The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 207

Alexander

Scattered across my desk lay a series of reports, each one more unsettling than the last. For the past hour, I had been poring over intelligence gathered by our border patrols—accounts of unfamiliar figures asking probing questions about healing bloodlines, mapping out remote regions rumored to shelter secret healing communities, and, in one troubling instance, a chase through the dense forest near the eastern boundary.

“This can’t just be a coincidence,” I said to Dominic, who stood silently by the window, his face shadowed with concern. “Not with the Northern delegation suddenly showing such intense interest in the prophecy, especially their pointed questions about Elara’s abilities.”

“Do you think they’re connected?” he asked, though his voice betrayed that he’d already drawn the same conclusion I had.

Running a hand through my hair in frustration, I replied, “Three separate sightings of strangers wearing Northern colors near places where healing enclaves might be hidden—all during the very week they arrived with prophecy texts mentioning both Elara and me? No, Dominic. This isn’t happenstance. It’s orchestrated.”

Dominic stepped closer to the large map pinned on the wall, marked with the locations of the reported sightings. “What’s your plan, then?”

“I have to see it for myself,” I said, the decision firming in my mind as I spoke. “These reports are too vague to bring to my father or the council. Without solid proof, it would only stir diplomatic trouble.”

“You want to investigate on your own,” Dominic stated, not questioning but acknowledging my resolve. “That’s dangerous, Alex. With the Gala in full swing and numerous foreign delegations in the palace—”

“It’s the perfect cover,” I interrupted. “Everyone expects me to be tied up in festivities and potential political matches. No one will suspect if I’m gone for a day, especially if you craft a plausible excuse.”

He exhaled heavily, recognizing the tone that meant my mind was made up. “The council will have my head if they find out I let you wander into danger.”

“That’s why they won’t find out,” I said as I moved toward my wardrobe, searching for clothes suitable for traveling unnoticed. “We’ll take two horses, leave all royal insignia behind, and travel as merchants. The eastern border outpost is only half a day’s ride.”

“We?” Dominic raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t think I’d leave you behind, did you?” I smiled. “I’ll need someone to pull me out of trouble when I inevitably stumble into it.”

“As if that’s ever worked,” he muttered, but I caught the reluctant acceptance in his voice. “What’s our story when we get to the outpost?”

“We’re traders scouting new supply routes, concerned about rumors of unusual activity that might disrupt business.” I pulled out a simple leather jerkin and sturdy riding clothes—plain attire fit for any moderately successful merchant. “Captain Merrick commands the outpost. He’s loyal to my father personally. Once we arrive, we can trust him with the truth.”

Dominic nodded, then asked the question I’d been quietly avoiding. “And Princess Selene? You’re supposed to dance with her again tonight.”

My hands paused mid-motion. Despite my doubts about the Northern delegation’s intentions, I couldn’t deny the strange connection I’d felt with Selene during our garden conversation. Her words about resonance between our bloodlines, the potential for something powerful—those ideas matched the prophecy too closely to ignore.

“I’ll talk to my mother,” I decided. “She can arrange a diplomatic excuse—something urgent but unremarkable enough that no one will press further.”

“And if you uncover proof linking the Northern delegation to this?” Dominic’s gaze was steady.

“Then I’ll know exactly what game Princess Selene is playing,” I said with quiet determination.

Before dawn, we slipped out of the palace through the service entrance used by suppliers. The eastern road was cloaked in mist, tendrils weaving through the tall trees lining the royal lands. Dressed in our merchant clothes, with swords hidden at our hips but no royal markings, we could have been any travelers conducting kingdom business.

“You’re brooding,” Dominic remarked as we rode side by side through a dense stretch of forest. “Second thoughts about this expedition?”

“No,” I answered, though his question pulled me from my troubled thoughts. “I’m thinking about the prophecy—the new passages about division and restoration. There’s something about them that resonates deep inside me, something I can’t fully explain.”

Dominic considered this. “The nightmares you’ve been having—the ones where you’re torn in two.”

“None so far. These enclaves—if they exist—have remained hidden for generations. But…” Merrick’s voice dropped. “Two nights ago, there was a disturbance. My patrol heard a chase through the forest, followed by the sounds of a larger movement—as if an entire settlement was relocating in haste.”

My stomach clenched. “They’re hunting the healers,” I said, the cold certainty settling over me. “But why?”

“There’s more,” Merrick added reluctantly. “One of my scouts found this.” He retrieved a small silver medallion from a drawer and placed it on the desk. Its design was unfamiliar—an intricate knot pattern encircling a crescent moon.

“Northern craftsmanship,” Dominic identified immediately. “But not their official insignia.”

I picked up the medallion, turning it slowly in my palm. Something about the symbol tugged at my memory, like a word hovering just beyond reach.

“I want to see where this was discovered,” I said firmly, “and the site of the disturbance.”

Merrick looked uneasy. “Sire, that area lies deep within the eastern forest. If healers truly hide there—”

“They have nothing to fear from me,” I interrupted. “My mother is of healing blood, Captain. I carry that legacy myself.”

I would die before I allowed harm to come to them, not after the way my mother’s pack was hunted and destroyed. Yet, as I stared down at the strange medallion in my hand, a cold dread settled over me. I feared someone else had already crossed that line.

Cara Anderson

Author

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