The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 72

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Chapter 72

Alaric

The scouts kneel before my throne, exhaustion clear in their postures. Three weeks in the northern territories has left them gaunt but determined.

“We found it, my King.” The lead scout places a weathered scroll case at my feet. “Hidden in the mountains where the healing packs once lived.”

My beast stirs at the scent clinging to the artifacts – ancient herbs and something that reminds me of Sage’s unique fragrance.

“The settlement was destroyed,” another scout reports. “But some records survived in underground chambers. Records that tell a very different story than the one the Blackthorn Beta Female presented.”

I unroll the first scroll carefully, its edges crumbling with age. Detailed accounts of the healing packs fill the brittle pages – their abilities, their bloodlines, their sacred duty to protect all wolves.

“There’s more.” The lead scout hesitates. “We found evidence of an attack. Not by their own pack as was claimed, but by outsiders who feared their power.”

Garrett examines the documents over my shoulder. “These dates… they match when Sage would have been a pup. But they don’t match the execution records Daphne provided.”

“Because those records were forged.” I trace the ancient script. “The question is, by whom? And why?”

The council chamber erupts in chaos when we present our findings. Noble families demand authentication of the documents. Others suggest the scouts themselves might be compromised.

“Convenient,” Victoria’s father sneers, “that evidence appearing now perfectly absolves the omega of guilt.”

“These records predate the alleged crimes by centuries,” I counter. “Are you suggesting we fabricated an entire settlement? The documents that exonerate Sage match the ancient records exactly. The proof is irrefutable!”

“I suggest,” Eris interjects smoothly, “that some might be too… personally invested to view evidence objectively.”

My beast snarls at her implication, but she’s playing to the nobles‘ existing doubts. Even proof of Daphne’s lies might not be enough to fully clear Sage’s name, despite her king’s claim to the contrary.

More documents emerge as scouts continue searching the ruins. Detailed records of healing techniques passed down through bloodlines, journals describing abilities that sound impossible – wolves who could heal not just bodies but spirits, who could ease the pain of failed mate bonds or help lost wolves find their way back from feral states.

“The timing is suspicious,” Garrett points out as we examine a map of destroyed settlements. “Each healing pack was systematically eliminated within months of each other. This wasn’t random violence.”

“A coordinated effort,” I agree. “But coordinated by whom?”

The evidence points to collaboration between multiple powerful packs, but the names have been carefully

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Chapter 72

erased from surviving records. Someone went to extraordinary lengths to hide their involvement.

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I find her in the garden later, moonflowers blooming around her like they recognize their own. How did I not see it before? The way plants seem to thrive under her touch, how wounds heal faster in her care – all signs of her true heritage.

“The healing packs were feared,” I tell her quietly. “Not for darkness, but for power others couldn’t control.”

She traces a moonflower petal. “Then why doesn’t anyone remember them?”

“Because someone went to great lengths to erase them. To hide what was done to them.” I show her the scrolls. “Your parents weren’t murderers or victims of their own child as others might suggest. They were targeted for abilities like yours. Their entire pack was.”

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