The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 224

**Chapter 224**

**Lyra**

The hidden chamber envelops me in a strange duality, a place that feels like both a refuge and a confinement. Time drags on, each moment stretching painfully, as if the very air is thick with the weight of my solitude. My injuries throb with a relentless rhythm, a cruel reminder of the hasty treatment Alexander and I managed to administer before he was forced to leave. Yet, the physical pain is a mere whisper compared to the deep, gnawing ache of separation that claws at my heart. The mate bond between us is like a shimmering silver thread, taut and alive, pulsing with every tick of the clock, offering both solace and torment—a constant reminder of the destiny we were meant to share, now cruelly snatched away by circumstance.

I find myself pacing the small, circular space, my footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. The chamber, built high within one of the palace’s towering structures, feels both claustrophobic and strangely safe. A narrow bed hugs one wall, its thin mattress offering little comfort. In the center stands a modest table flanked by two chairs, their surfaces worn from use. A fireplace flickers softly, casting dancing shadows that play across the room, providing warmth and the means to prepare simple meals or heat water. The shelves lining the walls are stocked with basic provisions—preserved food, medical supplies, candles, and blankets—all hinting at a design meant for prolonged seclusion if the need arises.

There are no windows to offer a glimpse of the outside world, only a narrow ventilation shaft, too small for anything but air to slip through. The single door is concealed seamlessly, just as it was on the other side. I am utterly hidden, completely secure, and yet profoundly isolated.

With the silence pressing in around me, I once more survey my injuries. The cut on my leg has ceased its bleeding, a small mercy granted by Alexander’s hurried healing before I stopped him. My ribs protest with every deep breath, but the binding Dominic provided offers some measure of stability, a lifeline in my pain. Logic tells me to rest, to conserve my strength for whatever trials lie ahead, but my mind races, a tempest of anxiety and fear, contemplating every possible outcome—both the hopeful and the disastrous.

What is Alexander doing right now? Is he still pretending that Selene could be his mate? Does she sense that he knows her true intentions? And what of my people? Did they manage to escape safely from the settlement, or have Selene’s forces captured some during the chaos? Each thought is a jagged shard of worry that cuts deeper into my heart.

The amulet rests heavily against my chest, its silver warmth a constant reminder of Elder Thalia’s ominous warnings. I lift it from around my neck, examining it more closely in the flickering firelight. The spiral pattern etched into the metal mirrors my own birthmark, a strange connection that sends a shiver down my spine. The symbols carved into its surface are ancient, their meanings lost to me. Yet, as I hold it, I can’t shake the feeling that it strengthens the bond I share with Alexander, amplifying the connection that already exists between us.

Suddenly, a sound at the hidden door freezes me in my tracks. I quickly tuck the amulet back beneath my tunic and grasp the small knife Dominic left for my protection, positioning myself strategically to gain the advantage of surprise if an intruder enters.

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