The Alpha's Fated Outcast Rise Of The Moonsinger novel Chapter 319

Lyla

Ramsey stared at me for a few seconds. The news of Lenny finally waking up was certainly the last thing he was expecting to hear.

"A-Are you sure?" he asked with a whisper. "The healer said he wasn't responding to any treatment and we should prepare for the worst."

"Well," I shrugged, "Good thing you have me. I know how much Lenny means to you – sometimes I wonder if you love him more than me. Bottom line, I was able to heal him – it was a nasty poison, but I took care of it. He's fine and resting now."

He stared at me again as if his brain was still processing my words. "Lenny is… healed?"

"Yes," I confirmed again, still a tad surprised at what I'd done. "The poison is gone. He's resting now, but he'll make a full recovery."

For a moment, Ramsey didn't move or speak, and then he scoffed, lowering his head until it was almost touching my lap.

"I thought—" His voice broke. He ran a hand over his face, trying to hide the sudden wave of emotion that passed through him. "I thought I was going to lose him. The healers said there was nothing more they could do."

I reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "He's going to be okay, Ramsey."

"You don't understand," he said, rising to his feet. "These past few days have been…"

He turned away, giving me his back. I could see his shoulders were tight with tension. I waited patiently, giving him the space to collect himself.

"I almost lost you both on the same day," he finally said, still facing away from me. "The two people I care about most in this world, and I couldn't protect either of you."

When he turned back, the controlled, powerful Lycan Leader was gone. In his place stood just Ramsey—vulnerable, exhausted, and fighting tears.

"I've been sitting beside his bed every night, when the healers go to rest, and after I leave your room too," he confessed. "I watched him getting weaker, Lyla, knowing it was my fault. That knife was meant for me. He took it; he was protecting me. I'm not such a great friend to him. We don't agree on so many things yet, but he willingly put himself in harm's way to save me."

A tear escaped, sliding down his cheek, and he made no move to wipe it away.

"And you," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I saw Cassidy's knife in your chest... I've never felt so helpless. So fucking useless."

More tears followed the first, and he didn't try to hide them. I'd never seen Ramsey cry this way—not when he was wounded in battle, not when we lost warriors, not even when he spoke of his parents' deaths. He'd always maintained the strength our world needed.

"If you had died—if either of you had died—I wouldn't have forgiven myself." His words came out with a painful sound. "I'm supposed to protect the people I love, and I failed. Completely. Everyone was right, my grandfather, the people, Nathan, that fucking Dark One…"

"Don't, Ramsey," I tried to intervene.

"I am weak!" he sniffed back tears, laughing humorlessly. "I'm 28 years old, Lyla. I spent the better part of my life making the wrong decisions, fighting battles I simply could have avoided if I didn't let my damn emotions get into the way."

He ran his hand through his hair again. "My father was a better Lycan Leader. He kept our world at peace and made all the werewolves submissive under the rule of the White Moon Throne. No one dared cross him; his only flaw was his weird interests," he scoffed. "He preferred men. Constantly clashed with my grandfather, who wanted perfection…"

He shook his head as if to dispel the direction of his thoughts. "I don't blame you for anything, Lyla. I wouldn't want me for anyone, either."

I stood and walked to him, wrapping my arms around him. For a moment, he remained stiff, still fighting for control. Then he broke, pulling me against him and burying his face in my hair as his body shook with silent sobs.

"You are not a failure, Ramsey. You didn't fail," I whispered. "We're both still here. We're all still here."

His arms tightened around me. "When they told me about the poison, that there was no cure... I've never felt so powerless. I've been making war plans, giving orders, and pretending I knew what to do, but inside, I was falling apart. I couldn't save him. I couldn't save you. What kind of Lycan Leader does that make me? What kind of mate? What kind of friend?"

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, to place my hand on his tear-streaked face. "The kind who feels. The kind who cares so deeply it hurts. That's what makes you the Lycan Leader we all follow, Ramsey. That's what makes you the man I love."

He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. "I was so afraid," he admitted in a whisper. "I'm still afraid. There's so much at stake now—you, our world, our packs. I can't lose any of you, especially to that evil…"

The vulnerability in his voice, the naked emotion on his face—this was a side of Ramsey few ever saw. The weight of leadership, the constant pressure to be strong for others, had built walls around his heart that only collapsed in moments like this.