The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 80

Sage

“Again,” Iris instructs as I shift back to human form. “You’re getting faster, but you need to be able to change instantly if threatened.”

My bones and muscles protest, but I welcome the physical discomfort. It’s easier than the constant ache of the mate bond, the awareness of Alaric that I can’t shut off no matter how hard I try.

“He suffers too,” Aura reminds me. “I can feel it through the bond.”

“Then he should have thought of that before lying to me,” I snap back, shifting again into my white wolf form.

The sun rises fully as we practice, other wolves gathering to watch. My transformation has changed how they see me – some with awe, others with lingering suspicion. But at least they’re open about it now, unlike some people.

“The Alpha’s in another emergency meeting,” I overhear one guard tell another. “More attacks reported from the eastern territories.”

Of course he is. There’s always another meeting, another crisis, another reason to be anywhere but here.

“He’s doing his duty,” Aura argues. “The attacks are real.”

“And we’re not important enough to make time for,” I counter, shifting back perhaps more forcefully than

necessary.

The head healer finds me later in the healing wing, testing my new abilities on wounded warriors. My power grows stronger daily, though nowhere near its full potential, at least according to the descriptions I’ve read in the ancient texts.

“Your technique has evolved,” she observes. “The healing responds more naturally now.”

It’s true. Since my wolf awakened, since power coursed through me that day in the garden, everything feels more instinctive. If only other things made as much sense.

I sense Alaric before I see him – the mate bond flaring with awareness. He stands in the doorway, watching me work, and for a moment the pull between us is almost overwhelming.

“The council requests your presence,” he says formally. “They have questions about the attack.”

“Of course they do.” I keep my voice neutral. “When?”

“Now, if you’re free.”

As if I could refuse. As if anything about this is really a choice.

The council chamber feels colder than usual, or maybe that’s just me. I recount the attack, my transformation, everything except the personal details that still cut too deep.

“And these abilities,” Lord Marcus asks, “you can control them?”

1/3

Chapter 80

+25 BONUS

“I’m learning to.” I meet his eyes steadily. “Would you prefer I hadn’t used them to save lives?” He doesn’t need to know I had no idea how to stop using it at the time.

Alaric makes a sound almost like pride before catching himself. When I glance his way, his face is carefully blank again. Of course it is.

Watching him coordinate responses to the attacks, part of me knows I’m being unfair. Reports of mutant wolves attacking other territories grow daily. As Lycan King, he has a responsibility to protect them all. The exhaustion rolling through our bond tells me he’s barely sleeping, barely eating, trying to handle everything at once.

“He carries so much,” Aura murmurs. “Feel how the weight of it bends him.”

And I do feel it – every burden, every decision wearing him down. Sometimes the bond floods with his frustration, his need to be everywhere at once. To protect his territories, his pack, his mate…

But that’s part of what hurts. Even knowing what I am to him, he still keeps his distance. Still maintains these formal, public interactions like we’re nothing to each other.

When we pass in halls, his eyes hold so much he won’t say. The bond pulses with words unspoken, with need barely contained. But he merely nods formally and continues to his next crisis.

Once, I catch him watching me train with Iris. The longing flowing through our connection nearly brings me to my knees. But when I look again, he’s gone – called away to another emergency meeting about the attacks.

“He’s trying,” Aura insists. “Feel how it tears at him to walk away.”

“Then why does he keep walking?” I ask her, but we both feel the answer through the bond – duty, responsibility, the weight of his crown.

Some part of me wants to go to him, to bridge this gap growing between us. To say I understand the impossible position he’s in, trying to balance pack safety with personal feelings.

But then I remember all the lies. All the times he could have trusted me with the truth but chose not to. All the moments I questioned my sanity for feeling so drawn to him, while he knew exactly why.

Hours later, I find myself in the training room, practicing combat forms to burn off restless energy. Aura paces in my mind, as unsettled as I am.

“Pack needs a strong Alpha,” she insists. “Many threats to handle.”

“I know,” I acknowledge. “But would it kill him to take ten minutes to actually talk to me?”

Movement at the door draws my attention – Alaric, looking exhausted but determined. For a moment, hope flares.

Then a guard appears behind him. “My King, the Northern Alliance representatives have arrived.”

Something breaks in his eyes, but he turns away. Again.

“Lady Sage?” A young healer approaches tentatively. “We need help with the burned warriors…”

At least here I’m needed. Here I can do some good. Here my presence matters.

2/3

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify