Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Kayla’s POV
Moira tugged the final strap of the dress into place, the fabric tightening around my ribs. I held still as she adjusted the deep crimson sleeves off my shoulders. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror, strange, unfamiliar, but… almost powerful. I bristled at that.
“Have you seen him?” I asked, my voice low.
“Who, my lady?” Moira asked, her fingers pausing for a heartbeat.
“The one being honored tonight.”
Her gaze flickered up to mine in the mirror, a bit too quickly. “No, my lady. I haven't.”
“Hmm,” I said, mostly to myself, my eyes lingering on the blood-red lipstick painted across my lips. I had never worn anything like it before. Bold. Daring. Not me.
But Lance had desired it.
…the moment I thought it, a warm rush coiled beneath my skin, blooming from the place the King’s mark now sat at the base of my neck. I touched it absently, the sensation, strange but not unpleasant, and somehow my wolf seemed to curl in on herself. I wasn't sure what that meant.
Moira caught my eye again and smiled. “You look… remarkably beautiful, my lady.”
I turned from the mirror, properly facing her for once. I rarely ever did. This place never felt like home, not that anywhere ever had. Not really. But she—she had been a good constant. A companion I hadn't earned. I had been so ungrateful, and angry at everything and everyone, and I know I was scared, today especially, but for some reason, I feel relaxed now, so I smiled,
“Thank you,” I said, and meant it.
Moira blinked. “Why is that, my lady?”
I shook my head slightly. “For always being by my side. Even though the King ordered it.”
Her lips curved. “No, my lady. Thank you. For letting me be.” Could she have said those exact words to the other women Lance had brought here? That doesn't matter, I told myself, since those words had made something ease in my chest. A breath I hadn’t known I was holding slipped out.
Two guards stood like stone at the grand double doors of the dining hall when we got there. Moira went ahead, whispering something to the sentry before shifting aside and mouthing a ‘good luck’ to me.
I waited outside, stroking my palms, silently willing the nerves that had suddenly risen to settle.
Then the doors swung open.
Every set of eyes at the grand table turned. I watch Lance rise from his seat. Then, one by one, so did everyone else. I wasn't sure why, not until those words came out of his mouth.
“There you are,” he said calmly and gracefully with a smile, and to the others, “Please welcome to the table, my Luna.”
If my heart hadn't stopped when the door opened, it did now.
The word echoed like a slap across the face, leaving my thoughts blank. I stood frozen at the threshold, staring at him—no, glaring, maybe. My eyes wide, my breath caught.
Lance’s face was unreadable, but there was no frown tonight. Only the proud tilt of his chin and the grace of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. And gods, why did the curve of his shirt have to reveal that perfect sliver of skin over his chest? I forced myself to look away, to focus on literally anything else.
Vivian sat at the table, her ever-present smile laced with something sour. She was forcing it this time. Her eyes glittered, but the mask she wore cracked just enough to betray her fury. Two other men I didn't recognize occupied seats further down.
Then I saw him.
My executioner in mate’s disguise.
The mate who’d sold me off like I meant nothing. Like I wasn't even human to begin with. He was really the one, I hadn't been too anxious for nothing.
I was…I was…
The mark twitched again and I realized myself.
Shit. How long have I been standing? Staring?
Even though fear was there, something like rage twisted in my chest.
I snapped my gaze away. Too late. The moment I registered him, I saw the flicker of recognition, the brief confusion… the shock. And then—
Lance was suddenly in front of me, his body blocking my view. That was when I dared to let go of my breath.
He didn’t say anything. Just reached out and cupped my cheek with a slow, luscious hand. It was gentle and soft and sensual, not the Lance I know. Then his lips brushed mine—just a whisper of contact. Barely a kiss.
“I knew they'd be perfect on you,” he murmured, low enough, but others sure heard him.
I looked up into his eyes, expecting mockery. But there was none. For the first time, they were calm. Focused. Like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing. Then he smiled and I wanted nothing but to be scooped into his hand and away from here.
I swallowed when his lips reached against my ears. “Try not to faint,” he said softly, “and I might just reward you later.”
Something naughty flooded my thoughts. Fuck. What was that?
