The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 101

Chapter 101

Alaric

Sage’s hands shake slightly as she helps me strap on my armor, her fingers lingering over my heart. Through our bond, I feel her terror warring with determination to be strong.

“Stay with me,” I catch her trembling hands in mine. “Just for a moment.”

“I should be going with you.” Her violet eyes shine with unshed tears. “My healing-”

“Will be needed here.” I cup her face, memorizing every detail. “The wounded will need you. The pack will need you.”

“The pack needs its king.” Her voice breaks slightly. “I need-”

“Promise me,” I cut her off, unable to hear what she needs because it might break my resolve. “Promise me you’ll take care of them, no matter what happens. That you’ll be their healer, their strength…”

“Don’t.” She grabs my armor, pulling me closer. “Don’t talk like you’re not coming back.”

“Sweetling.” I press my forehead to hers, breathing in her scent of honeysuckle and rain. “Promise me.”

Through our bond, I feel her understanding of what I’m really asking. To be the pack’s heart if I fall. To lead them with the strength I’ve watched grow in her.

“I promise,” she whispers. “But you have to promise too. Promise you’ll fight to come back to me.”

Instead of answering, I kiss her with everything I can’t say. Pour all my love, my pride, my faith in her into that

one moment.

“Garrett.” I turn to my Beta, my brother in all but blood. “You know what to do.”

He nods grimly. “I’ll protect them with my life.”

“Not your life,” I correct. “Your strength. They’ll need that more.

More howls split the night – closer now. The mutant wolves approach our borders in formations that shouldn’t be possible.

“I have to go.” I start to pull away, but Sage’s grip tightens.

“I love you,” she says fiercely. “Remember that. No matter what happens, remember that.”

One last kiss, one last breath of her scent, then I force myself to turn away. Warriors await their king.

The battle hits like a storm breaking. Mutant wolves pour over our borders – twisted, wrong things that move with terrifying coordination. Their attacks target key defenders first, just as my father predicted.

I lose myself in the rhythm of combat, my lycan form tearing through corrupted flesh. But these creatures don’t die easily. Each wound seems to make them stronger, their mutations adapting even as we fight.

Three of them circle me, moving with unnatural synchronization. The first lunges for my throat while another

Chapter 101

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goes for my legs. I leap over the low attack, twisting in mid–air to catch the throat–striker with my claws. Black blood

sprays as I tear through its jugular, but the wound begins healing almost instantly.

The third creature crashes into my side before I can recover, its teeth finding purchase in my shoulder. Pain explodes through me as corruption seeps from its bite. My beast roars, throwing the monster off with pure lycan strength. But more take its place, an endless wave of twisted forms and gleaming teeth.

I fight with everything my father taught me – using their momentum against them, never staying still long enough to be surrounded. My claws find vulnerable points, my jaws crush limbs and throats. But for every creature I put down, two more rise to take its place.

Through the chaos, I catch glimpses of other battles. Warriors falling to coordinated attacks. Pack members fighting with desperate courage against overwhelming odds. And through it all, I track my father’s position on the northern ridge. His power rolls across the battlefield as he holds that crucial line, buying time for our eastern defenses to engage.

More monsters pour through the breach – larger than any we’ve faced before. Their flesh ripples with unnatural changes, scales glinting between patches of mangy fur. But worse than their appearance is their intelligence. They hunt in patterns, use strategy no mindless beast should possess.

A roar of pain draws my attention – one of my best warriors falls to coordinated attacks. Three mutants circle him, moving in perfect sync. I charge toward them, but more creatures cut me off.

Black corruption spreads from every wound they inflict. I feel it trying to creep through my veins, fighting my lycan’s natural healing. Through our bond, I sense Sage’s distant horror as she feels the wrongness of these injuries.

Fighting my way toward the fallen warrior, I don’t see the attack coming from behind. Don’t notice the massive shape launching itself at my exposed back until it’s too late.

But my father does.

His roar shakes the very ground as he throws himself between me and certain death. Claws meant for my spine tear into him instead.

“FATHER!”

The word rips from my throat as he falls. Blood soaks his silver fur, turning it crimson in the moonlight. But his eyes… his eyes hold only satisfaction as he meets my gaze one final time.

“Remember,” he gasps, “what matters…”

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