The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger. Chapter 379: When everything falls apart

Lyla

When I entered the house, I found Ramsey sitting on the couch, staring down at his hands as if he’d never seen them before. His shoulders were rigid with tension, and I could feel waves of conflicted emotion rolling off him through our mate bond—anger, protectiveness, and sothing that felt like self-loathing.

I paused at the door, my hand still on the handle, not knowing what to do or say or whether to step forward or give him space. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken accusations and the result of my poor choices.

The truth was, I had no excuse. The day Paul had first shown up at our door, both Ramsey and I had agreed that we wouldn’t entertain him anymore. I’d had a choice when he offered a ride from the market, and I’d made the wrong one. There was no justification for getting into that car with him, especially after Ramsey’s warnings about Paul’s behaviour.

"I’m sorry," I said quietly from where I stood. "I bumped into him at the market, and he offered a ride. He was so insistent, and I thought it would be rude not to accept his offer. And I didn’t want to cause a scene."

Ramsey didn’t wait for to finish. He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, eting my gaze with eyes that held more disappointnt than anger.

"I’m going to go pack our bags," he said flatly, rising to his feet. "We’re going ho."

"Ho?" I rushed toward him. "We’ve barely been here for a week. Additionally, we need to resolve the issue with Paul and his car. We can’t just go ho—things don’t work like that in the human world."

"Really?" Ramsey walked closer to , his voice taking on that deadly quiet tone that ant he was holding back what he truly wanted to say. "You intentionally put yourself and my children in danger because you want to remain friends with your colleague? What’s so hard about cutting off people and letting them go? Is it going to take him hurting you before you understand?"

I took a step back. "Paul didn’t an any harm, Ramsey. He’s just—"

"He’s a stalker," Ramsey interrupted firmly. "I told you that from the first ti I saw him. I know how stalkers behave because I’ve experienced it myself. I know the signs. You didn’t listen. You keep giving people the benefit of the doubt, Lyla. One day, it’s going to cost us everything." His jaw clenched. "Look, I don’t want us to fight. I’m not in the mood to fight. We’re going ho, and that’s final."

I studied his face, seeing the exhaustion and worry beneath his anger. "Fine," I nodded reluctantly. "But before we go ho, we must do the right thing. We need to repair Paul’s car and attempt to persuade him not to involve the police or sue us. Then we’ll leave."

Ramsey stared at for several long seconds, then shook his head and walked toward our bedroom without another word.

I let out a long, trembling sigh and headed for the kitchen, needing sothing to calm my nerves. As I reached for the refrigerator handle to get so water, a sharp pain suddenly lanced through my lower stomach.

My body folded forward instinctively. I gasped, pressing one hand to the cold tal of the fridge.

"Oh!" I groaned, doubling over as the pain hit again. My hands flew to my belly this ti, and I leaned heavily against the refrigerator for support, as my breath ca in short gasps.

The pain was unlike anything I’d experienced during this pregnancy—it felt like soone was squeezing my insides with a fist, and radiating outward from deep in my abdon.

I pressed my back against the cool refrigerator door, trying to breathe through the pain while my mind raced. Was this normal? Was sothing wrong with the twins? The agony seed to go on forever, though it was probably only thirty seconds before it began to fade.

Slowly, carefully, I straightened up, one hand still protectively covering my stomach. What had that been? I made a ntal note to call Nanny later and tell her about it. I couldn’t use human doctors for this—werewolf babies didn’t grow like their human counterparts, and any dical examination would raise too many questions.

As soon as I finished drinking a glass of water, the doorbell rang. I walked to the door and opened it to find the tall, winnowy man who had offered to repair Paul’s car.

"All finished," he said with a bright smile, wiping oil-stained hands on an equally dirty rag.

I peered over his shoulder and gasped. True to his word, the car looked as good as new, if not better. There wasn’t a single sign of the damage Ramsey had inflicted. I could see various tools and equipnt scattered near the vehicle, and the man himself was covered in grease stains and slled strongly of motor oil.

"That was fast. I thought it was going to be at it all day?"

"These days, fixing a car is easier than people think," he said with a modest shrug. "Modern manufacturing, you know."

I nodded, still amazed by the transformation. "Would you like to co in for so coffee? It’s the least I can do after you saved us from a very awkward situation."

"That’s very kind of you."

I motioned him to the couch and busied myself making coffee, grateful for the distraction. When I brought him the steaming mug, I reached for my chequebook on the kitchen counter.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked, pen poised to write.

The man turned to with that sa bright smile and laughed. "Nothing at all. Just a referral, if you don’t mind. I just moved to this neighbourhood, and I’m looking to start up a garage business. If you could put in a good word for with the neighbours, that would be paynt enough."

"Of course!" I said enthusiastically. "I’d be happy to recomnd you. Your work is incredible."

"You and your husband seem new, too. Where did you co from before coming here?" my neighbour asked.

"Oh, just here and there," I replied with a slight shrug. "We’ve been travelling for a while. I went back ho, thought so months ago, nearly a year now, after my dad died. t my husband, fell in love, and we’re back here again. Thankfully, I kept the lease."

The man nodded with a smile. "That sounds like a lot of fun. I decided to leave my small village after so many years of telling myself I would leave before the new year. I finally worked up the courage and left. However, it now feels like a bad idea. I had no idea adulthood was so expensive."

I laughed, smiling at the grimace on his face and rembering the first ti I’d tried to move away from Nanny. She’d thrown a tantrum, but I’d insisted I wanted to leave.

As we continued chatting, I began to feel slightly woozy, my head swimming in a way that made grab the kitchen counter for support. The room seed to tilt slightly, and I blinked hard to clear my vision.

The man finished his coffee and brought the empty cup to . "Are you alright?" he asked, studying my face with concern. "You look quite pale."

I straightened up, forcing a laugh that sounded too high and bright. "I’m fine! Just pregnancy fatigue, you know how it is. Pregnant won are always tired."

He nodded understandingly. "Well, I should be going. Thank you for the coffee and the hospitality."

I walked him to the door, but as we reached it, that sharp pain struck my stomach again. This ti it was worse, more intense, and accompanied by a strange cramping sensation that made my knees wobble.

The man turned to say goodbye, then his expression changed completely. His eyes went wide with alarm as he pointed toward my legs.

"You’re bleeding," he said urgently.

I looked down. Dark red blood was trickling down my legs, staining my light-colored pants and pooling on the floor beneath . The sight of it made the room start to swim around , black spots dancing at the edges of my vision.

"What’s happening?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the roaring in my ears.

At that exact mont, a police car pulled up in front of our house, its presence adding another layer of crisis to an already devastating situation.

The man was saying sothing, but his voice sounded as if it were coming from underwater. My legs felt weak and unsteady, and I could feel myself starting to sway.

The twins. Sothing was wrong with my babies.

Through the mate bond, I felt Ramsey’s alarm as he sensed my distress. I heard his footsteps pounding through the house toward us, but everything was becoming hazy and distant.

"Ramsey," I called out weakly, my hand pressed against the wall for support as more blood appeared. "Ramsey, sothing’s wrong."

The police car doors were opening outside, officers stepping onto our sidewalk just as my husband appeared in the hallway behind , his face going white when he saw the blood.

Everything was falling apart at once, and I couldn’t stop any of it.

My children, my marriage, our safety—all of it balanced on a knife’s edge as the human world and our supernatural reality collided in the most dangerous way possible.

And I was bleeding, with no idea if my babies would survive whatever was happening inside .