The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 235

**TITLE: Never Love 235**

**Chapter 235**

*+25 Bonus*

**Alexander’s Healing Half**

In a secluded corner of the Old Tower, far from prying eyes, I awaken to a world that feels both foreign and familiar. My eyelids flutter open, revealing a reality that seems to shimmer around me. My body, or what remains of it, feels almost ethereal—an ephemeral glow surrounds me, a soft light that outlines my form but lacks the solidity I once knew. I am Alexander, yet I am only a fragment of myself, a mere shadow of the Alpha I used to be, all thanks to Selene’s dark ritual.

Kneeling beside me, Lyra reaches out, her hands gliding through my almost ghostly figure as she attempts to help me rise. The warmth of her touch is a comfort, grounding me even in this strange state. Nearby, Elara stands frozen, her violet eyes wide with disbelief, grappling with the sight of her brother torn asunder.

“It was Selene,” I manage to articulate, my voice softer than usual, lacking the commanding timbre of my Alpha presence. “The potion they administered… it caused this splitting. I—I’m only half of who I am now.”

“Your Alpha half,” Lyra interjects, her expression shifting from concern to understanding. “They’ve taken it for the binding ritual.”

I nod slowly, a sense of eerie calm washing over me despite the gravity of the situation. Without my Alpha essence, the fierce emotions that usually roil within me—rage, protectiveness—have been dulled, replaced by a profound sense of compassion and an instinct to heal. “They aim to bind my Alpha essence to Selene’s bloodline, believing it will fulfill their twisted interpretation of the prophecy by eradicating this healing half they deem corrupt.”

“Eradicate?” Elara echoes, her voice tinged with alarm. “You mean…”

“I’m fading,” I confirm, glancing down at my hands, which are becoming increasingly transparent. “Without my Alpha half, this healing essence cannot maintain its corporeal form indefinitely. If Selene’s people complete their ritual, binding my Alpha essence to her bloodline, there will be no hope for us to reunite.”

“How long do we have?” Lyra asks, her worry palpable, the mate bond between us thrumming with her distress.

“Three days,” I reply, the knowledge surfacing from deep within this healing aspect of myself, as if it were instinctual. “Three days before both halves perish—the Alpha essence from being tethered to an incompatible vessel, and the healing essence from a lack of anchoring strength.”

“We have to reach the Cave of Whispers,” Elara insists, determination in her voice. “We need to uncover the true prophecy, to find a way to reverse this.”

I shake my head, urgency flooding my thoughts. “There’s no time for that. The binding ritual is set to occur at the moon’s apex. If they succeed, the possibility of reunification will vanish, regardless of what we may discover in the Cave.”

“Then we must stop the ritual first,” Lyra declares, her healer’s practicality coming to the forefront. “Where is it taking place?”

I close my eyes, concentrating on the tenuous connection I still feel to my Alpha half. “The East Wing. There’s a chamber I’ve never encountered before, with an opening in the ceiling designed to capture the moonlight.” I hesitate for a moment, then add, “And I believe… I believe my Alpha half is trying to reach out to me. He’s attempting to communicate.”

“Through the mate bond,” Lyra realizes, her expression shifting with comprehension. “I feel it too—a pull, a direction.”

Elara moves towards the concealed door, checking to ensure our escape route remains unobstructed. “We need to navigate to the East Wing without drawing attention. The palace is in disarray after the Gala, but the Northern delegation will have guards stationed throughout.”

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