Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Lance’s POV
“Enter.”
The command left my lips before the knock had fully faded.
The door creaked open without hesitation. Alaric stepped into the room. “Your itinerary, my king.”
I took the folded parchment from his hand and gestured for him to wait.
“Thank you, Ric.”
He stepped aside, hands folded behind his back like he had been forged into that shape. I leaned further onto the desk. The fire had long since died in the hearth, but I hadn’t summoned anyone to reignite it. He must have thought why because he looked at the hearth longer than usual.
My eyes swept over the list of appointments, most of them dull: a brief with my war tactician, trade reports, a hunting game with the blonde alpha, and a few complaints from the outer provinces I would never address unless they grew teeth. It was more of a punishment to Lazarus. They were all appointments I knew of until my eyes fell upon an entry that made me stop.
Oh…you must be kidding me.
I dropped the parchment on the desk and leaned back in my chair, the tips of my fingers steepled in front of my lips. Well, if it was here, it must be something.
“Ric,” I called.
He stepped forward immediately. “Yes, my king?”
“What is this?” I tapped the third entry on the page—‘Supper with the Howling Crest Pack - 9 PM’. The ink glared up at me like a taunt.
Alaric leaned in slightly, squinting. “I don’t understand, Alpha.”
“Neither do I.” My voice was calm though. Now what? Why in the hell am I seeing this name again within the span of two days?
Alaric hesitated. “My king… I thought you had already approved it. There were no discrepancies on the finalized schedule.”
I stared at the entry again. Supper. With them. Of all the packs crawling through the dirt, why that one?
“Why? I don’t remember agreeing to any meeting, let alone a supper. I received no invitation. No correspondence. Nothing.”
“If you’ll look at your table, my king,” Alaric gestured toward the mountain of papers to my right, “you’ll find the original and follow-up letters. Now I think of it, we’d received something like that a few weeks back.”
I scanned the desk. A lot of envelopes had come in during the course of four weeks back, but most I was familiar with.
“May I help, my King?"
"No. Don't touch anything." I knew where to search it seems.
I stood slowly while the chair groaned beneath me, and approached the mess of parchment. My fingers combed through half-sealed fills, torn envelopes, and marked reports until finally—there it was. Two envelopes, side by side. One stamped, one signed.
My signature. I must have missed examining this carefully. Moreover, the date stated it had been three weeks ago, that was before the auction too.
I must have stamped it during my episode then, to not have a recollection. It wasn't the first time such things happened.
Well, lucky them.
“Is something wrong, my king?” Alaric asked. But I know he’d guessed it.
I stared at the seal like it had betrayed me.
“…No,” I replied flatly.
Alaric exhaled, only slightly.
“We could always cancel,” he offered. “Give them a reason—internal conflict, emergency meetings—or we may simply just decline, you've done that in the past, my king.”
“No.” I cut him off sharply. “The date on this says tomorrow. We cancel now, and the message will bleed to our allies: that we are disorganized or… afraid.” Though that was merely just an excuse of mine.
He nodded once, slowly. “Understood.”
Now, why in the hell would Alpha Landon—her ex—suddenly request an alliance with a Lycan territory? A meeting, no less. Either he was stupid, desperate, or both. Regardless, the audacity amused me. Disgusted me too, and to think…nah.
He was stepping onto my territory, not just literally, but into the reach of my claws. Maybe I’ll gain from this after all. Brilliant.
“Have we heard back from Alpha Kane?” I asked.
“No, my king.”
“Make it your priority. The moment we receive word, I want to be informed. If he agrees to our terms, the impact will be… monumental.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
“Hmmm.”
I held the letters in my hand and stepped toward the massive window at the far end of the office. Outside, the court path curved along a winding stretch of green, and there she was, walking beside the palace doctor, head slightly tilted as she spoke to her. I tried to listen in but thought against it.
So she had accepted her fate.
Good.
A thought came into my mind and suddenly, I found the idea of this meeting satisfying.
“What was the doctor’s report after Kayla visits with her?” I asked, not turning.
Alaric rifled through the documents. “I have it here, Alpha… I believe I—ah, yes.” He stepped forward, handing me the parchment.
I scanned the contents. Why does she write so horribly? I could barely understand anything here.
I exhaled.
“What a reunion it’s going to be,” I murmured.
Alaric raised a brow. “My king?”
“Nothing that concerns you.” I turned from the window, “You’ll oversee the preparations personally for our incoming guests.”
“Understood.”
“Everything must be flawless. No mistakes.”
“Yes, my king.”
“And I want security doubled.”
Alaric blinked. “Do you believe their visit poses a threat?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I said, walking past him. “Just do as I say.”
“Yes, my king.”
I paused near the decanter at the far end of the room and poured myself some whiskey. The scent burned as much as the taste. Perfect.
“Oh. I nearly forgot,” Alaric added. “Miss Vivian has taken up residence in one of the guest rooms.”
I turned my head slowly. “What?”
“I assumed you approved her stay.”
I hadn't. Of course, I hadn’t. But that mattered little to me.
“No problem.” I waved a hand. “You can leave now.”
Alaric bowed. “Thank you, my king. But… there’s one more thing. The family.”
“What family?” I narrowed my gaze.
“The counselor, my king. His condition is deteriorating quickly in the cells. The guards are hesitant to intervene. They fear overstepping, in case you had something… planned.”
I took another sip, letting the heat carve its way down my throat.
“And his wife?” I asked casually.
“She and the children have been coming daily. Begging for an audience with you.”
I laughed once. A hollow, sharp sound. “You worry too much. Tell me, when was the last time you had a good fuck? You never agree to one in my presence."
"That's because I live to serve you." The response was immediate and practiced.
Same old words. It has always been like that with him.
“You need someone,” I muttered. “Woman. Man. Whatever your flavor. Someone to wet your cock for once in your life.”
"I have no need for that, Alpha.”
I lowered my glass on the desk. “You know,” I said slowly, “the counselor’s wife is still quite… ripe. Still pretty much young. Beautiful too. I’ve seen”
He paled.
“Bwahaha! Oh, you should’ve seen your face. Well, whatever you wish, but you can always think back to my offer—should you change your mind, she’s all yours.”
“Thank you, Alpha.”
“Before you go… give him a message. Two, actually.”
He paused.
“Tell the counselor whatever method he’s using to kill himself, he should hurry. However, if he dies… I’ll have reason to unleash the full weight of his sins on his wife and children. And tell the guards,” I added, “if he dies on their watch… they die too. And call in the doctor for me, would you.”
“Yes, my king.” Alaric left swiftly.