The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 158

Sage

Another note, carefully folded and slipped beneath the herbs I'd set aside for morning sickness remedies. I unfold it with practiced caution, already knowing what I'll find – the same ancient script, the same vicious threats against my life, my child, our future.

"Your healing blood will spill before the abomination draws its first breath."

I burn it like the others, watching ancient parchment curl and blacken to ash. Two months have passed since our announcement, my pregnancy now visible in the slight curve beneath my gowns. Two months of increasing threats, each more specific than the last. Each carefully hidden from Alaric.

Through our bond, I feel him approaching before I hear his footsteps – his awareness of me heightened with each passing day of pregnancy. I scatter the ashes and compose myself before he enters our private study.

"You should be resting," he says immediately, noting the books spread across my desk. His protective instincts have only intensified as my body changes, his beast reacting to physical evidence of my pregnant state with increased vigilance.

"I'm fine." I offer the reassurance that's become our daily ritual. "Just reviewing healing texts for Elder Marta's arthritis treatment."

His eyes narrow slightly, sensing the half-truth through our bond. I've become adept at masking specific thoughts from him – not the threats themselves, which would be impossible to hide completely, but their frequency, their escalating nature. Instead, I let him feel my genuine fatigue, the normal discomfort of early pregnancy, creating a plausible explanation for any distress that might bleed through.

"The council session starts in an hour," he reminds me, moving behind my chair to massage tense shoulders. Through our bond, his concern flows as constant as an underground spring. "You don't need to attend. No one would question—"

"I'm pregnant, not incapacitated." The words emerge sharper than intended, frustration bubbling up despite my efforts to contain it. "The Queen still has duties regardless of her condition."

His hands still momentarily, his beast bristling at my tone. Through our bond, I feel his struggle to balance respect for my position with primal need to protect. It's a battle he fights hourly now, one that leaves us both increasingly on edge.

"Of course," he concedes finally, though tension remains evident in his stance. "I simply suggest prioritizing certain responsibilities over others."

The unspoken disagreement hangs between us – my continued healing work within the pack villages. What once represented my acceptance has become a constant source of conflict, my determination to continue serving as healer warring with his need to keep me within secured walls.

"The council expects reforms on healing pack integration," I remind him, redirecting to safer territory. "I've spent weeks preparing those proposals."

His nod holds reluctant agreement, his beast temporarily placated by compromise – formal council duties within the secure packhouse instead of village healing that requires travel beyond protected walls.

"I'll send Garrett to escort you." His hand settles briefly over the slight curve of my abdomen, touch reverent despite our tension. Through our bond, his love flows clear and pure beneath protective concern.

Before I can respond, Alaric materializes beside me, his presence radiating protective authority. "Send full details to the royal healers," he commands. "They'll prepare appropriate treatments."

"The child needs direct intervention," I counter quietly, turning to face him fully. "Advanced healing that only I can provide."

The muscle in his jaw tightens, his beast pushing dangerously close to the surface. Through our bond, his immediate rejection clashes with reluctant acknowledgment of truth – my evolved abilities offer healing beyond what any traditional healer can provide.

"I'll send royal guards to bring the child here," he suggests, the compromise already forming in his strategic mind.

"The boy is too weak to move." I stand firm, aware of council members lingering to observe this rare public disagreement between king and queen. "And his condition requires environmental context – understanding what in their home might be causing continued illness."

Through our bond, frustration builds on both sides – my determination to fulfill healing duties warring with his absolute priority to protect, audiences on both sides making private resolution impossible.

Despite our audience, I won’t be swayed. The Lycan King may bend all others to his will. But he’ll soon find I won’t be moved so easily. There are six more months of this pregnancy and I can’t spend it as a prisoner in my own home.

After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve overcome, I just hope this isn’t the line in the sand neither of us are willing to cross.