The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 265

**Title: Never Love 265**

Dinner unfolds with a suffocating sense of formality that feels almost theatrical. Each course arrives like a meticulously staged performance, and I find myself grappling with a bewildering assortment of utensils, each designed for a different purpose, each glinting under the opulent candlelight. The dishes are foreign to me, a blend of flavors and textures that seem to mock my ignorance. Around me, the court engages in a delicate ballet of conversation, where every word is laced with double meanings, and nothing is ever spoken plainly. Kieran, seated beside me, mirrors my unease. His rigid posture and curt replies betray his discomfort, and I can sense the tension radiating from him like heat from a flame.

Alexander, ever the gracious host, makes an effort to include us in the ongoing dialogues. He weaves through the crowd of nobles, offering context and introductions to those who seem eager to engage. Yet, his attention is perpetually pulled away. Urgent whispers from advisors flit around him like restless spirits, formal greetings demanded by the weight of tradition, and political discussions that insist on being prioritized over the evening’s festivities.

With each departure, I feel our fragile connection stretching, teetering on the edge of discomfort. Across the table, Elara’s gaze is fixed on us, her expression tinged with concern. It’s as if she can sense the strain in the air, her burgeoning abilities allowing her to perceive the unspoken tension between Kieran and me.

“The court will always demand his attention,” Kieran leans closer during one of Alexander’s absences, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is his life, Lyra. Endless politics, endless obligations.”

I nod, feeling the weight of his words settle heavily in my chest. “He’s the heir,” I reply softly, my voice barely above a murmur. “It’s his duty.”

“And where does that leave you?” Kieran’s tone is laced with frustration as he gestures subtly toward my extravagant gown. “Waiting for moments between crises? Trying to fit yourself into these constraints?”

His words hang in the air, and I struggle to find a response that doesn’t sound like a feeble excuse, even to my own ears.

Finally, as the endless dinner draws to a close, Alexander manages to break free from the throng of nobles surrounding him. He approaches my side, his expression a mixture of regret and determination.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “This isn’t how I envisioned your introduction to court.”

“It’s fine,” I assure him, though the words feel hollow, devoid of the warmth I wish to convey. “I understand you have responsibilities.”

“Still,” he continues, his gaze softening as he studies me intently, “I had hoped for a moment to help you adjust.” He glances at my gown. “It suits you, though I can see you’re uncomfortable.”

“It’s… different,” I acknowledge, choosing my words carefully, feeling the weight of his scrutiny.

Just then, a messenger approaches, bowing deeply, his demeanor apologetic. “Your Highness, the council has assembled as you requested. They await your presence urgently.”

Frustration flickers across Alexander’s features for a fleeting moment before his royal composure reasserts itself. “I must go,” he tells me, his voice steady. “The Northern delegation’s actions require an immediate response. I promise I’ll come to you afterward, no matter how late it may be.”

He presses a quick kiss to my hand, the brief contact igniting a spark within our bond that dissipates too quickly as he distances himself. I stand amidst the dispersing guests, a profound sense of loneliness settling over me, more isolating than when I had been fleeing through the forest with soldiers hot on my heels.

“Come,” Kieran murmurs gently, his voice a balm against my turmoil. “Let’s return to our chambers before someone invents more protocol for us to follow.”

—

Back in the confines of our assigned rooms, I waste no time in shedding the heavy layers of my court attire. As the constricting bodice loosens, a gasp of relief escapes my lips, and I revel in the sensation of freedom. Kieran watches me with a blend of amusement and concern, his eyes flicking to the complex fastenings I struggle to undo.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify