Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Kayla's POV
"What are these for?" I asked, running my fingers over the closest gown, a deep emerald silTha
The older servant gave me a measured look. "His Majesty requests you wear one of these tonight.”
I frowned. "Why?”
"We were only ordered to have you ready,” the younger servant whispered, excitement coloring her voice before the older one shot her a warning glance.
She must be new to not have been used to that glare.
Playing dress-up, huh? My ex-husband had never bothered with such pretenses, he'd barely acknowledged my existence most days, let alone cared what I wore to functions.
What could he be after? Things had been tense since my little disappearance two days ago. My guard no longer met my eyes, nor said a word after greeting. I couldn't blame him, I'd probably put him in a difficult position during the incident. Sheesh. My one way of finding an escape route already caught off before I could utilize it.
I still wasn't sure who had orchestrated my blackout—Cartier with his honeyed words or Vivian. Either way, I couldn't trust anyone here. There are those who hate me and those too loyal to their king.
If that's the case, I could just find another way.
Nonetheless, now there was the matter of the physician. Curse me. I seem to attract more problems. I needed to find another way out. Soon.
"Which dress would you prefer, my lady?" the older one asked, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.
I glanced at the options spread before me. The emerald would stand out too much. The burgundy seemed too formal. My eyes settled on a midnight blue gown with subtle silver embroidery along the neckline.
"That one," I said, pointing.
The servants moved efficiently, helping me bathe and dress. And in no time, I was shoved into a chair in front of the mirror.
"You look beautiful, my lady," the younger servant said as she fastened my hair into a well-made updo.
I studied my reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back seemed stronger somehow, more refined than the frightened creature who'd been sold at auction weeks ago. If only I never received that news. If only I was whole, starting all over again wouldn't be so hard.
A sharp knock silenced the idle chatter of the servants. The door swung open without waiting for permission, revealing Lance’s right-hand man. Alaric was it?
"Leave us," he commanded, and the servants scurried out with quick curtsies.
Once alone, his cold gaze settled on me. "I expected less.”
I bit back a retort. No need to antagonize him further.
"The guest arriving tonight is not to be taken lightly," he stated. "And so is your role as the King’s bride.”
So it’s a guest.
"Why am I being included in this…?" I wasn't sure what to call it.
"Because you are—unfortunately—our Alpha's recognized Bride. He may not have presented you to the council yet, but the news of you already reached many. So it is expected that your presence is needed." His expression hardened. "But let me be perfectly clear. You're not allowed to get involved in whatever is discussed and will only be by Our King’s side.”
I knew he never liked the idea of me. Wondered if this was his own doing or was ordered by that prick.
"I'm simply to sit there and look pretty, then?" I asked, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
"Precisely. Speak only when spoken to. Answer directly but briefly. And most importantly—" he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, "—act like the bride of our Alpha. I hope you can at least pretend convincingly." He turned to leave, then paused at the door. "Your guard will escort you to the dining hall at seven. Do not be late."
I'd arrived precisely on time, but Lance was already there, resplendent in formal attire that emphasized his broad shoulders and commanding presence. Despite everything, my breath caught momentarily at the sight of him. He was undeniably magnificent, with those sensual lips against the rim of a wine glass.
The mark on my neck instinctively twitched even while covered with makeup and I refused the urge to reach for it.
I should be resisting this man and plotting my escape, not playing dress up and desiring him. I have no life here, the moment he finds out that I can give him what he wants, I will be a pile of bones.
Still…
Kayla!
Shit. What the hell was I even thinking?
His eyes flicked to me, assessing. But said no word as I settled into the chair next to his side.
Oh, well…this won’t be any better.
"The guest approaches," the guard announced and Lance straightened. I followed suit, smoothing my dress nervously. The large double doors swung open, and a contingent of guards halted while a rather tall figure strode into the room with easy confidence.
