The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger. - Chapter 330

Chapter 330: Unexpected News
I paced my room like a prisoner counting steps.

Each step was filled with anxiety as I wondered if we could make it through this war without Lyla discovering the truth. The weight of the truth – Mother Liora’s last words pressed down on me as the day went by, making each breath feel like a struggle.

One hand clutched my robe tight around my chest, and the other was pressed against my temple like it could hold my thoughts together. But they were spilling anyway—memories, guilt, dread—all of it.

It has been calm and quiet for nearly a week now, but the clouds of war were gathering, and for all my ability to see, I didn’t know if this was the final war or if there was more. Nothing was clear these days.

What if we didn’t survive this? What will happen if Lyla never knew? Would our armies be able to fight the Dark Forces?”

My stomach twisted, and I hated myself for thinking it, but some part of me wanted the truth buried forever. It was safer that way, simpler, and kinder.

The door opened without a knock. Only one person would enter my bedroom with such familiarity.

“Have you told Lyla yet?” Terra asked, her tone making it clear this wasn’t a question but an accusation.

“Good morning, Terra. Did you sleep well?” I tried to smile.

“We won’t have that luxury to greet each other in the future if the right thing is not done, Miriam. Have you told her?” she repeated again.

I resumed my pacing, avoiding her gaze. “This isn’t the right time.”

“And when exactly will be the right time, Miriam?” Terra closed the door firmly behind her. “After the Dark One has returned with a new host? After more lives are lost?”

“Maybe we’re overthinking this thing.”

“Don’t do that.” Terra’s voice cut like a blade. “Don’t give me one more excuse, Miriam. You’ve had days, weeks, months, and years. You grew up with this girl. Did you need Mother Liora to say it before you’d believe it?”

“You think I don’t know that?” I snapped, turning to face her. “You think this doesn’t bother me every second I look at her?”

“Then why haven’t you said anything?”

“She just killed Nathan,” I snapped. “Her childhood friend. Do you think now is the appropriate moment to burden her further?”

I resumed by pacing.

Terra moved to block my path, forcing me to stop. “Nathan’s death is precisely why she needs to know. The cycle will continue if she doesn’t understand her full role in this.”

“It’s not like I can just break it to her like that…” I murmured again.

“Then should I do you the favour?”

“No!” I snapped. “It’s between me and her.”

“For Moon’s sake, Miriam. What is the problem? What is holding you back? The Miriam I know would not hesitate to carry out a duty, no matter how difficult it is. What’s changed?”

“Because she’s barely holding on!” I shouted. “Because Nathan’s dead, Terra! Gone. Whatever twisted thing he became at the end, he was still the boy she grew up with. The boy she trusted. You didn’t see the way she looked at him on the day he was buried – like something in her broke. And now you want me to throw another storm at her?”

Terra folded her arms. “We don’t have the luxury of protecting her anymore.”

“I will never tire of protecting her. She’s my child,” I insisted, stepping around Terra to resume my pacing.

“You’re protecting yourself,” Terra countered, her voice was filled with frustration. “You’re afraid of how she’ll react when she learns you’ve kept this from her all these years.”

I spun to face her. “Don’t presume to know my motivations! I’ve carried this burden since before she was born!”

“And now it’s her burden to carry, whether you like it or not.” Terra’s eyes flashed with rare anger. “She’s not a child anymore, Miriam.”

“She’ll hate me,” I whispered, finally voicing my deepest fear.

“Perhaps,” Terra acknowledged. “But she’ll hate you more if she discovers the truth too late, when lives could have been saved by her knowing sooner.”

I sank onto the edge of my bed, suddenly exhausted. “You don’t understand what it’s like. Watching your child walk toward danger, powerless to stop it.”

“No, I don’t, I’ve never been pregnant. I’ve never loved a man, but I know what it means to want to protect something you love so much,” Terra agreed, her tone softening slightly. “But I do understand duty. As do you.”

“She’s pregnant.”

Terra rolled her eyes. “So?”

