The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 185

Six months later

Moonlight streams through the ancient windows of our private chambers, painting silver patterns across Sage's bare skin as she dresses for the ceremony. I pause in adjusting my formal attire, momentarily captivated by the sight of her. Six months of motherhood and recovery have transformed her – not back to who she was before, but into someone new, stronger, with a quiet confidence that takes my breath away.

"You're staring," she says without turning, a smile in her voice as she reaches for the ceremonial dress laid across our bed.

"Admiring," I correct, moving behind her to help with the intricate fastenings. "My queen. My mate. The mother of my son."

My fingers linger against her skin, tracing the silver mark on her neck that now pulses with a connection deeper than anything we shared before Alexander's birth. The horrors we endured somehow strengthened rather than weakened what binds us together.

Sage turns in my arms, her hands smoothing the front of my formal jacket with practiced care. "Nervous?" she asks, violet eyes studying mine with the perfect understanding that flows between true mates.

"Not for myself," I admit, the confession easier with her than it would be with anyone else. "For him. For you."

Today marks Alexander's formal presentation to the kingdom – our son, now six months old, finally strong enough for the ancient ceremony that will acknowledge him as heir to the Lycan throne. The council chambers will be filled with ranked wolves from every territory, many still harboring questions about a child born of royal and healing bloodlines.

"He'll surprise them," Sage says with quiet certainty, reaching up to touch my face. "Just as he surprises us every day."

The truth in her words brings a smile to my lips. Our son has indeed proven extraordinary in ways neither prophecy nor preparation could have fully anticipated. At six months, he already displays awareness that would unnerve me if I weren't his father – watching everything with those violet eyes that mirror his mother's, absorbing the world with intelligence far beyond his age.

And then there are the abilities. Yesterday, he'd somehow summoned his favorite toy from across the nursery without anyone carrying it to him. The day before, a minor disagreement between guard captains ended abruptly when Alexander gurgled happily from his cradle, both wolves suddenly finding their argument forgettable.

"The prophecy spoke of balanced power," I muse, helping Sage with the final touches of her formal attire. "I'm not sure anyone truly understood what that meant."

"Including us," she agrees, her hands resting briefly over her abdomen in an unconscious gesture that still appears whenever she thinks of our son. The nightmares have grown less frequent with time, but some scars heal more slowly than others.

A soft knock at the door announces my mother, regal in her formal attire as Queen Mother. "He's ready," she says, pride evident in every line of her posture. "And remarkably cooperative about wearing the ceremonial gown that made you scream for hours."

The shared laughter eases tension that had been building throughout the morning. Helena's unwavering support since Alexander's birth has been a foundation we've both relied upon – her experience as mother to a future king providing guidance neither of us possessed.

"The last reports from security show all invited delegations have arrived," she continues, practical as always beneath her ceremonial appearance. "Lord Harrison has personally verified each attendee."

The precautions might seem excessive to outsiders, but the memory of Cassius and his conspirators remains too fresh to risk complacency. Though the immediate threat ended with his death, no one believes the danger died with him. Too many questions remain unanswered about his wider connections, about those who shared his beliefs about healing bloodlines and children of prophecy.

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