The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 147

Sage

The marking itself takes mere moments, but its effects ripple outward like stones dropped in still water. Our bond strengthens impossibly, barriers between us dissolving until I can scarcely tell where my consciousness ends and his begins. His emotions flood through me – possessive pride, fierce protection, and beneath it all, love so profound it defies description.

When he finally withdraws, licking the wound closed with an intensity that sends shivers through my entire body, the witnesses return to complete the ritual. Ancient words acknowledge what has already transpired spiritually – we are bound, marked, mated before all laws recognized by wolfkind.

The celebration that follows our return to the packhouse rivals any in kingdom memory. Music and feasting fill every corner, warriors and nobles alike drinking to their newly official queen. Through it all, Alaric keeps me close, his hand rarely leaving mine, his eyes tracking my movements with heightened attention.

"You've made quite an impression," Helena observes as we take a rare moment of relative privacy. "Even Victoria's father seems genuinely supportive now."

"Amazing what fighting a war together will do for political relationships," I reply, though my focus keeps drifting back to Alaric across the room.

Something shifts in Helena's expression as she studies me more carefully. "Are you feeling well? You seem... distracted."

"I'm fine." But even as I say it, I register the unusual warmth building beneath my skin, the way scents suddenly seem sharper, more distinct. "Just overwhelmed by everything."

Helena's eyes narrow with sudden understanding. "How long since your last cycle?"

The question catches me off-guard. "My cycle?"

Helena's gaze sharpens. "You've never experienced a heat before, have you?"

"No," I admit, sudden understanding dawning. "I found my wolf so late... I never..."

"The marking often triggers it in true mates," she explains quietly. "Especially the first one. Your bond is exceptionally strong, and now that it's been formalized through the ancient ritual..."

"Will continue without us." His voice brooks no argument.

As he guides me toward a side exit, I become acutely aware of eyes following our departure – not just curious or knowing, but hungry. Predatory. The scent I'm producing is becoming impossible to mask, drawing attention that makes Alaric's growl deepen continuously.

"Alaric," I whisper urgently as heat builds beneath my skin, "I think it's getting worse."

"I know." His jaw clenches as he quickens our pace. "Just stay close."

We're halfway to the exit when I notice the pattern forming around us – unmated males from various packs casually repositioning themselves, forming an unconscious circle that tightens with each step we take. Their movements seem almost choreographed, instinct overriding reason as they respond to pheromones too powerful to ignore.

Through our bond, Alaric's awareness sharpens into dangerous focus. His arm tightens around me possessively, a warning rumble building in his chest.