“So, she needs time. She needs peace. Just for a moment. Her babies inside her…”

“The babies are growing inside her,” Terra interrupted with a hint of exasperation. “There’s no peace for someone like her. Lyla would never know peace as long as the Dark One exists.”

I turned away from her, swallowing the knot of emotions that had formed in my throat. “You’re cruel.”

“I’m honest,” Terra retorted. “And you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared for me!” I spun around, my voice shaking. “I’m scared for her. She’s trying hard to carry all of this—fighting, leading, training—while pretending she isn’t grieving or afraid. You want me to… add more?”

“Nathan’s death shook her, I agree,” Terra nodded. “But she doesn’t blame herself for it. Lyla is not what you think she is. Despite how disorganised she may seem, she is different, possesses a high level of intelligence, and knows Nathan’s death is not her fault. She knows she had to deliver the killing blow and that it was mercy, not murder.”

“This is too much for her, Terra. She barely sleeps. Barely eats. It’s not good for her in her condition.”

“If this secret comes out wrong, it would break her more. Yes, she needs to slow down, but with or without the babies, the fates of the world rest on her shoulders.”

“That’s not fair,” I cried. “She didn’t ask for any of this. Not the responsibility and certainly not the pregnancy!”

“Fair?” Terra laughed without humour. “Was it fair when your mother had to make the same choice? By sending away her one-year-old, knowing she would never see her again? The burden of the Moonsinger has never been fair, Miriam.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” I retorted.

“No one’s asking you to like it. To accept it.” Terra crossed to the window and leaned against it. “Tell her the truth. All of it. About her heritage, the prophecy’s true meaning, Xander’s real intention and the memory you erased during the ritual with Xander…”

“Don’t even go there!” I shook my head. “She cannot know that. It will kill her!”

“About what’s required to end the Dark One permanently,” Terra finished, acting as if I didn’t say anything. “Then kill her once and for all, Miriam. Surprised, The Dark One hasn’t spilled that secret yet but he would. He will do anything to get her to his side, and when he’s done using hosts, he will do what he knows how to do best. What he did with Neriah… not the nonsense written in those history books. You know what truly happened.”

“Fine, after the war or after she’d had time to heal from Nathan’s death.”

“There might not be an after!” Terra exploded, slamming her hand on my dresser. “Don’t you understand? The Dark One is already seeking a new host. Every day you delay puts us all at greater risk!”

“Don’t you dare lecture me about risk!” I shouted back. “I’ve sacrificed everything for this cause! The love of my life, my relationship with my daughter, my entire life!”

“And it will all be for nothing if she goes into the final battle without full knowledge of her powers! And the absolute truth”

We glared at each other, I could feel our disagreement overshadowing momentarily years of friendship.

“She’s pregnant with twins, Terra,” I said finally, my voice breaking. “Do you know how rare and precious that is for our kind? How dangerous? Her body is already fighting to sustain the pregnancy.”

“I know,” Terra’s voice gentled. “I’ve been monitoring her. But babies or no babies, she’s still the Moonsinger. The prophecy doesn’t make exceptions for motherhood.”

I turned away, struggling to maintain my composure. “I just want to protect her. Is that so wrong?”

“No,” Terra answered softly. “But sometimes protection means preparing someone to face danger, not shielding them from it.”

We fell into silence, the afternoon light casting long shadows across the floor. Outside, warriors drilled in preparation for the coming battle, their voices drifting up like a distant reminder of what was at stake.

“Tell me honestly,” I said eventually. “Do you think she’ll forgive me? For keeping this from her all these years?”

“Ask yourself if you would forgive anyone who does that to you. The girl is as stubborn as you and spoiled. It’s difficult to tell what’s always in her mind.”

“C’mon, Terra,” I groaned.

“Fine,” she said after a few more seconds. “Lyla has a good heart. She’ll be angry, yes. Hurt, certainly. But forgiveness? That will depend on you—on whether you finally treat her as the woman she is, not the child you wish to protect.”

I had kept Lyla at arm’s length for most of her life, playing the role of Nanny rather than mother to shield her from her destiny. Now that destiny had found her anyway, and my deception might have made her less prepared to face it.