The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 247

**TITLE: Never Love 247**

As the tension in the air thickens, Vega’s sharp instincts kick in, and she quickly discerns our intentions. “Stop them!” she barks, her voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. “Krell! Guards! Don’t let them reverse the extraction!” Her command reverberates, igniting urgency among her remaining forces.

Krell, his face twisted in a mix of determination and rage, lunges toward Selene. But before he can reach her, Dominic intercepts him with a fluid motion, their swords clashing with a fierce spark that lights up the dim chamber. The sound echoes ominously, a reminder of the stakes at hand. Meanwhile, Kieran and the other healers form a protective barrier around Elara. Her powers surge forth, a vivid violet aura radiating from her, pushing back the guards who dare to approach. It’s a mesmerizing sight, the very air around her shimmering with energy.

I step forward, my heart pounding, positioning myself at the southern point of the circle. My gaze locks onto Alexander, who is caught in the midst of this turmoil. The amulet around my neck pulses in sync with my heartbeat, resonating with the mate bond we share, a tether that feels both fragile and unbreakable. I place my palm over the spiral birthmark on my shoulder, feeling the warmth beneath my skin. With this gesture, I complete the circuit of power, a silent acknowledgment of the ancient magic that flows through us.

“With amulet, key, and birthmark aligned,” I begin, my voice steadying as if guided by some long-buried wisdom awakening within me. “We call to the divided essence, to Alpha strength and healing grace, to the physical form that houses both.” The words spill from my lips, imbued with a force I didn’t know I possessed.

As I speak, I can see the silver lines of Vega’s extraction ritual begin to tremble, the energy we generate disrupting her carefully orchestrated spell. Alexander’s essence, partially extracted, hovers uncertainly between his corporeal form and the artifact Vega has prepared, caught in a liminal space that feels both agonizing and hopeful.

“By the true prophecy’s decree,” I continue, my voice gaining strength and conviction, “what was torn asunder shall be made whole. What was divided shall be unified. What was broken shall be healed.” Each word feels like a vow, a promise to Alexander and to ourselves.

Around us, power swells, the silver light from the amulet and key intertwining with the violet energy emanating from Elara and the resonance of my birthmark. Together, they create a counter-pattern to Vega’s ritual, forming a new matrix for Alexander’s essence to navigate, a lifeline amidst the chaos.

“No!” Vega shrieks, her composure shattering like glass. There’s no longer any pretense of control; her desperation lays bare. “Centuries of preparation will not be undone by children playing with powers they don’t understand!” Her fury manifests as she slashes her hand through the air, her other hand still weaving the extraction ritual. A dark, viscous substance begins to ooze from her fingertips, cutting across our counter-ritual’s energy pattern like a blade.

“The contingency spell!” Selene warns, her voice rising with urgency. “She’s triggering it early!” The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air, but I have no time to ponder their implications. My focus narrows to the task at hand, the integrity of our counter-ritual becoming my sole priority. The energies—Vega’s extraction, our restoration, and now this new, ominous spell—create a chaotic maelstrom within the ritual circle, a storm of power threatening to spiral out of control.

I can feel Alexander’s physical form convulsing against its restraints, his Alpha essence being pulled in multiple directions at once. Through our bond, I sense his agony, the confusion swirling within him, and the desperate struggle to maintain his coherence against the forces that threaten to tear him apart. It’s a visceral connection, one that makes my heart ache with empathy.

Then, amidst the chaos and pain, I sense something shifting—a stirring, a gathering, a reassembly of fragmented particles that had seemed irretrievably lost. Alexander’s healing essence begins to respond to our counter-ritual, drawn by the strength of our mate bond and the power of the artifacts.

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