The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger.

Ramsey

My footsteps echoed through the halls of the pack house when I arrived.

My mind was still a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. The scent of death still clung to my clothes – the aftermath of the Feral attack on my pack. So far, fifteen dead, including three children and more than a hundred injured.

The number of dead seemed small, but to me, it was a record of my failure. My father, when he was alive, and even my grandfather, who had served as a regent before I became old enough to take over, had never recorded the number of disasters and deaths I have had so far.

It was as if the universe was against me and was putting it out there as a reminder that it really doesn't care about me. The images of the dead people still haunted me, fueling the rage that simmered just beneath my skin.

But it wasn't the anger that drove me now. It was doubt.

The atmosphere was quiet – as always, the Feral attack would make the streets empty. Even the maids and Omegas on duty were not clustered in groups like they used to laughing and gossiping as usual.

How long would this be my new reality? How long would this fear dwell with us? Taking a deep breath, I veered off the path that led to the building where my office was. So, instead of heading there as I would normally, I started for the main building where I lived.

I took the stairs two at a time, making my way to the South wing where my bedroom was and also where I had put Lyla the other time. When I arrived at my bedroom, I hesitated at the door. My fingers curled into a fist before releasing. I reached for the doorknob and paused.

Since I found out that Lyla went missing or left the pack herself, I haven't slept in my room. The silence was too oppressive and it always felt like I was going crazy.

What was I doing here? What was I hoping to find that I didn't already know? Evidence that Xander had lied? Proof that Lyla hadn't betrayed me for Nathan? Proof that Lenny might be responsible for the death of my Gamma and may have even joined forces with Lyla to leave?

Maybe a part of me still clung to the faint hope that Lyla would be there, waiting to tell me it was all a mistake. That Nathan hadn't taken her. That she hadn't sworn the Blood Oath.

Taking in a deep breath, I turned the door handle and pushed open the door stepping inside.

The room was exactly as Lyla had left it. The bed was made, the curtains drawn back to let in light. Her scent still lingered mixed with the roses growing in a planter by the window. It was fainter now, putting me in a bad mood.

It felt as if she hadn't left without seeking my permission and that she'd only stepped out for a moment. I entered the room fully and closed the door quietly behind me. For a long moment, I just stood in the centre of the room, staring at the bed, the dresser, and the neatly folded blanket on the armchair by the window.

The absence of her presence felt like a worm-festered wound and as much as I didn't want to admit it, the ache was beginning to spread through my chest.

What did it matter? She was gone. She had made her choice. She belonged to Nathan now.

"What are you even doing here, Ramsey?" I murmured to myself. "What were you expecting?"

Minutes went by as I stood motionless, still lost in memories. I couldn't help but think that Lyla never forgave me after everything. I know I hurt her pretty badly in the past but I thought we made peace with that and that she had forgiven me.

The way she had smiled at me before she fell asleep that day after I brought her out of the situation room after her fake quarrel with Lenny. The fierceness in her eyes when she had made me believe I was hurting her. The softness of her lips when we finally settled and kissed and how she begged me not to leave her.

Had it all been a lie? Had she always intended to return to Nathan? Was Lenny in support of this too? I didn't know what to believe again.

Shaking my head, I turned to leave. I'd find no answers here, only more questions to torment me.

But as I turned, something glimmered in the corner of my eyes – something small and bright catching the late afternoon sun through the window. Like a sunbeam reflecting off metal. I paused, looking toward the source. It had come from the bedside table.

Curious, I approached the table and what I saw made my heart stutter in my chest. Resting there, glinting innocently, was a ring. Lyla's engagement ring precisely. The diamond caught the sunlight that was shining directly into the room now sending prismatic reflections dancing across the wall.

For a heartbeat, my mind went blank, then it dawned on me slowly. Reaching for the ring, I picked it up, turning it between my fingers. The tracker was still there and it was the reason I'd been fooled.

I had embedded a tiny device in the ring that allowed me to monitor Lyla's location. While in the meeting, I had believed that Lyla was still here, safely within the pack, because the tracker had said so. She must have known for her to have left it here deliberately.

But more than that – she had mentioned the ring in the background when I was talking with Nathan some hours ago. She had said she would return it. If she had truly taken the blood oath with Nathan, wouldn't she have forgotten about our engagement? Why would she still think or remember to return the ring when she wasn't with it?

The more I thought about it, the less sense it made. Was Lyla trying to pass a message to me? Was there more to her leaving?

My heart pounded painfully in my chest. I wanted to believe it – wanted to believe that she hadn't truly given herself over to Nathan, that there was a chance to save her. But I didn't know if this was desperation or insight.

Still, deep in thought, I slipped the ring into my breast pocket and left the room. My mind was still racing with possibilities, but one thing was becoming clear – I needed more information before I could make my next move.

Maybe another call to understand what was really going on.

As I stepped out of the room, leaning against the opposite was, was Seth. He had a tense expression on his face. My mind immediately strayed to my grandfather at the hospital.

"Is he dead?" I asked quietly.

Seth's expressionless face contorted into confusion. "Huh? Who's dead?"

I guess not. "What do you want? What is it now?"

He bowed his head slightly. "I've been looking for you. Miss Cassidy is here to see you and she's insisting she must else she won't go. She's at the visitor's lounge waiting."

I froze. Cassidy. Here. Now. It was too much of a coincidence after Xander's suggestion that I marry her to activate the White Moon Throne's power. Had he gotten to Cassidy as well just like before? Was this part of some larger manipulation?

For a moment, I considered telling Seth to send her away – I didn't have the patience to hear her out. But something made me pause. Maybe it was better to hear what she had to say, to gauge whether she was part of whatever game Xander was playing.

"Tell her I'll be down shortly." I finally said.

Seth nodded and left. I remained there for a second longer, my mind still reeling, and then I forced myself to move. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed to hear what Cassidy had to say.

~~~

Cassidy was waiting for me, seated primly on one of the leather armchairs, her posture was perfect as always and her hands were folded in her lap. I tried to imagine Lyla keeping that position and it made me smile. Lyla was never the proper and prim queen.

The moment she saw me, she rose to her feet, a bright almost nervous smile lighting up her face. She was beautiful, I had to admit – with her dark hair and delicate features. Once, I had thought I loved her.

"Ramsey," she greeted me warmly. "I hope I'm not interrupting…"

"What are you doing here, Cassidy?" My voice was colder than I had intended, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Her face fell and the smile on her face faded. "I just… I heard about the attacks. I wanted to see if you were alright and I know you must be incredibly busy, especially after the… attack. I'm so sorry about what happened…"

"Why are you sorry?" I retorted coldly.

"Uhm…" she attempted another smile and failed. "If there's anything I can do to help…"

"We're handling it," I said flatly. "And as you can see, not a single scratch on my body. Why are you truly here?"

She fidgeted, her fingers twisting together. "I was worried. And … there's something else." She too a breath, as if bracing herself. "I'm getting married. In a week."