The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Sage

The moon is my only witness as I slip from the packhouse. Three hours until dawn – I’ve learned to measure time by shadows and silence. Blackthorn taught me that, along with how to move unseen, how to become nothing more than a whisper in the dark.

My small bag weighs heavy against my back, filled with only essentials. No luxuries from the closet that was never mine. No delusions about belonging.

The first guard patrol passes below my window – right on schedule. They’re clockwork in their movements, just like at Blackthorn. Different pack, same predictable patterns. I count their steps until they round the corner, then ease into the shadows of the garden.

The irony isn’t lost on me as I use the defensive moves from training to avoid detection. Keep low, stay aware, use your surroundings. Alaric’s voice echoes in my head, and I shove away the ache in my chest at the thought of him.

A twig snaps nearby. I freeze, pressing against rough bark, barely breathing. Two guards pass so close I could touch them, discussing border patrol schedules. The information files itself away automatically – another survival skill I didn’t know I had until Blackthorn.

I make it to the edge of the formal gardens before the air changes. It feels thick, heavy with magic that makes my skin prickle. The wards. I’d overheard talk about increased security, about new magical barriers.

The main paths will be watched. That leaves the dense forest to my left, dark and uninviting. But better the devil you don’t know than the one who plans to discard you.

Time becomes fluid in the forest. Minutes or hours pass as I push through undergrowth, each step taking me further from warmth and false safety. The temperature drops. Fog rolls in, thick and disorienting.

A howl splits the night – too close. Could they have already discovered I’m gone?

I run.

Branches whip my face. Roots try to trip me. Every shadow holds potential threats, but I can’t stop. Won’t stop. The fog thickens until I can barely see three feet ahead.

Something moves in the darkness. Many somethings.

I change direction, heart pounding. My foot catches on a root and I stumble, catching myself against a tree. Blood trickles from scraped palms, but there’s no time for pain.

The sounds of pursuit grow closer. I force myself forward, limbs heavy with exhaustion. Just a little further. Just a little-

They materialize from the fog like ghosts. Royal guards, their silver and black uniforms unmistakable in the moonlight. Five of them, surrounding me in a standard capture formation.

1 drop into a defensive stance. The movements come automatically now, muscle memory from mandatory training sessions. For a moment, pride flashes in my chest – I’m not the same helpless omega they expect.

But I’m also not a wolf. Not a fighter. Not strong enough.

They take me down efficiently, professionally. No unnecessary roughness, but no gentleness either. Just the cold execution of duty.

Chapter 31

+25 BONUS

“The King will want to see her immediately,” one says, grip firm on my arm.

“No, he won’t.” The smooth voice cuts through the fog like silk. Eris emerges from the shadows, perfect even at this hour.

“I caught her stealing from the royal vault earlier,” she says, eyes glittering. “Didn’t want to disturb our King with such unfortunate business during the border crisis meetings.”

“I didn’t-“I start, but she speaks over me.

“Check her bag.‘

11

They find a silver candlestick I’ve never seen before, planted among my meager belongings. Eris’s smile curves like a blade.

“But I didn’t take that,” I protest. “I’ve never-”

“A thieving omega.” Eris sighs dramatically. “How disappointing. And after everything Alaric did for you.”

The guards‘ faces harden. Of course they believe her – she’s a highborn wolf, trusted advisor to the King. I’m nothing. No one.

“The dungeon,” she commands. “No need to bother the King with this tonight. I’ll inform him personally in the morning.”

“No, please,” I struggle as they drag me toward the packhouse. “You have to let me explain-”

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