The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Alaric

Blood soaks into the ground at my feet, but for once it’s not from enemies. Three of my best warriors lie writhing in pain, their wounds refusing to heal. The mutant wolves‘ latest attack was coordinated, precise – and their claws leave marks that resist our strongest healing magic.

But even as I kneel beside my injured men, my beast claws beneath my skin, sensing Sage’s distress through a bond she doesn’t know exists. The conflicting pulls of duty tear at me – protect my warriors, protect my mate, protect my pack. All while maintaining ‘the facade of cold control everyone expects from their Lycan King.

“Alpha.” Garrett’s voice draws me back. “The council is gathering. They’re demanding answers.”

Of course they are. I leave my warriors in the healers‘ care, though something tells me traditional methods won’t be enough this time.

The council chamber buzzes with tension when I enter. Victoria holds court among the noble wolves, her golden hair arranged to display her family’s ceremonial clips – a reminder of the pure bloodlines she represents.

“These attacks grow bolder,” Elder Marcus states as I take my seat. “Our defenses are failing.”

“Perhaps,” Victoria suggests smoothly, “because we’ve strayed from tried and true ways in other areas as well.” My beast snarls at her implied criticism of Sage, but I keep my voice steady. “Explain.”

“Pack strength flows from pure bloodlines, from proper alliances.” She leans forward, every movement calculated. “An unmated Alpha in times of crisis sends a message of weakness to our enemies.”

“The Lycan King’s mate choice affects all territories,” another council member adds. “Traditional alliances have maintained peace for generations.”

Father’s voice carries from the doorway: “She’s not wrong, son.”

The chamber falls silent as Perseus enters. Even semi–retired, his power fills the room like storm clouds.

“The pack needs stability,” he continues. “Especially now.”

The pack needs healing, I think, remembering those resistant wounds. But I can’t voice that thought without revealing too much about my suspicions – and my mate.

“I’ll take your concerns under advisement,” I say instead, rising. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have wounded warriors to check on.”

1 feel their disapproval following me to the healing wing, where I find exactly what I expected: Sage, quietly working despite the noble wolves‘ attempts to edge her out.

“The yarrow poultice isn’t working,” I hear one healer say. “We need stronger magic.”

“Try adding silver leaf,” Sage suggests softly, “And moonflower essence.”

They ignore her, but I watch as she leaves the mixture where they’ll find it. Within hours, they’ll be using, it while claiming they thought of it themselves.

She feels my presence – she always does and turns slightly. The shadows under her violet eyes match my own exhaustion. For a moment, I let myself immagine crossing the room, pulling her into my arms, to hell with politics and propriety.

Chapter 39

+25 BONUS

“My King.” Victoria’s voice shatters the moment. She enters with an entourage of noble wolves, somehow making the healing wing look like a royal court. “Such dedication, checking on the wounded personally.”

Her eyes flick dismissively over Sage. “Though perhaps we should discuss more… appropriate arrangements for caring for our warriors? Traditional methods from proper pack healers?”

I feel Sage’s hurt even as she straightens her spine. Before I can respond, one of my injured men groans.

“The pain’s finally easing,” he manages. “Whatever was in that last poultice…”

Victoria’s eyes narrow. “Clearly our traditional healers have found a solution.”

“Actually,” the warrior says, “it was-”

“It doesn’t matter who mixed the herbs,” Sage interrupts quietly. “Only that they help.”

The silence that follows speaks volumes. She’s protecting the healers‘ pride, knowing they’d rather suffer than admit using her suggestion.

Something in my chest aches at her quiet strength.

“How diplomatic,” Victoria purrs. “Though one wonders why a… guest… feels qualified to comment on pack healing at all. Especially one with such… uncertain origins.”

The temperature in the room drops as my beast rises. “Careful.”

“I merely speak out of concern for the pack.” Victoria bows slightly. “These are dangerous times. We must be… selective… about who we trust with our warriors‘ lives.”

The challenge hangs in the air. I could shut her down with Alpha power, but that would only confirm her accusations about Sage affecting my judgment.

Before I can decide, Sage speaks: “Trust should be earned by actions, not bloodlines.” Her voice is soft but carries clearly. “Judge me by my results. That’s all I ask.”