The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger.-Chapter 298 - 36 hours before the war...

Lyla

I gripped the training staff tight and ducked just in time as the Elite warrior lunged at me with a clean strike that was both powerful and fast. Too fast for a regular warrior, but I wasn't fighting regulars.

I moved through the combat routine with fluid precision, my body perfectly synced with the twenty warriors surrounding me. These weren't ordinary fighters—they were the Moonsingers' Guard, an elite unit specially trained to channel and amplify my abilities on the battlefield.

These warriors were trained specifically to fight with a Moonsinger. Timing, rhythm, and motion were the most important factors—they moved in sync with my energy. Rather than following orders, they responded to my instincts.

"Focus on the resonance," I called out, my voice carrying across the training field. "Feel the vibration in your core."

I twisted and slammed my elbow into the ribs of the warrior in front of me. His name was Garin. He grunted as he hit the ground. Sweat poured from us, steam rising in the cold morning air.

"Again," I said.

The warriors of twenty divided themselves into two equal groups, ten warriors in each group.

Ten of them came forward, forming a tight circle around me. We sparred in rotation—quick, brutal exchanges. No downtime. No comfort. This wasn't training for endurance – it was training for survival.

My voice couldn't be used inside an insulated battlefield, so we worked with eye signals, energy syncing, and pressure points. They had learned how to read my movements, shift when I shifted, and become my extension.

This was Ramsey's greatest gift to me. Because he knew that if there ever was a war, he might be too distracted to protect me. He worried that I might get entranced into my moonsinging – even though that has never happened, he didn't want to take chances. So, he created shields for me.

When I finished training with the ten warriors and entered the middle of the battle, each of them held a special crystal dagger that hummed in response to my singing. These weapons, crafted from rare moonstone, were designed primarily to conduct the energy of my voice directly into battle.

I started singing the battle song with a low hum that gradually built into a melodic pattern. The crystals in their daggers glowed brighter with each note. This was the most critical part of our training—synchronizing their movements to the fluctuations in my voice.

"Now!" I commanded, hitting a high, sharp note.

The warriors moved as one, slashing their daggers through the air in perfect unison. Energy rippled from the blades, creating a wave of force that knocked over the training dummies fifty feet away.

This same energy could knock down at least one hundred Ferals fifty feet away and give the non-elite warrior the advantage of fighting them before they regained enough energy to rise.

"Better," I said, nodding with approval. "But we need more precision. The timing between my peak note and your strike was off by half a second."

Killian, the lead warrior, wiped sweat from his brow. "It's difficult to predict exactly when your voice will crest, Moonsinger."

"That's why we practice," I replied. "In battle, that half-second could mean life or death."

We continued for another hour, repeating patterns until the warriors could anticipate the peaks and valleys of my singing with instinctive accuracy. By the end, even I was exhausted, my throat raw from sustaining the powerful notes and my muscles ached from sparring.

"That's enough for today," I announced, watching with satisfaction as the crystals dimmed to their normal state. "Do not practice after this; remember, we must conserve energy for unexpected events. We cannot go into the battlefield drained."

I turned to Garin. He was the head warrior of the other ten. "Take your men to the healers; they'll know what to do with you lot. Just tell them you came from me."

Garin nodded. He and the other warriors left the training ground together. I noticed Killian remained behind. He was Ramsey's distant cousin from his maternal side.

Killian approached me, offering a respectful bow. "We're improving, but not fast enough. Nathan's forces will be here tomorrow."

"I know," I said grimly. "But remember—you twenty are only part of our strategy. The ritual tonight will give us additional fighters."

"The Ferals," he said, his expression skeptical. "Can you really control them in battle?"

"I guess we'll find out," I replied, not wanting to admit my doubts.

A maid approached me with a bottle of water as Killian and his warriors dispersed to rest before their next training session. I accepted it gratefully, gulping down the cool liquid to soothe my throat.

"The rituals are always hardest on your voice," the maid observed. "Perhaps some honey tea before tonight's ceremony?"

"That would be perfect," I agreed, starting toward the pack house.

It had been 36 hours since scouts first spotted Nathan's armies heading for White Mountain. Since then, we'd been in constant preparation—training fighters, strengthening defenses, and planning strategies. Tonight's ritual with the Ferals would be our most desperate gamble yet.

I needed to get cleaned up before meeting Nanny, who would be coming with priestesses and Sigma female fighters from the Moon Temple. I needed to teach them to fight with me, like Garin and Killian's men. I couldn't afford hesitation or wasted motion if we were forced into a battle suddenly. We had to be seamless.

Everyone needed to train together to maximize our effectiveness in battle. That was the challenge with supernatural powers—they required careful coordination to be effective. You have to use them right—or risk killing your allies.

I tossed the empty water bottle into a bin and headed toward the garage where my car was parked. I was too tired to walk the few kilometres back to the pack house.

I was just about to open the car door when I felt it—a flicker in the air. I stood still for a moment, wondering what that sound could be.

"Lyla!" Lenny's voice roared like a cannon before I could blink. His body slammed into mine, pushing me from my car with such force that it sent us both crashing to the ground.

BOOM.

A second later, a deafening explosion rocked the air. Heat washed over us as my car erupted into flames and shrapnel.

The explosion tore through the air, hurling fire and metal skyward. My ears rang painfully as Lenny rolled off me and instantly used his hand to cover my head. I heard him groan out in pain as a few of the debris brushed against my skin. I even felt the ground vibrating.

When it stopped raining debris, I raised my head; my car was gone. What replaced it was twisted metal and debris where it once stood.

Lenny's held me up, still shielding me from the burning flames coming from the car. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, scanning my body for injuries.

People were screaming around us. I saw Warriors running towards the scene, holding a fire extinguisher hose. Dust and smoke filled the air, and my ears were still ringing.

"You're hurt?" I pointed to Lenny's bleeding hands. His jacket was torn at the back, and some parts seemed to have melted in the fire.

"Don't worry about me, Lyla. I'll be healed in a few minutes, but you wouldn't. I'm fine, thought just singed." He looked at the crater with clenched fists. "That blast was meant for you."

"No kidding," I muttered. I was too disoriented to think at the moment. "But how did you know? A second later…" I trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

"Miriam and the priestess from the Moon Temple arrived earlier than expected. I wanted to inform you. You may not know this, but Beta Lycans, like a typical Beta Wolf, can pick up the tiniest of sounds, and I've been in many battles to know what an IED sounds like."

"I thought it was a bomb," I laughed awkwardly.

"Nah! A bomb and many people would have died. Someone must have rigged your car. Are your ears still ringing?" he asked, covering them with both hands.

"A bit!" I let out that stupid laugh again.

He didn't say anything; he held me closer to himself, covered my ears with his hands, and then told me to inhale deeply. Some warriors secured the area, driving back other pack members who came to see.

I kept thinking of the wreckage, wondering who would want me dead so badly. I couldn't have survived that, no matter what.

Ramsey appeared out of nowhere; he had a murderous expression as he approached us.

Lenny immediately slinkered away.

"I'm fine," I called out, smiling at him. "Not even a scratch on my body. You should thank Lenny for that…"

The rest of the words were squashed on his chest as he pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly.

I didn't die from the explosion, but if Ramsey didn't let go of me any time soon, I might really die.