The Alpha’s Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger

Chapter 292 292: Kill us first...

Nathan

I paced furiously around the war room, trying to suppress the rage building within me every second, threatening to blow at any moment. Five Alphas—the Core Alphas of the South—stood before me in a straight line. Each of them wore a mask of indifference, or should I say doubt.

I could smell their fear – and worse, their doubt.

I couldn't believe that the men I had sent after Lyla let her slip through their fingers, only to discover that, according to the spies, she was at the Moon Temple and had healed properly.

"Incompetence!" I slammed my fist on the large table in the room, scattering maps and markers. "I'm surrounded by absolute incompetence!"

Behind me, a guard knelt, trembling. He was pathetic. His fear-scent fouled the air, making my nostrils flare in disgust.

"I watched from afar," he stammered, eyes fixed on the floor. "She sang strangely, and the Ferals stopped attacking the women."

"Of course they would," I snapped, whirling to face him. "She's a Moonsinger. That's what she does best." Something inside me twisted painfully at the mention of Lyla. That voice was now my constant companion. It was urging more violence, more chaos. "I never wanted her to get healed, at least not until that fool Ramsey was pressured into marrying Cassidy. Now I'm back to square one because I have incompetent fools around me!"

I sighed. "Here, if I don't get things done myself, no one will. Where is Luna Vanessa?" I shouted, looking at the door. I'd been looking for her for over an hour, but she had yet to answer my call.

I need Clarissa.

I've been searching for her for a few days now, but each time I try to contact her, her maid and her mother tell me she's not well and is recovering quietly inside her room.

Clarissa was the only one who could meet me halfway and understand every bit of my intentions. If I didn't make a move within today and tomorrow, Ramsey would regroup and launch an attack on us.

I know this because he has yet to retaliate to any of the fights we've sent to him.

room, bowing in reverence. "She'll be here soon. She's taking care of a lot of her

to dismiss the guard and the one

caged animal. "Didn't I ask you to attack Golden Gates

exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, Alpha Calder of Stone Hill Pack stepped forward.

has a pack with a Moon temple been invaded," he said quietly but firmly. "It is

asked us..." Calder

us," Alpha Renwick of Black River Pack interjected with

me flinched at his words. Had I

us you simply wanted to take power back from White Mountain, to cut us off

always been neutral ground for all wars," Alpha Grant added, his massive frame shifting forward. "They do not participate in wars, neither do they form alliances. And

crossed to the small kitchenette and poured myself whiskey, downing it in one burning swallow before refilling the glass. The alcohol did nothing to quiet the voice, to ease the headache that

finally, turning back to face the Alphas. "Have you forgotten your oath to me? You took the

out his throat. "And that's because we had no choice. We had a duty to protect Lyla Woodland from the Courts of the

what they called Xander? The entity that everyone, even Lyla, had accused of attaching itself to me. In reality, I was not attached to anything. This is me, still the

keep quiet. The Dark One is a common enemy, but you're using his army—the Ferals—to fight now?" He shook his head in disgust. "This is not how things are supposed to work. Believe it or not, I do not

me

me?" I asked, pointing my index finger at my

beside Renwick. Though he was younger than most of the Alphas

stated clearly. "You have to stop this madness. There's still time to make things right. We will apologize to the White Moon Council and receive

inside my head.

afford to fight wars now when the Dark One is lurking," Triston continued. "Perhaps after we take out the Dark One, we can continue our feud with the Lycan Leader. For now, we must be a united front to

I walked back to the kitchenette, lifted the whiskey decanter to my lips, and drank deeply. For a brief, blessed moment, the burn of alcohol drowned out the nagging voice