The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Sage

The healing wing has become my sanctuary over the past weeks, but this morning even that peace is shattered. Lady Victoria reclines on an examination table, holding her wrist as though it’s made of glass.

“Such primitive methods,” she murmurs as I grind herbs for a poultice. “In my family’s pack, we have actual healers. Ones with proper training. And wolves, of course.”

I focus on my task, trying to ignore the other noble she–wolves who’ve suddenly developed various minor ailments requiring treatment. They cluster around Victoria like perfectly groomed vultures.

“The traditional healing arts are passed down through bloodlines,” Lady Eleanor adds. “Though I suppose without knowing your family history, you wouldn’t understand such things.”

The mortar and pestle nearly crack under my grip. I think of my pendant, of half–remembered songs about moonlight and healing. But those vague memories won’t help me here,

“The poultice is ready,” I say instead, keeping my voice steady. “For your… sprain.”

Victoria examines her perfectly fine wrist. “Perhaps I should wait for a more qualified opinion. We wouldn’t want any… accidents.”

The head healer is conveniently absent this morning. In fact, the entire healing wing is mysteriously empty except for this cluster of noble wolves.

I clean up my workstation methodically, feeling their eyes on my back. Their whispers follow me as I head for the garden to gather fresh herbs:

-can’t even shift–““–charity case-” “-embarrassing really-”

The garden should be safe at this hour, but they follow like shadows in designer dresses. I’m counting yarrow. leaves when they surround me.

“You know,” Victoria says conversationally, “in proper packs, omegas know their place.”

“And where exactly is that?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

“Not in the Lycan King’s private quarters.” Lady Eleanor’s smile shows teeth. “We all saw where Iris took night.”

you last

“After your dramatic little episode in the dungeons.” Victoria circles me slowly. “Though some say that was just another plea for attention. Like your convenient healing suggestions.”

“My healing works.” I straighten, remembering the warriors who returned last night with wounds that wouldn’t close Remembering how my suggestions helped.

“Does it?” Victoria’s hand shoots out, knocking my herb basket aside. “Oops. So clumsy of me. You should clean that up on your knees, where you belong.”

As I bend to gather the scattered herbs, someone shoves me hard. I stumble, landing in a muddy puddle from the morning’s rain. Their laughter rings out like crystal bells.

“Look,” Feator coos, “she’s finally learned her proper place.”

I push to my feet, mud dripping from my clothes. At Blackhorn, I learned to stay down, to make myself small. But something in me has changed. Maybe it’s the memory of Alaric’s gentle “sweetling.” or thaian Trin

Chapter 37

+25 BONUS

family. Maybe I’m just tired of being everyone’s prey.

“My place?” I meet Victoria’s perfectly made–up face. “Is exactly where I choose it to be.”

Her hand raises, claws extending. “Stupid little=”

Power floods the garden, familiar pine and winter wind scent charging the air. Victoria’s hand freezes mid–strike.

“Is there a problem?” Alaric’s voice could freeze flame.

The noble wolves immediately shift to graceful submission, heads bowed. But I catch the satisfied glint in Victoria’s eye – she wanted him to see this, to see me muddy and humiliated.

“Not at all, my King.” Her voice drips honey. “We were just helping your little… guest understand proper pack protocol.”

The temperature seems to drop further. “Were you?”

Something dangerous edges his tone. Victoria must hear it because her smile falters slightly.

“Perhaps,” he continues softly, “you should review protocol regarding challenges to those under royal protection.

11

The threat in his voice makes even my skin prickle. The noble wolves retreat with quick bows, though I catch Victoria’s triumphant glance. She got what she wanted – proof that I need protection, that I affect Alaric’s judgment.

When they’re gone, I try to wipe mud from my dress. “I could have handled it.”

“I know.” He approaches slowly, shrugging off his jacket. “You’re stronger than they know.”

The simple acknowledgment catches me off guard. He settles his jacket around my shoulders, and the warmth of it of him- makes me shiver.

–

“I don’t need protecting,” I insist, even as I clutch the jacket closer.

“I know that too.” His fingers brush mud from my cheek, impossibly gentle for hands that hold so much power. But I need to protect you anyway.”

The words sink into my chest like stones into still water. I should pull away. Should remember all the secrets between us, all the reasons not to trust this tenderness.

Instead, I find myself swaying toward him, drawn to his warmth like a flower to the sun. His hand cups my face, and for a moment I let myself believe-

A guard appears at the garden entrance. “Alpha, the council is waiting.”

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