The Alpha's Fated Outcast Rise Of The Moonsinger novel Chapter 303

Lyla

Below us, warriors were rushing toward the northern edge while others formed defensive lines. What I saw next made my blood freeze—warriors who looked exactly like our White Mountain fighters charging into the camp, led by someone who appeared to be Ramsey.

"The foxes," I whispered. "They're drawing them in by pretending to be us."

"A trap within a trap," Kieran confirmed. "Your mate thinks he's attacking Nathan, but he's actually facing illusions while the real threat surrounds him."

My mind whirled with dangerous possibilities. If Ramsey was going to fall into a trap, our original plan was useless. We needed to adapt immediately.

"Change of plans," I announced, turning to my elite warriors "Gather the Ferals. We're going in now."

"But the signal—" Garin and Killian began simultaneously.

"There won't be a signal," I cut him off. "Ramsey's walking into a trap. We need to create a diversion."

I turned back to Kieran. "How do we counter fox magic?"

"Their illusions can fool the eyes, but not scent," he replied. "Your elite warriors with their moonstone weapons can disrupt the magic if they get close enough."

A plan formed in my mind. "We'll split into three groups. Kieran, take half the Ferals and circle east—target any foxes you can identify. Karin and Killian – you will both take your elite warriors straight down the middle—use the moonstones to disrupt their magic. I will take the rest of the Ferals west to find Ramsey."

"Alone?" Garin asked "It's too dangerous."

"I'm a Moonsinger," I reminded him. "And I'm not losing Ramsey to some fox trick."

They didn't argue further. Within minutes, our forces were reorganized and moving into position.

Before we separated, Kieran caught my arm. "Be careful, Moonsinger", he warned. "Fox magic is disorienting. Trust your instincts, not your eyes."

I nodded and signaled to my group of Ferals. They formed a protective circle around me as we descended toward the western edge of the camp.

By the time we reached the perimeter, the whole place was filled with chaos. Warriors fought warriors, many wearing the same colors, making it impossible to tell friend from foe at a glance. The fox illusions were masterful—each fake fighter moved and fought just like the real ones would.

I focused on my connection to the Ferals, using a low hum to direct them forward. They moved as one unit, clearing a path through the confusion. Unlike the regular warriors, visual illusions didn't fool the Ferals—they relied on scent and sound, following my commands perfectly.

We pushed deeper into the camp, searching for any sign of Ramsey or Lenny. The sounds of battle surrounded us—metal clashing against metal, howls of pain and rage, the thud of bodies falling.

Then, through a gap in the fighting, I spotted him—Ramsey, surrounded by what appeared to be his own warriors, yet something was wrong. They weren't protecting him but herding him toward a central tent where a tall figure stood watching.

Nathan.

I changed course immediately, leading my Ferals toward the trap closing around Ramsey. As we drew closer, I began to sing—not the gentle melodies I'd used before, but a battle song. The Ferals responded instantly, moving forward with renewed strength.

My voice cut through the chaos, carrying power that made the fox illusions waver. Several warriors near Ramsey suddenly flickered, their appearances shifting rapidly before settling back into false forms.