The guest was not what I had expected. Where Lance was all harsh angles and cold intimidation, he was smooth charm and easy smiles. His blonde hair fell in casual waves, his green eyes twinkling with amusement as he approached.
"Alpha Lance,” he greeted, clasping Lance's forearm in a traditional warrior's greeting. "Thanks for having me."
"My pleasure, Alpha Kane.” Lance's voice remained neutral, though I detected a slight tension in his jaw.
The Alpha—Kane's gaze slid to me, a slow smile spreading across his face. "And this must be your bride. The rumors hardly do her justice."
So there were rumors…I’d thought Alaric was exaggerating.
Lance's hand came to rest on my lower back and I nearly stiffened. "My Bride, Kayla. Kayla, this is Alpha Kane Sullivan of the Eastern Territories."
I dipped into a curtsy. "Alpha Sullivan. Welcome."
"Please, call me Kane," he replied, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. His eyes never left mine as he pressed a kiss to my knuckles, lingering just long enough to be inappropriate.
Lance's fingers tightened against my back.
"Shall we dine?" Lance suggested.
The time that passed was anything but comforting, and I could hardly focus on the meal. The conversation flowed mainly between the two Alphas, discussing territory matters, and an agreement even with my focus couldn't interpret, something that involved league of some sort. But even at that, there was the occasional veiled threat disguised as diplomacy. In general, there was nothing to prove whether they were friends or foes.
Whenever Lance was distracted with servants or wine, Kane would offer me a private smile, as if we shared some secret.
"So, Kayla," Kane said during a lull in the conversation, "I hear you're a werewolf. This must be…new. How are you finding life as a Lycan King’s Bride?"
Lance didn't so much as bat an eye.
"It's... an adjustment," I answered carefully. "But a welcoming one.”
Kane chuckled. "Diplomatic answer. I can see why Lance chose you."
If only he knew the truth—that Lance hadn't chosen me at all. We'd been thrust together by fate's cruel joke, bound by a mating link neither of us wanted.
"And how are you settling into the pack’s Castle?" Kane continued, ignoring what his question might bring. "It can be... restrictive... for those not born to our ways."
There was something in his tone, an offer, perhaps, that made me glance up sharply. His eyes held a message I couldn't quite decipher.
"My bride is adapting well," Lance interrupted smoothly. "She understands her place."
My place. As if I were a piece of furniture to be positioned according to his whims.
Kane's smile never faltered. "Of course. Though sometimes a gentler hand is required when introducing wolves to our customs." He looked directly at me. "Especially ones as delicate and valuable as your bride."
I’d not like how this was turning.
I cleared my throat. "If you'll excuse me."
Lance gave a curt nod, and I escaped the suffocating tension, following a servant's directions down a long hallway. After refreshing myself, I took a moment to gather my thoughts before heading back.
Then I rounded a corner.
"Alone at last," Kane murmured, his voice silky. "I was beginning to think I wouldn't get the chance to speak with you privately."
I took an instinctive step back. "Alpha Sullivan—"
"Kane," he corrected, advancing slowly. "I meant what I said earlier. You are wasted here."
"I should return to dinner," I said, attempting to step around him. I wasn't about to have my head decapitated.
He blocked me. "Not yet. At least before you go, accept this.”
A card. My heart pounded in my chest. Was this a trap? A test of my loyalty? Fuck loyalty.
"Should you ever find yourself in need of protection, or simply desiring a change of scenery, my territory is always open to you. No questions asked."
I stared at the card, embossed with a silver wolf's head and a series of numbers. An escape route? Or a different kind of trap?
I snatched the card before I could allow myself to speak.
I wasn't sure what I was doing but it may come in handy and until I can think properly, I’ll have it.
"Good choice.” He smiled.
“I should—”
Low footfalls echoed down the corridor. Kane stepped back smoothly, his expression shifting to casual amusement as Lance appeared at the end of the hallway.
With trembling fingers, I slipped the card into a hidden pocket of my dress just as Lance reached us.