The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Alaric

+25 BONUS

She moves through the garden like a ghost in moonlight, her silver–blonde hair catching starlight as she mechanically sorts herbs. Even from my office window, I can see the shadows under her eyes, the slight tremor in her hands.

My beast rages beneath my skin, remembering how she flinched from my touch yesterday. How she curled into herself, making her already small frame tiny with fear. The urge to hunt down everyone who hurt her wars with the need to gather her close and never let go.

“The noble families are demanding a response,” Garrett says behind me. “Victoria’s father-”

“Can go fuck himself.”

“Alaric.”

I turn from the window reluctantly. “I know. Politics. Alliances. The same bullshit that lets them hurt what’s mine.”

“What’s yours?” His eyebrows rise. “Have you told her yet?”

I growl in response, which is answer enough.

The meeting with Victoria and the noble families is mercifully brief. She plays her part perfectly – wide eyes, practiced confusion about why anyone would take a “harmless pack lesson” so seriously.

“Perhaps,” she suggests delicately, “some wolves are too… sensitive for pack life.”

My beast surges forward, and for a moment I think I might actually kill her. But she’s too well protected by politics and protocol. For now.

Later, I find Sage still in the garden, though the moon rides high overhead. She startles when I approach, then tries to hide it.

“You should be resting,” I say softly.

“Can’t.” Her fingers tremble as she sorts moonflower petals. “Every time I close my eyes…

She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t have to. I kneel beside her, careful to telegraph my movements.

“Show me what you’re doing?”

Her surprise at the request cuts deep. When was the last time someone simply asked to learn from her?

“It’s nothing special,” she demurs. “Just sorting healing herbs.”

1/4

Chapter 42

+25 BONUS

“Show me anyway.”

Slowly, her shoulders relax as she explains each herb’s properties. Her voice grows stronger as she demonstrates how to identify the most potent leaves, how to combine them for maximum effect.

When our hands brush reaching for the same stem, neither of us pulls away.

“They were right about one thing,” she says suddenly, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t belong here.”

“Look at me, sweetling.”

Those violet eyes meet mine reluctantly. Up close, I can see the toll yesterday took – the fear she’s trying so hard to hide, the exhaustion she won’t admit to.

“You belong exactly where you are,” I tell her firmly. “And anyone who says something different can answer to me.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Her smile holds too much pain. “Everyone watching, waiting for the Lycan King to show weakness because of the broken omega he took in.” 1

“You’re not broken.” The words come out rougher than intended. “And you’re not a weakness.”

“Then what am I?”

“Mine,” my beast roars. “Mate. Everything.”

Instead, I find myself telling her something I’ve never admitted aloud: “When I was young, my father locked me in the dark for three days. To teach me control. To burn weakness out of me.” Her small gasp makes me continue, “I still hate small spaces. Still feel that darkness sometimes.”

Her hand finds mine in the moonlight. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because strength isn’t about never being afraid. It’s about choosing to be brave anyway.‘

Like you, I don’t say. Like watching you gather yourself after every blow, watching you help others even when you’re hurting.

A messenger appears at the garden entrance. “My King, urgent news from the Southern territories-

“It can wait.” The words surprise us both.

For once, I don’t rush to duty. Instead, I help Sage gather her herbs, our hands brushing more often than strictly necessary. We work in comfortable silence until her basket is full.

A cool breeze makes her shiver, and before I can think better of it, I shrug off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. The sight of her in my clothes does something to my beast that I’m not ready

2/4

Chapter 42

+25 BONUS

to examine too closely.

“You don’t have to stay,” she says, pulling the jacket closer despite her words. “I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“More urgent, maybe. Not more important.”

She stills at that, her hands freezing over the herbs. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so…” She gestures vaguely between us. “This. Kind. Patient. After everything that’s happened, all the trouble I’ve caused-”

“You haven’t caused anything,” I interrupt, perhaps too sharply. “Victoria and her circle made their choices. The attacks on our borders aren’t your fault. None of this is.”

“But if I wasn’t here-“|

“Then they’d find another excuse.” I catch her chin gently, tilting her face up to mine. “Look at me, sweetling. Really look.”

the Lycan King with his Those violet eyes search my face in the moonlight. I wonder what she sees cold mask of power, or the man beneath who’s barely holding himself back from claiming what his beast knows is his?

“I see you,” she whispers, and something in my chest cracks at the wonder in her voice. “Sometimes I think I’m the only one who does.”

My thumb brushes her cheek before I can stop it. She leans into the touch slightly, and my beast purrs with satisfaction.

“You are,” I admit roughly. “And that terrifies them more than any display of power could.”

A single tear escapes down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb, remembering how she wouldn’t let

herself cry yesterday, how she held herself rigid with forced dignity even in her fear.

“I’m so tired,” she confesses, the words barely a breath. “Of being strong. Of being afraid. Of wanting…”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify