Chapter 291 291: Healing...
Lyla
The scene that greeted me was chaos.
Three young girls in white robes lay sprawled on the ground, blood pooling beneath their still forms. Several more were backed against the temple wall, their faces frozen in terror as Ferals advanced on them.
In the center of the courtyard, Ramsey is fighting desperately against three massive Ferals who surround him. Despite his Lycan strength, he was outnumbered and already wounded, adding to the previous wounds and exhaustion he hadn't healed from. Fresh blood was now streaming down his face and arms.
Without hesitation, I step forward, placing myself between the cowering girls and the advancing Ferals.
As if sensing my presence, every Feral turned towards me simultaneously. What happened next came as a shock even to me, questioning everything I already knew about these creatures—they stopped. Their aggressive posture softened, and their heads tilted in my direction as if they recognized who I was.
"Hey, babies," I say softly. "Long time no see."
The nearest Feral makes a sound halfway between a whine and a growl. They're looking at me with unexpected awareness in their eyes, something beyond the mindless hunger that typically drives them.
Following pure instinct, I began to sing. The melody was different from my healing song—it was darker and resonated with some deep ancestral memory I didn't know I possessed.
The effect is immediate. The eyes of all the Ferals turn from the red glinting eyeballs they were moments ago to black, and they sit back on their haunches, watching me. Their eyes remain fixed on me, transfixed by the sound of my voice. Even the ones attacking Ramsey turn away from him, drawn to me instead.
From the corner of my eyes, I could see Ramsey staring at me in disbelief, his expression shifting from battle-ready to awestruck. The terrified apprentices watched with equal astonishment as the creatures that had been about to tear them apart now sat docile, almost reverent.
As my voice filled the courtyard, the wind picked up again, swirling around us in a miniature cyclone. Leaves and petals dance in its wake, creating a living barrier between the Ferals and the rest of the temple grounds.
In this moment, with the Ferals responding to my call and nature itself amplifying my power, I understand what it truly means to be a Moonsinger. This is more than an ability, more than an inherited responsibility—this was ancient magic, older than packs, older than the division between human and wolf.
I could see the relieved expression on everyone's face. I was their guardian. This is what it means to have power: to help the people and to give them relief. At that moment, I knew what choice I had to make.
And for the first time since losing Nymeris, I felt truly whole.
~~~
to the wounded apprentices. Three of them
still trembling with fear. "Place them on a raised platform away from direct
moments ago, been trying to tear them apart. Now, those same creatures sat docile, watching my every movement
assured them. "They won't harm
help the apprentices. As they carried the wounded to a stone dais beneath a sheltered portico, the Ferals trailed after me, maintaining a respectful distance but clearly unwilling to let me out
through, her eyes wide with disbelief.
was only gone for a minute. What
that you should worry about. I'm
fierce embrace. When she finally released me, her hands remained on my shoulders as she studied my face. "My little girl is all grown up and saving the
spread through my chest that had nothing to do with my
It felt strange on my tongue, yet somehow right. Nanny's face lit up with a joy so pure it made my heart ache
the girls before their wolves die," I said, gently
nicely," she observed. "Have you ever considered becoming a High Priestess? The temple could use
chuckled, "One life-altering role
the dais where the three young women lay. Their faces were ashen, their wounds still seeping blood despite the hasty bandages applied by the priestesses. I could sense the weakening pulse of their wolves, their sacred bond slowly waning
beside them, placing my hands
with the Ferals or with the healing tree. This was something different—a sequence of notes
hot but cool like mountain spring water. The ethereal fire twisted and coiled in the air,
falling to their knees in reverence. I ignored them, focusing entirely on the task at hand. I could feel the blue energy seeking out injuries, mending torn flesh, replenishing lost blood,
they felt like hours. Gradually, the wounds on the girls' bodies began to close, angry red giving way to pink and then unblemished skin. Color returned to their cheeks, and their breathing
their eyes fluttered open. They looked around
Nanny's friend, broke from the crowd, tears streaming down her face as she approached the dais. "The Goddess
her eyes, in all their eyes, felt wrong somehow—a burden I
Nanny said, "Stop being
sniffed back tears, giving me an apologetic smile. "You're the best gift to
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