The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 196

Lyra

The eastern border of our territory lies closest to civilization—though "close" still means a half-day's trek through dense forest. I travel light, wearing the simple brown clothing that will help me blend in if I encounter outsiders. The herbs Elder Thalia gave me hang in a pouch around my neck, their scent both comforting and grounding.

By midday, I reach the ridge that marks our territorial boundary. From here, I can see the sprawling royal lands in the distance, the castle spires just visible on the horizon. I've only seen the castle in drawings—a forbidden place where those who would exterminate us reign.

I settle behind a fallen log, prepared to watch and wait. Hours pass with nothing but the usual forest sounds—birds calling, small animals rustling in the underbrush. Just as I'm considering changing position, voices drift up from the path below.

"—sure they're still in these parts?" a male voice asks. "It's been generations."

"The old texts are specific," a second voice answers, this one female and cultured. "The healing enclaves hid in these mountains after the purges. And recent reports confirm unusual activity."

I freeze, hardly daring to breathe.

"What exactly does the princess want with them?" the first voice asks.

"That's not your concern," the woman replies sharply. "Your job is to map potential locations without drawing attention. The royal Choosing Gala provides perfect cover—all eyes on the palace while we complete our work."

The Choosing Gala? I've heard whispers of this—a traditional event where the heir to the throne selects potential mates. Is that happening now?

"And if we find them?" the man asks.

A pause. "Then we proceed as instructed. The princess has plans that require certain... individuals."

The voices move away, continuing down the path. I wait until I can no longer hear them before slipping from my hiding place, following at a safe distance. I need to learn more about these strangers and what this "princess" wants with our people.

The path leads to a small clearing where royal guards patrol occasionally—a boundary rarely crossed by my people. To my surprise, I spot two guards engaged in casual conversation, clearly off-duty. I conceal myself within earshot.

"—can't believe it's finally happening," one says, leaning against a tree. "The prince actually agreeing to the Choosing Gala."

"Agreeing is generous," the other laughs. "More like resigned. You've seen how he looks when they discuss potential matches."

"Can you blame him? After what his parents went through? The king nearly lost everything to be with his true mate."

"True mates are rare," the first guard says dismissively. "Prince Alexander will do what's expected—choose a politically advantageous match and secure the throne before his coronation."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify