twisted with suspicion, but they didn't throw another punch while she was in sight.

That night, Adam returned from the border, face lined with exhaustion. Reinforcements followed him through the gates, another convoy of trucks and men. He didn't pause to sleep, didn't pause to eat, just disappeared into a war room crowded with maps and officers.

"You want me to keep playing referee?" Ann asked when she caught him in the corridor.

"Until they remember who leads them," he said.

"They know exactly who leads them. They just don't like it."

The next morning, the worst clash yet happened. Refugees blocked off a training field, shouting at the Lycans who waited to use it. The Lycans stood still, arms crossed, silent. Their restraint only stoked the anger.

Ann forced her way into the middle before it broke. Her throat ached from raising her voice all day, but she pushed it louder.

"This isn't your personal stage. Training fields are for soldiers, not grudges. Step aside or step up. If you're going to start fights here outside of sparring, then you'll answer to me."

The stand-off stretched a little longer with each side throwing glares but nothing more.

A refugee spat at the dirt and turned away first. The others followed, muttering under their breath. The Lycans filed onto the field, calm, unreadable.

Ann stayed on the edge of the yard until drills began again. Swords clashed, bodies collided, the rhythm harsh and steady. Every strike carried a little too much weight, but at least the blows were directed at practice dummies instead of each other.

By the time she left, the whispers had already started. She's the reason no one's killing each other. She's the one holding it together.

That night, she heard the same whispers inside the palace halls. Servants repeated them while pretending not to look at her. Guards at their posts straightened when she passed and Ann realized, not for the first time, that every step she took was under watch, not just for what she did but for whether she went back on her word.

"And there it is," Maeve snickered. "You're running the show already with determination, improvisation and sheer fucking luck."

Ann snorted as she braced both hands on the railing that overlooked the grounds.

"At least it's holding together," she sighed as she rubbed her belly and looked over the chaos below as drills ran late into the night.

"Honestly, if we can't do it, then I'm fairly sure no one else can," Maeve yawned sleepily, "I'm telling you though, if our pups behave like this, I'm letting our wonderful mate take them into the woods to run their energy off."

Ann chuckled as she tilted her head back and enjoyed a brief moment of respite from the constant demands.

She stood there long enough for her back to ache and her legs to go numb, and long enough for every fighter below to know that she was still watching.