The Lycan King's Outcast Omega (by Cara Anderson) novel Chapter 266

**TITLE: Never Love 266**
**Chapter 266**

**Lyra**

The council chambers loom large within the palace, a realm of dark wood and solemnity, where the air is thick with unspoken tension. As I make my entrance, the lively chatter that once filled the room comes to a sudden halt, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. At the head of a lengthy table, cluttered with maps and documents that hint at the weight of our current crisis, stands Alexander. His demeanor is one of exhaustion, yet he commands the space with an undeniable authority. A flicker of relief crosses his features when our eyes meet.

“Lyra, thank you for coming,” he says, his voice steady as he gestures for me to approach. “The council is in need of insights regarding Vega’s capabilities and potential locations.”

As I step deeper into the room, I can feel the weight of a dozen gazes scrutinizing me, each one a judgment of my worthiness to be here. Most faces reflect skepticism, some even hostility, while only Dominic and Elara offer me warm, encouraging smiles amidst the assembled advisors.

“Surely, there are more reliable sources of intelligence than a… healer,” one council member interjects, the pause before the word “healer” hangs in the air like a veiled insult.

“You would do well to remember that my mother, your queen, is a healer. As am I,” Alexander retorts sharply, a flicker of his Alpha authority lacing his tone. “Lyra possesses firsthand knowledge of Vega’s methods. Her insights are invaluable.”

“If I may, Your Highness,” another councilor interjects smoothly, his voice dripping with condescension. “While we appreciate all assistance during this crisis, matters of state security typically remain within… appropriate circles.”

The implication is painfully clear—I do not belong here, not in this discussion, not among these esteemed individuals. I am not trusted, not accepted, and certainly not deemed “appropriate,” despite Alexander’s fervent defense of my presence.

The bond we share wavers painfully as I feel Alexander’s frustration simmering just below the surface. “Lyra stands as my honored guest and advisor,” he asserts firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “Her presence here is not up for debate.”

For the next hour, I find myself fielding questions about Vega’s abilities, the defenses of the Northern stronghold, and the ritual components she might seek for her dark magical workings. Some councilors ask thoughtful, probing questions that suggest they genuinely value my knowledge. Others, however, barely mask their disdain, clearly indulging their prince’s unusual whim in allowing my participation.

When the council finally adjourns, the clock well past midnight, Alexander pulls me aside into a smaller antechamber. Exhaustion etches deep lines on his face, yet concern for my well-being dominates his expression.

“I apologize for their behavior,” he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Many on the council hail from old families with traditional views about healers and their roles in our society…”

“About a commoner presuming to advise royalty?” I finish for him, my words sharp with the weight of truth.

He winces, the discomfort flickering across his features. “That’s not how I see you.”

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