The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 146

The final steps to Alaric feel like crossing from one life to another. His hand extends formally, but his eyes burn with possessive heat as our fingers touch for the first time since dawn.

"I claim this wolf as my mate." His voice resonates with power that makes lesser wolves instinctively bare their throats. "Before the kingdom, before the council, before the moon herself."

"By what right?" Lord Harrison challenges, as tradition demands.

"By right of the mate bond recognized under moon law." Alaric's fingers tighten on mine. "By right of strength proven in battle beside her. By right of a kingdom saved through our united purpose."

The formal questions continue – ancient words establishing authority, outlining duties, confirming commitments. Through it all, Alaric's gaze never leaves mine, his beast pushing closer to the surface with each passing moment.

"Does any wolf challenge this claim?" Lord Harrison asks finally, addressing the assembly.

Silence falls – profound, complete. Even those who once opposed me stand witness without protest. Through our bond, Alaric's satisfaction rumbles like distant thunder.

"Then kneel before your king," Lord Harrison instructs, "and rise as his queen."

The coronation itself passes in solemn ceremony – ancient oaths, symbolic tokens, formal acknowledgment from representatives of every territory. When the royal circlet is finally secured upon my brow, matching Alaric's in design but uniquely adapted with healing symbols, a cheer erupts that shakes the very stones.

But for all its significance, the coronation merely paves way for what truly matters – the marking ceremony that follows in the sacred grove, attended only by essential witnesses.

Moonlight bathes ancient stones as we enter the ceremonial circle. Here, away from political trappings, primal law reigns. Alaric's eyes have shifted fully to amber, his beast rising without resistance as formal distance finally dissolves.

"For generations," the head elder intones, "Alpha wolves have marked their mates under moon witness. Tonight, the Lycan King claims his queen not just by royal decree, but by sacred bond."

"I know." His nostrils flare slightly, his pupils dilating as he inhales deeply. "I feel it too."

The traditional marking requires specific declaration, but Alaric seems equally distracted, his focus fixed on the exposed skin where his mark will soon reside. His thumb traces the spot with possessive intent, sending jolts of electricity down my spine.

Somehow, we recover enough presence of mind to speak the ancient words – promises of loyalty, commitment, and protection exchanged under moon witness. Through our bond, emotions flow too powerful for language – love and possession and primal need tangled into something overwhelming.

When his mouth finally descends to my neck, the contact burns like fire and ice simultaneously. His teeth break skin, magic older than civilization flowing between us as the mate bond manifests physically. Through our connection, I feel his beast's triumph, his man's devotion, both united in claiming what has always been his.

And now, will be for eternity.