The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger.-Chapter 296: The New Order II

Ramsey

"A war council," I replied. "Comprised of those who actually fight, not those who only talk. Warriors, healers, strategists, people who are in touch with reality and not people who sit in their glass houses all day drinking wine. People chosen for their skills, not their bloodlines."

I turned to Lenny. "Prepare a list of candidates. Include representatives from the refugee packs—they know Nathan's strategies better than anyone."

"Yes, Alpha," Lenny replied, already making notes.

"This is not acceptable," Elder Silva protested weakly. "The council has existed since the founding of the White Mountain Region. It is the oldest union of this world."

"And now it's gone," I said. "You're all dismissed."

"So, you will deny us of our rights to participate in the affairs of our packs and this region for mere sentiments, Alpha Ramsey?" Elder Silva said.

"Yes!" I nodded. "Tell me, when was the last time the council advised me on anything that turned out good? Even after changing the previous council members with you all, I needed to surround myself with people I thought were good, but you are as bad as the previous council members."

"That's not true, Alpha..."

"This conversation is over," I interrupted him. "Leave, please... all of you. I don't want to be tempted to lock you all in the dungeons."

They filed out slowly, some glaring, others too shocked to show any emotion. When only my grandfather, Darius, and Lenny remained, I sank back into my chair.

"That was quite a performance," my grandfather said, his lips twitching.

"Not a performance," I corrected. "A long overdue change."

"Lyla's influence?" he asked shrewdly.

I considered the question. Was it her influence? Certainly, loving her had changed me, made me bolder, and made me less willing to compromise on what mattered. But this decision had been building for years.

"Partly," I admitted. "But mostly it's because I'm tired of half-measures. Nathan—or whatever he's become—won't hesitate. Neither can we."

Darius nodded approvingly. "The pack will follow you. The warriors already do."

"What about White Lake?" Lenny asked. "That was a serious threat you made."

"One I intend to keep," I said. "Send the message today. They have forty-eight hours to respond."

"And if they refuse?" my grandfather asked.

I met his gaze steadily. "Then I will send troops myself. I know Elder Thorne is sulking because I refused to marry his daughter again when I've made it clear that I have a fated mate. I don't intend to marry anyone else."

The three of them exchanged glances, clearly surprised by my aggression. I'd always been the diplomatic Lycan Leader who sought compromise. But that Ramsey couldn't win this war.

"Be careful, son; We cannot burn bridges at this critical moment. Warriors from the White Lake pack are the finest breeds of Warriors to ever exist, and Thorne knows this. Maybe he wants to be cuddled and begged…"

"Do I look like I'm in the mood to cuddle anyone who isn't Lyla?" I interrupted my grandfather. "He's your friend. You had best talk to him; otherwise, he'll pay with his blood this time. Every pack in the White Mountain Region belongs to me. I own their warriors, too; I should not be begging and cuddling to have my warriors come fight for me."

The place crackled with tension until Gamma Darius broke it.

"What about Lyla's ritual with the captured Ferals?" Darius asked. "Is she making progress?"

"She's been working with them daily," I replied. "The ritual is set for the full moon, three nights from now."

"Do you really think she can transform them back?" Lenny asked skeptically. "These aren't ordinary Ferals. They've killed dozens, maybe hundreds. The more a Feral kills, the more feral it becomes."

"Lyla discovered that singing to them isn't enough for these advanced cases," I explained. "They need a complete ritual under the full moon. If it works, we'll have three hundred and fifty former Ferals fighting on our side."

"And if it fails?" my grandfather asked quietly.

I didn't answer immediately. We all knew the risk. If Lyla's control over the Ferals slipped during the ritual, we'd have three hundred and fifty bloodthirsty monsters loose within our walls.

"It won't fail," I said with more confidence than I felt. "I trust her."

"Love can blind a man most times, Ramsey, and it is good that you're in love. However, you still need to retain…"

"Grandpa!" I stopped him, raising my hand. "I don't want to hear it. I am not in the mood to hear you yapping about my mate. I've seen Lyla in action. She's powerful. Before she even had all her powers, she's always had that aura about her. Can we trust her for once?"

"What if the White Moon Throne doesn't accept her?" he complained again. "You and Cassidy would have been the perfect match. A werewolf has never sat on the White Moon Throne."

"My mother was a werewolf…" I said coldly.

"There was no reason for your parents to unlock the power of the White Moon Throne, and the only reason your father ruled was mainly my merit. He wasn't chosen like you by the White Moon Throne."

"There's nothing you'll say or do that can change my mind, Grandpa," I said quietly. "You might as well save your breath."

He looked at me for a few minutes and then sighed. "Fine. But why aren't you getting joined with her yet?" he asked, staring at me pointedly. "It's been nearly a fortnight since you came back with her. What is the delay? Is it until the Dark One is on our necks?"

In reality, Lyla has been avoiding any marriage talks. She would either smile and tell me there was no hurry or change the topic. I wasn't doubtful about her feelings towards me. I couldn't understand why she didn't want marriage.

As I opened my mouth to reply, a knock at the door interrupted us. A young warrior entered; he looked tense.

"Alpha Ramsey," he said, "scouts have returned from the border. Nathan's forces are on the move. They'll reach White Mountain in three days."

The full moon. The same night as Lyla's ritual.

I exchanged glances with the others, seeing my own thoughts reflected in their eyes. This was no coincidence.

"Prepare the packs," I ordered. "All of them. It's time we showed Nathan exactly what we're capable of."

As the others hurried to carry my commands, I remained at the window, watching the sun sink toward the horizon. Three days until the battle that would decide everything.

Three days to become the Lycan Leader my people needed—ruthless, decisive, uncompromising.

Three days to prepare for war.