The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 148

"My Queen," a warrior from an allied territory steps directly into our path, his pupils dilated, nostrils flaring. "Perhaps you'd honor us with one more dance before—"

"Step aside." Alaric's command carries Alpha power that should drop any wolf to their knees.

But heat pheromones can override even Alpha commands. The warrior hesitates, his instincts warring with his rational mind. Around us, more males drift closer, their eyes taking on the same hungry gleam.

"Alaric," I whisper, panic rising as I sense what's happening. "There are too many of them."

My scent is triggering something primal, something beyond their conscious control. Even wolves who would never normally challenge the Lycan King find themselves drawn forward, circling closer, responding to biological imperatives older than civilization itself.

"When I move," Alaric murmurs against my ear, "stay directly behind me."

The first challenging growl rises from somewhere in the crowd – not a conscious challenge to the king, but an instinctive response to the presence of an unmated female in full heat. Another joins it, then another, the sounds building into a cacophony that silences the music and conversation.

Helena's voice cuts through the growing tension. "Clear the way! Now!"

But her command falls on deaf ears as more males join the circling pattern, their movements becoming more aggressive, more territorial. Their focus fixed entirely on me.

Alaric's partial shift happens in an instant – not full lycan form, but enough to make his intentions perfectly clear. "MINE," he roars, the sound reverberating through the great hall with enough force to crack stone.

For one breathless moment, it seems to work – wolves backing away from pure Alpha dominance. Then a snarl rises from the back of the crowd, followed by another, primal instinct overwhelming even fear of their king.

The snarls behind us grow louder, closer, as we reach the final corridor leading to our private chambers. Just twenty more steps. Fifteen. Ten.

A massive body crashes into the wall beside us, having launched itself around the corner with reckless abandon. Not one pursuer but three – their eyes feral, reason completely overwhelmed by the pheromones now pouring from my overheated skin.

Alaric sets me down just long enough to position himself between me and the threat, his body beginning the transformation to full lycan form. "Run," he commands. "Chambers. Lock the door."

But even as he speaks, more wolves appear at the corridor's opposite end, cutting off our escape route.

Trapped between primal forces no wolf can fully control, I make a desperate choice – reaching for powers evolved beyond what anyone fully understands, hoping they might save us from biology older than reason itself.