The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 252

**Never Love 252**

Alexander

I feel whole. The sensation washes over me like a cascade of warm water, soothing and revitalizing, as if my very essence is being restored. The war within me, the constant struggle between my Alpha instincts and my healing nature, has finally reached a serene balance. Each aspect of who I am now complements the other, weaving together rather than competing for supremacy. After enduring the torment of separation, living as only a fraction of myself, the relief of being reunited is so overwhelming that it nearly renders me speechless.

I find myself standing unsteadily in the clearing just outside the Northern stronghold, the night air cool and refreshing against my skin. The moonlight casts a silvery glow over our unexpected rescue party, illuminating their determined faces. My body feels paradoxically invigorated yet utterly drained, a powerful energy coursing through me in unpredictable surges, as if my rejoined essence is still settling back into its physical form.

Yet, beneath this wave of relief lies a disconcerting sense of wrongness that pierces through the joy—the bond I share with Lyra flickers like a candle in a tempest, sometimes burning brightly, other times dimming to a barely perceptible glow. Each fluctuation sends sharp pangs of pain lancing through my chest, as if someone is mercilessly severing and then reforging the delicate silver thread that connects us.

It’s Vega’s contingency spell. Her final act of malice upon realizing she could not prevent our reunion. The thought of her escape gnaws at me, but the true weight of her actions lies in the damage she has inflicted upon my bond with Lyra.

I glance over at her now, watching as she assists Elara in gathering supplies for our journey back to the Cave of Whispers. Even amidst the instability of our bond, she remains the most exquisite sight I have ever beheld—strength and compassion intertwined in a way that is uniquely hers. A healer who traversed enemy territory to save me. The mate that fate has chosen for me, the woman I have kept at a distance for reasons that now seem utterly foolish.

Why did I resist this connection? Why did I squander precious moments denying what my soul recognized the instant I laid eyes on her in that forest clearing?

She turns to me, catching my gaze, and a fleeting smile graces her lips, despite the worry that clouds her eyes. In that instant, the bond flares momentarily, a surge of warmth and rightness that makes the subsequent dimming all the more agonizing.

I stride toward her, urgency propelling me forward. My body may be weary from the ordeal, but my resolve has never been more steadfast.

“Lyra,” I say, taking her hands in mine, feeling the warmth of her skin against my own. “There’s something I need to share with you before we proceed any further.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, uncertainty mingling with concern in her expression. “Alexander, you should rest. The reunification has taken a toll on you, and with the bond fluctuating—”

“That’s precisely why I can’t wait,” I gently interject, urgency lacing my tone. “I’ve already wasted far too much time resisting what I knew the moment I first saw you in that clearing.”

Understanding dawns in her eyes as I continue, “I accepted the mate bond when I desperately needed your help, when I was literally torn apart. But I should have embraced it—embraced you—from the very beginning.”

At my words, the bond pulses between us, momentarily strengthening as if responding to this newfound acknowledgment. I step closer, my hand rising to cup her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my palm.

“No more resistance. No more prioritizing duty over destiny.” My voice drops to a whisper, meant solely for her ears, even as our companions prepare to depart nearby. “If this bond is in jeopardy, I want to ensure that we have claimed every moment we can share, starting now.”

Before she can respond, I lean down, finally doing what I have longed to do since our first meeting—I kiss her. I pour every unspoken emotion into this connection, a language that transcends words. The silver thread between us ignites with intensity at the contact, the pain momentarily forgotten as something far more powerful surges through our bond.

Her surprise lasts but a heartbeat before she reciprocates, her arms wrapping around my neck as she rises on tiptoes to meet me fully. The kiss deepens, a beautiful blend of exploration and claiming, the mate bond singing between us despite its fragile state.

When we finally part, both breathless, I rest my forehead against hers, feeling the warmth radiating from her. “I’m sorry it took being literally torn apart for me to recognize what truly matters.”

She smiles, the worry in her eyes now balanced with a flicker of joy, even amidst the precariousness of our situation. “Better late than never, Your Highness.”

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