The Alpha's Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger.

Lenny

"What do you mean?"

I gestured at the chaos surrounding me, even though she couldn't see it. I know we've just talked about it a while ago, but I still needed to talk more.

"I mean, he just packed his bags and left. Didn't even pretend to feel guilty about dumping all of this on me. 'Handle things while I'm gone, Lenny. You know how everything works.' As if running a pack is some casual favour between friends."

"Aw, poor Lenny," Circe cooed mockingly. "Are you feeling unappreciated?"

"I'm feeling like I need a vacation too," I muttered, signing off on a medical supply requisition. "When was the last time I got to just disappear for weeks at a time? Never, that's when."

"Maybe you should find yourself a nice mate," Circe suggested with false innocence. "Someone to share the burden with."

I snorted. "Right. Because that worked out so well for Ramsey, now he can't make a single decision without considering how it affects his precious Luna."

"Lenny Stone, are you jealous of their happiness?"

The question hit closer to home than I cared to admit. "I'm not jealous. I'm practical. Ramsey used to be focused and decisive. Now he's off playing house while the rest of us deal with reality."

"Reality like what? The pack seems to be running fine without him."

I looked around the office again, and she wasn't wrong—things were running smoothly. Maybe too smoothly. The pack members seemed perfectly content to bring their concerns to me instead of waiting for their Alpha's return.

"That's not the point," I said, though I wasn't entirely sure what the point was anymore.

"Lenny," Circe's voice grew gentler. "When's the last time you took a break? Really took one, not just a night out with whatever flavour of the week you're seeing."

I bristled at her tone. "I don't need—"

"How is Maya and the baby? And Jessica's twins? And didn't Carmen have her little pup last month?"

"They're all fine," I said curtly. My four children were thriving, their mothers were happy with our arrangements, and everyone understood the terms. No complications, no messy emotions, no unrealistic expectations.

"And Sarah? How's the newest addition to the Lenny Stone fan club?"

"Sarah's not pregnant," I said automatically, then caught myself. "And she's not part of any fan club. We have an understanding."

"An understanding," Circe repeated slowly. "Right. And what understanding is that exactly?"

I knew where this was going. Circe had been pushing the mate bond narrative for years, convinced that somewhere out there was a woman destined to 'complete' me. The same romantic nonsense that had turned my best friend into a lovesick fool.

"The understanding that we both enjoy each other's company without needing to complicate things with fairy tale promises," I said firmly. "Not everyone needs to find their 'one true love,' Circe. Some of us are perfectly happy with variety."

"Perfectly happy," she mused. "Is that what you call it?"

Before I could respond to her needling, my mind drifted to the real reason I kept things casual. My father had been a romantic, too, once upon a time. He'd believed in true love and forever promises right up until the day my mother walked out on us both. I was twelve when she decided that mate bonds weren't as binding as everyone claimed, that she'd rather chase her dreams than raise her son.

I'd watched my father crumble and watched him drink himself into an early grave, waiting for a woman who was never coming back. He'd died still believing she might return, still keeping her side of the bed empty just in case.

That wasn't going to be me. I controlled my happiness, made my own rules, and kept my heart safely locked away where no one could use it against me.

"Lenny? You still there?"

"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about supply chains." The lie came easily. "Look, I should probably get back to this. These contracts won't review themselves."

"Alright, but promise me you'll get some rest. And maybe consider taking a night off? I know Maya mentioned wanting to have dinner this week."

"Maybe," I said, though we both knew I probably wouldn't. Maya had been getting too comfortable lately, asking too many questions about when I'd be around and hinting at wanting more from our arrangement. It might be time to step back before she gets ideas about permanence.

"Okay, I'll let you go. Tell Ramsey I said hello when you talk to him next. And that he owes me twenty dollars—I bet him he wouldn't last a week in the human world without embarrassing himself."

"Will do."

"Love you, stepbrother."

"You too, Circe."

And then I paused, just before she ended the call. "They'll be fine, Circe. One bad dream doesn't mean anything. It could be a reaction to the war we fought and nothing more. They'll be fine."

I heard her sigh. "I know, I'm just worried because I didn't have an interpretation of it. I'll be happier if they return home. It's safer than the human world."

"Don't worry, they'll be fine. Now, I've got to go."

I ended the call and leaned back in the chair, looking around Ramsey's office with fresh eyes. The space reflected the man perfectly—organised but warm, authoritative but approachable. Photos of the pack adorned the walls, alongside certificates and awards that testified to years of dedicated leadership.

My own office, located down the hall, was purely functional. No personal touches, no sentimental decorations. Just the tools I needed to do my job efficiently.

Maybe that said something about the kind of man I was. Practical. Focused. Uncommitted to anything that couldn't be filed away in a folder.

I was reaching for the following stack of documents when the office door burst open without so much as a knock. Seth stumbled in, panting, his eyes wide.

"Seth?" I half-rose from the chair, immediately alert. In all the years I'd known him, I'd never seen him so rattled. "What's wrong?"

"Beta Lenny," he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "You need to come see this. Right now."

The urgency in his voice sent ice through my veins. "See what? What happened?"

"I can't—" He shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "I can't explain it. You have to see it for yourself."

I was already moving around the desk, abandoning the paperwork that had seemed so important moments before. "Is the pack under attack? Are there casualties?"

"No, nothing like that. It's..." Seth looked directly at me, and I saw something I'd never seen in his eyes before: fear. "It's something impossible."