The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 112

“You can’t be serious.” I watch Sage prepare a basket of healing supplies and baked goods a peace offering she intends to take into the pack village. “Not with tensions this high.”

“That’s exactly why I have to do this.” She meets my eyes steadily. “Eris wants them to see me as something dangerous, something to fear. The only way to fight that is to show them who I really am.”

“By putting yourself at risk?” My beast rises at the mere thought. “When half the pack believes her lies about your powers being dangerous?”

“And keeping me locked away in the packhouse only reinforces those fears.” She touches my face gently.” Think about it, Alaric. If you keep me too protected, what message does that send? That even you don’t trust me among our people?”

–

The truth in her words doesn’t make them easier to hear. Through our bond, I feel her determination warring with her own anxiety. But there’s something else too – that core of strength that made me fall in love with her.

“At least let me send guards-”

“No.” She shakes her head firmly. “I need to do this as just me. Not the Lycan King’s choice for queen, not some powerful healer they’re afraid of. Just Sage.”

My beast howls in protest as she heads toward the village alone. Every instinct screams to follow, to protect. But she’s right – my presence would only complicate things.

Through our bond, I track her progress. Feel her nervousness as she approaches the first cluster of pack homes. The way her heart races when mothers pull their pups closer.

But she persists. Offers fresh–baked bread to elderly wolves who can’t easily travel to the packhouse. Helps a group of youngsters with their reading lessons. Sits with a grieving widow who lost her mate in the last mutant attack

Small kindnesses, offered freely. No powers, no healing glow. Just genuine care for wolves others often overlook.

Gradually, I feel the tension ease through our bond. Some wolves still watch her warily, but others begin to respond. A pup dares to hug her legs in thanks for a sweet roll. An old wolf shares stories of the pack’s history as she helps him tend his garden.

For a moment, hope flares. Maybe this could work. Maybe she could show them the truth through actions rather

than words…

Then agony explodes through our bond.

The pain hits so suddenly I lose my breath. Through our connection, I feel the impact of multiple attackers. Feel her terror as they drag her into shadows between buildings.

I’m moving before conscious thought, my beast taking over as I race toward her location. But even as I run, I feel more blows land. Feel her trying to protect her head as kicks and punches rain down.

Chapter 112

+25 BONUS

“This is our pack!” A voice snarls. “We don’t need your corrupt powers here!”

“Dangerous bitch!” Another joins in. “Think you can fool us with your act?”

Through our bond, I feel her refusal to use her powers to defend herself. Even now, she won’t give them reason to fear her abilities.

The sound of her ribs cracking echoes through our connection. My roar of rage shakes the very ground as I finally reach them. But the damage is already done.

I find her curled into a ball, blood matting her silver–blonde hair. The attackers flee at my approach, but I can’t chase them. Can’t leave her bleeding in the dirt.

“Sweetling.” My hands shake as I gather her broken body into my arms. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Her violet eyes flutter open, already swelling shut. “Had to try,” she whispers. “Had to show them…”

“Shh.” I cradle her closer, my beast howling for blood. “Save your strength.”

But even as I race her back to the packhouse, I know something has changed. This wasn’t just an attack – it was a message. A warning about what happens to those who don’t bow to the North’s quest for power.

Through our bond, I feel her pain, her heartbreak at this betrayal by our own people. But underneath that, something stronger builds – not defeat, but determination.

Because our enemies can’t be fought with kindness alone. This war will require blood before it ends.

Eris wanted to prove Sage was dangerous? She just might get her wish. Just not in the way she expected.

The healing wing erupts in chaos when I burst in with her broken body. Healers swarm around us, but I snarl at anyone who tries to make me release her. Through our bond, I feel her pain spike with each movement, each breath.

“My King.” The head healer approaches cautiously. “We need to examine her…”

My beast wars with reason until Sage’s hand squeezes mine weakly. “Let them help,” she whispers.

Forcing myself to lay her on the bed feels like tearing out my own heart. I pace the edges of the room while they work, tracking every wince, every muffled cry of pain through our bond. My claws extend and retract with each wave of her suffering.

“Multiple broken ribs,” one healer reports. “Internal bleeding. Severe concussion…”

The clinical listing of her injuries feeds my rage. These weren’t random attacks of fear – the damage is too precise, too calculated. They meant to hurt her, to break her, to send a message.

Through our bond, I feel her healing abilities trying to activate, but she suppresses them. Even now, she won’t give them more reason to fear her power.

“Let me.” The head healer’s hands glow with traditional healing energy – weaker than Sage’s abilities but ” acceptable” to those who fear her strength. The irony tastes like ash in my mouth.

Chapter 112

+25 BONUS

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify