The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Sage

+15 BONUS

“Perfect!” Iris claps as I complete the formal greeting sequence without stumbling. “You’ve really got this now.”

I straighten, surprised to find I’m no longer sore from maintaining proper posture. When did that become natural? Like my body’s finally accepting its place in these halls.

“Should we go over the Northern territory bloodlines again?” I ask, moving to the familiar window seat in Iris’s quarters. “I want to make sure I have all the connections straight before-”

I stop, realizing I’ve picked up her favorite tea blend without thinking. When did I learn how she takes her tea? When did this room become somewhere I feel comfortable enough to move around freely?

“Before what?” Iris prompts, but her knowing smile suggests she sees the thoughts crossing my face.

“Nothing.” I busy myself with the tea. “Just want to be prepared.”

“Mmhmm.” She accepts her cup – two sugars, no cream, exactly how she likes it. “You know, for someone who’s ‘just visiting‘, you’ve really gotten to know our ways.”

The word ‘visiting‘ stings more than it should.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Iris observes. “Was it something I said?”

“No, I just…” I stare into my tea, watching leaves swirl like the thoughts in my head. “Sometimes I forget I’m not really… that this isn’t…”

“Isn’t what? Your home?” Her voice softens. “Because it sure feels like it is.”

I stand abruptly, needing to move. “I should check on the morning patients.”

The healing wing provides welcome distraction from uncomfortable thoughts. More wolves seek me out directly now, especially for the strange wounds that won’t heal properly with traditional methods.

“Could you show me that silver–leaf preparation again?” a young healer asks. “The way you combine it with moonflower essence… I’ve never seen anything like it.”

I demonstrate the technique, something warm blooming in my chest at their genuine interest. Three other healers gather to watch, taking notes.

“You have a gift,” the head healer comments quietly. “Our pack is fortunate to have-” She stops awkwardly, perhaps remembering my undefined status.

“A temporary resource?” Eris suggests, gliding in with the perfect timing she always seems to manage. “How generous of you to share your… unique methods with us while you’re here.”

The words ‘while you’re here‘ echo in my head as she sweeps out. They shouldn’t hurt. This was always temporary, wasn’t it? A sanctuary offered by a kind Alpha, nothing more.

But watching young wolves practice the healing techniques I’ve taught them, seeing my carefully labeled herb

1/3

Chapter 47

+15 BONUS

preparations lined neatly on shelves… when did this start feeling like more?

“Did you hear about the autumn ceremony?” Two young wolves pass the healing wing, voices carrying. “My cousin’s officially joining the pack. Father says the Alpha’s blessing makes you truly belong, like being born again under our moon.”

I pretend to focus on grinding herbs, but my hands shake slightly. Pack inclusion ceremonies are rare, special. The Alpha accepting a new wolf as truly one of their own, not just a resident but family.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Iris appears with lunch, shooing away lingering healers.

“Just thinking about belonging,” I say before I can stop myself.

She sets down our food with careful precision. “Interesting topic.”

“I was just… I heard about the autumn ceremony. About wolves formally joining the pack.”

“Ah.” She tries to hide her smile. “Beautiful ritual. The Alpha’s blessing, the pack’s acceptance, the moon’s

witness…”

“Have you ever…” I trail off, unsure how to ask.

“Have I ever seen an outsider become true pack?” She meets my eyes steadily. “Someone not born to our bloodlines, you mean?”

I nod, heart thundering.

“It’s rare,” she admits. “But not unheard of. Especially when that person has already proven their worth to the pack. Through service, loyalty, healing…”

The way she emphasizes the last word makes my cheeks heat.

“It’s not just about bloodlines,” she continues softly. “It’s about choice. About choosing to put down roots, to make this your home. And about the pack choosing you back.”

“Even if…” I swallow hard. “Even if that person can’t shift?”

“Even then.” She takes my hand. “Sometimes the strongest bonds aren’t about form at all. They’re about heart.”

Hope flutters in my chest like a wild thing. Dangerous, wonderful hope.

“Besides,” she adds with forced casualness, “you’re already more pack than half these noble wolves. You protect our injured, teach our healers, strengthen our pack. The ceremony would just make official what some of us already know.”

“That I don’t know my place?” I try to joke.

“That you’ve already found it.” She squeezes my hand. “If you’re brave enough to claim it.”

I touch my pendant, thinking of all the ways this place has become home without my permission. The familiar halls, the herb garden I’ve expanded, the wolves who trust me with their healing.

Thinking of steel–gray eyes that make me feel safe, of gentle hands and softer “sweetlings.”

2/3

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify