The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 216

**TITLE: Never Love 216**

Lyra

As I tread cautiously along the concealed patlis leading back to our secondary encampment, my mind remains ensnared in the tumult of my recent encounter with Alexander. Each step I take feels like a mile, amplifying the distance that now separates us, and with that distance comes a physical ache—a sensation I’ve only ever heard described in the age-old tales of true mates torn apart. The silver bond that ties us stretches taut, a relentless reminder of the fate that has been thrust upon us and the duties that weigh heavily on my heart.

The dream flowers nestled in my basket emit a gentle luminescence, their soft glow pulsating as the sun dips below the horizon. Their fragrance is unusually potent tonight, or perhaps it’s just my heightened senses, awakened by the stirring of the mate bond within me. Regardless, their presence serves as a vivid reminder of my obligations to my people—obligations that now seem to clash violently with the yearning that pulls at my very soul.

Our emergency settlement is cleverly hidden, a sanctuary pressed against a rugged cliff face, where natural caves provide the shelter we so desperately need. Unlike our permanent enclave, this place is stripped down to the essentials, designed for survival rather than comfort. As I draw closer, I can sense the presence of our vigilant watchers—our most skilled scouts positioned strategically to alert the community of any impending threat.

“Lyra,” a familiar voice calls softly from the shadows, pulling me from my reverie. “You’ve been gone longer than expected.”

Emerging from the darkness, Kieran steps forward, his bow slung casually across his back. His striking green eyes scan my face, and I can feel the weight of his scrutiny. He knows me too well; he can read my moods better than anyone else, perhaps even better than Elder Thalia herself.

“I found a patch of dream flowers,” I explain, lifting my basket as if it were proof of my absence. “It took longer than I anticipated to gather enough.”

It’s not a complete lie, just a careful omission of the life-altering encounter that unfolded in that clearing. Guilt knots in my stomach. Kieran deserves honesty, yet this secret is not solely mine to reveal.

“The elders were worried about you,” he says, falling into step beside me as we make our way toward the caves. “There have been more sightings of strangers lurking in the area.”

“Have there been any direct confrontations?” I inquire, my heart quickening at the thought.

He shakes his head, his expression darkening. “Not since the attack on our primary settlement. But there’s been increased activity to the north.”

The memory of Alexander’s words echoes in my mind, chilling my very core. Strangers asking questions about healing bloodlines—this is no mere coincidence. These encounters are part of something much larger, something that intertwines both Alexander’s court and our secluded communities.

Reluctantly, he releases me, a flicker of hurt flashing across his features before he masks it with resolve. “Of course. Go.”

As I hurry through the settlement toward the smaller cave where Elder Thalia has established her quarters, the weight of guilt presses heavily on my chest. Kieran has always been my steadfast ally, his feelings for me apparent to everyone in our community, though he has never voiced them directly. We have always been expected to unite—the two strongest healers of our generation, our bloodlines meant to intertwine through our union. Yet now, with a single fateful encounter, those expectations lie in ruins.

Elder Thalia’s cave is thick with the acrid scent of incense and herb smoke, the air almost suffocating in its intensity. The old woman sits cross-legged before a small fire, her white hair cascading loosely around her shoulders, a stark contrast to her usual braid. The cataracts clouding her eyes do nothing to diminish their piercing gaze, which locks onto me the moment I enter.

“So,” she rasps, her voice hoarse from the smoke. “It has happened.”

I stop in my tracks, clutching my basket of dream flowers as if it could shield me from the weight of her words. “What has happened?”

“Do not feign ignorance, child. I see it upon you—the silver thread of fate. You have met your true mate.” She gestures imperiously for me to sit across from her. “And not just any mate, but the one I have seen in the smoke for years.”