The Alpha’s Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger

Chapter 276 276: What war?

Lyla

I strolled, my barefoot pressing softly into the earth beneath me as I continued through the familiar path.

The morning sun streaked through the dense trees, casting a warm, golden glow that settled over my skin. Each breath I took was heavy, but there was peace in how my chest rose and fell – a calm that had been absent since everything had fallen apart.

Nathan had tortured me until I had no other choice but to take the blood oath.

So now, I still carried the bruises from the torture and had purposely refused to remember anything about it. Instead, I'd think of the future rather than the ordeal I'd had to go through. These days, the forest has become my sanctuary, as it had always been.

But now, it was also my healing ground. Since Nymeris died, the emptiness inside me seemed to grow deeper. The severed bond had left a hollow ache that pulsed every time I tried to reach for her.

She had become my companion, my strength, my other half. Healing myself without Nymeris felt impossible initially, but slowly, I learned I could speed up the healing process with my abilities.

I stared at the bruises on my arms, ugly purple reminders of my torture; they were finally beginning to fade, but the scar in my heart would never heal. I closed my eyes, placed my palm flat on a tall oak tree, and stilled.

The herbs, the trees, the plants—everything that thrived in the earth's embrace responded to my quiet, desperate need, allowing me to draw strength from their energy and mend my battered body.

I stayed like that for a few seconds before I opened my eyes, feeling refreshed. I stared at the purple bruises again, relieved they had vanished entirely. A few more cycles, and I'll be as good as new.

"Thank you," I murmured with a grateful smile, feeling the life around me.

This was the reason I was still fighting. This connection grounded me and reminded me that I was still here, still fighting. Drawing one last breath, I turned and returned to the pack.

to the main Packhouse building. Nathan should be there. He was meeting with a few marksmen this morning, after which we would train. He was

few pack members crossed my path. Their eyes widened before they lowered their gaze and murmured

at the situation room the other day had spread quickly through the pack like wildfire,

wounded many people, so I could understand why they were

their greeting. Let them be afraid. Fear was safer than the

stairs two at a time to change into my training clothes before meeting with Nathan, but just as I rounded the corner,

gently rocking her baby – Logan Junior, in her arms. For several seconds, we stared at each other. I've managed to avoid her and Clarissa since

to pick up little things like my training clothes or something

tired; dark circles shadowed her eyes, but her posture remained regal – befitting her

finally

longer. My gaze flicked to the baby – soft, pink-cheeked, nestled against her shoulder. I forced myself to meet

murmured coolly. "You're

her grip tightened on the baby as she continued staring at me. "I need to speak with

my eyes, crossing my arms, wincing slightly as my bruises protested. "If

shake of her head. "There are … a lot of things I'd rather talk about than discuss

thin line. The urge to turn away and leave was strong, but something in her tone – she sounded strained and exhausted – made me

not to show my exasperation.

glanced around the hallway. "Not here. Come with me." Without waiting for my response, she turned

stars and the moon swayed gently above the crib.

with practised ease, placed the baby in the beautifully crafted wooden cot. She lingered momentarily, gazing at the child before straightening

try anything with the baby present," she said quietly. "You're many things, Lyla, but you're

lips as my eyes hardened. "Don't be too sure about that. What do

used to call me