The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 160

Sage

"The integration program shows remarkable progress," Lord Harrison reports, genuine approval evident in his typically measured tone. "Three territories have established healing centers staffed by wolves previously hiding their abilities."

I try to focus on the council update despite the persistent ache in my lower back – a new development in my fourth month of pregnancy. Through our bond, Alaric's attention divides between council business and constant monitoring of my comfort, his awareness of my physical state sometimes exceeding my own.

"And security at these centers?" he questions, his priorities clear in the ordering.

"Comprehensive," Lord Harrison confirms. "As you specified, my King."

What goes unspoken is the reason for such unprecedented security – not just protection for previously persecuted healers, but safeguards against those who might use healing centers to track my movements, my interests, my potential vulnerability.

The past month has settled into an uneasy pattern – my healing work continuing under increasingly strict protocols, apparent threats receding into watchful silence. No notes discovered in three weeks. No suspicious activity reported by expanded security forces. No obvious opposition to my continued public appearances.

This calm should feel reassuring. Instead, it hangs like mist before a storm – oppressive silence that promises rather than prevents future conflict.

Through our bond, I feel Alaric's similar suspicion. His beast remains vigilant despite outward peace, his strategic mind recognizing lull not as victory but as potential preparation for something worse.

When the council session concludes, I rise carefully, adapting to my body's changing balance. My hand rests automatically over the now-prominent curve of my abdomen, connection to our child growing stronger with each passing week.

"I received three healing requests this morning," I inform Alaric as we walk toward our private quarters. "All from the eastern village."

His tension transmits clearly through our bond, though his expression remains neutral for passing pack members. "All from the same village? That's unusual."

"Winter fever spread through several families," I explain, having anticipated his concern. "Nothing serious, but uncomfortable for the elderly and very young."

What I don't mention is my own suspicion about multiple requests from a single location. Through our bond, I feel Alaric connecting the same dots my analytical mind has already aligned – potential coordination, potential trap, potential opportunity for those who might wish me harm.

The third household feels different from the moment I enter. Through heightened senses my pregnancy has somehow enhanced, I detect subtle wrongness – scents that don't quite align with reported illness, tension beneath the elderly wolf's grateful smile, something unidentifiable that raises warning prickles across my skin.

"Thank you for coming, my Queen," the old wolf rasps, gesturing toward the back room. "My grandson suffers the worst of all. His fever burns so hot we feared for his life."

Guards exchange quick glances at this new information – a patient not mentioned in the original request.

"I wasn't informed of a child patient," I say carefully, monitoring the old wolf's response.

"My apologies, Your Majesty." His deference seems excessive, gaze never quite meeting mine. "In my worry, I must have forgotten to mention him when sending the request."

The lead guard steps forward. "We'll need to clear the back room before the Queen enters."

"Of course, of course." The old wolf's agitation increases visibly. "But please be gentle. The boy startles easily, and his condition worsens with stress."