The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 236

**TITLE: Never Love 236**
**Alexander’s Healing Half**

As I weave my way through the labyrinthine corridors of the ventilation system, an unyielding force pulls me toward the East Wing, where the ritual chamber awaits. It is here that my Alpha half is ensnared, grappling against the harsh bindings imposed upon him. With each passing moment, I can feel the pulsating energies swirling around me—ancient magics, steeped in power, striving to override the sacred bonds that should never be tampered with. They seek to forge connections where none should exist, a violation of the very fabric of our being.

Drawing closer, I can almost touch the raw determination radiating from my other half, my Alpha essence, as he fights against the encroaching darkness. His spirit is a blazing fire, fiercely resisting the forced binding that seeks to claim him. I can sense his awareness as I approach, a flicker of desperate hope igniting within him at the thought of our impending reunification, yet there’s also an urgent warning echoing in my mind about the ritual’s advanced state.

Emerging from a ventilation opening nestled near the ceiling of the ritual chamber, I find myself cloaked in a semi-translucent form, likely invisible to those engrossed in the ceremony below. The sight that greets me confirms our darkest fears: my Alpha half is kneeling within a silver circle, his body restrained yet his spirit defiant. Opposite him stands Selene, her face a canvas of conflicting emotions, while Vega, the orchestrator of this chaos, chants binding words, her voice weaving through the air as moonlight converges directly onto the circle’s center.

Time is slipping away; the ritual teeters on the brink of completion. I can see the silver threads of magic, sinister and insidious, attempting to extract my Alpha essence, to draw it across the circle toward Selene. My other half fights valiantly, using the mate bond as his sole anchor against the relentless extraction.

But it’s a losing battle. Without immediate physical intervention, the ritual will succeed, rendering his resistance futile. I must reach Lyra and guide her here before the moonlight alignment culminates. With a heart pounding with urgency, I concentrate on our bond, sending the most desperate message I can muster: Hurry. East Wing. Third door. Moonlight chamber.

From somewhere below, through layers of stone and wood, I feel her response—a surge of determination, movement, and the amulet’s power amplifying our connection. She’s on her way. But will she arrive in time to save us?

A decision looms before me, one fraught with peril. If I reveal myself, if I attempt to physically disrupt the ritual, I might hasten my own fading into oblivion. Yet, if I remain passive, both halves of me will be lost, swallowed by the darkness that encroaches.

With resolve hardening within me, I draw upon every particle of healing energy that constitutes my form, channeling it into the most substantial manifestation I can conjure. Just as Vega reaches the ritual’s crescendo, I descend from the ceiling vent in a cascade of pale violet light—the healing essence of Alexander Sterling, momentarily illuminated in a dazzling display.

“Stop!” I command, my voice lacking the authoritative timbre of an Alpha but infused with a different kind of power—the healing resonance that calms, restores, and mends what has been broken.

Every head snaps upward, shock and disbelief etched across their faces as they behold the impossible—the missing half of the Lycan heir, manifested in radiant form above the ritual circle.

“Alexander?” Selene gasps, her voice a tumult of recognition and confusion.

In that fleeting moment of distraction, my Alpha half seizes the opportunity, our eyes locking in perfect understanding. Together, as if we had never been severed, we focus on strengthening our shared connection to Lyra, fortifying the mate bond that intertwines our fates.

The ritual falters, Vega’s concentration fracturing. “The healing essence,” she snarls, disbelief lacing her tone. “Impossible! It should have dispersed by now!”

“You understand nothing about true balance,” I retort, my form flickering as I expend precious energy to maintain my visibility. “Split us apart, and we will always find our way back to each other. That is the true meaning of the prophecy you’ve twisted to serve your own ends.”

As if summoned by my words, the chamber door bursts open, revealing Lyra standing in the threshold, the spiral amulet ablaze with silver light against her chest. Elara stands beside her, her eyes glowing violet, charged with unleashed power.

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