The Alpha’s Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger

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.

~~~

a mix of devotion and recognition. I turned my attention to the wounded apprentices. Three of them lay on the ground, their white robes were stained with blood and their breathing was shallow and

move them," I instructed the other priestesses who stood nearby, still trembling with fear. "Place them on a raised platform away from

been trying to tear them apart. Now, those

them. "They won't harm you

priestesses moved to help the apprentices. As they carried the wounded to a stone dais beneath a sheltered portico, the Ferals trailed after me,

as Nanny pushed her way through, her eyes wide with disbelief. When

for a

you should worry about. I'm fine

her hands remained on my shoulders

feeling a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do

I'd never called her that before. It felt strange on my tongue, yet somehow right. Nanny's face lit up with a joy

their wolves

toward the wounded girls. "You've healed yourself nicely," she observed. "Have you ever considered becoming a High Priestess? The temple could use someone with your

role

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

them, placing my

hum. It wasn't the same melody I'd used with the Ferals or with the healing tree. This was something different—a sequence of notes that seemed to arise from somewhere deep

mountain spring water. The ethereal fire twisted and coiled in the air, forming intricate patterns before

knees in reverence. I ignored them, focusing entirely on the task at hand. I could feel the

girls' bodies began to close, angry red giving way to pink and then unblemished skin. Color returned to their cheeks, and their breathing deepened and

one, their eyes fluttered open. They looked around in

tears streaming down her face as she approached the dais. "The Goddess is so merciful to me," she

The reverence in her eyes, in all their eyes, felt wrong somehow—a burden I

being dramatic. You're making

giving me an apologetic smile. "You're the