He smiled and pulled out the chair beside him and I sat down on shaky legs, suddenly remembering where we were. The others followed. One by one, they returned to their seats. The show was over, I might just survive this.
Lance poured me water. I hadn’t realized how parched I was until the cool liquid touched my tongue. I drank carefully, fighting the tremble in my hand.
“Forgive me,” Landon said, voice smooth and apologetic. “Had I known you would be joining us, I would've brought a special gift. I wasn’t aware that the Lycan King had a Luna.”
The two-faced bastard. I almost reached for the steak knife beside my plate.
Instead, I arranged my features into what I hoped was a gracious smile. Now that I could look at him properly, I could see he'd recovered from whatever shock had crossed his face when I first entered.
“That’s kind of you. I’m sorry we haven’t met or been properly introduced.”
The Landon I know hated being looked down upon.
But it was almost a miracle I could speak at all.
Lance answered for me. “Oh, forgive my manners, darling.” His hand found mine on the table. "This is Alpha Landon from Howling Crest Pack. They're here to discuss new trade agreements with us and explore the possibility of a partnership."
Ah.
And sitting beside Landon was the venom herself—Miranda. The woman he’d chosen. The one he'd— No. I wouldn’t go there. Not now.
“I hope the talks are going well,” I said, voice even.
”As well as can be, my lady.”
“Luna,” Lance corrected. The warmth in his tone made my skin prickle.
Landon faltered. “What?”
“She’s Luna,” Lance repeated. “Not ‘lady.’”
Heat rushed to my face. My lips parted but no words came.
Landon laughed awkwardly and nodded. “Of course. My apologies.”
A sharp sting flared across the back of my neck—like a needle prick. I turned subtly, to find Vivian's gaze boring into me with such intensity I was surprised it didn't leave actual burn marks. Her stare was cold and wicked, filled with a hatred so pure it was almost impressive. She must truly despise hearing Lance call me Luna in front of guests. Despite everything, something in my chest bloomed with satisfaction.
“Come, everyone. Eat,” Lance urged. “Roberts has outdone himself tonight.”
The clinking of cutlery resumed. But Vivian stood then.
“I’ll excuse myself,” she said, grabbing two bottles of wine and a single glass. Without waiting for permission, she left the room.
Lance didn't seem to bother, so I didn't.
I tried to eat. Really did. But the more I did, the harder it was to swallow. And when I couldn't pretend anymore, I leaned closer to the King. “Can we talk?”
“Not now,” he replied without looking at me. “Maybe later.”
If I try to force any meal down my throat, I would definitely retch them and make a mess of things. I nodded and stood slowly. It doesn't matter what he wanted anymore. “I need some air.”
I slipped through the side doors and out onto the terrace. The cool night air hit my face like a blessing, and I let out a long, shuddering sigh as I gripped the stone railing.
“Is that a sigh of relief or victory?”
I turned.
Vivian leaned against the railing, glass in hand, eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
“Bravo,” she drawled. “Well played.”
“I’m not playing anything,” I said quietly.
She laughed. “Are you sure? Because it sure looks like you got everything you wanted.”
She moved closer. Her hand came up, fingers trailing along my jaw, then down, down—until she grazed the curve of my breast and lower.
“You played the little victim so well he couldn’t help himself. Fucked you once and decided your sweet little cunt was worth crowning.”
Her hand grabbed my ass and I shoved her back. “Get off me.”
Vivian stumbled a step. She laughed, the sound harsh and brittle in the night air.
“You’re drunk,” I said.
“Maybe. Maybe not. But let’s not pretend. Tell me—how many of you planned this?”
I turned to leave.
“Is that it? No denial, huh? What fascinates me is how intricate the planning had to be to get this far. What's the endgame? You and your little council of traitors scheming to take him down?”
I turned back, fire flickering in my chest. “There was no plan. No scheme. I didn’t even know he’d say that tonight. It hit me just as hard. So no, Vivian, I won’t justify his actions to you. You know him better than I do, right? Or do you? Has he ever told you his thoughts, or are you so used to crawling in his bed that you assumed you had his heart too?”
Her face twisted.
“You’re just spoiled. So used to getting your way that the second someone says no, you cry like a child denied sweets. Where I grew up, we were taught to understand the difference between—"
"Oh, please shut the fuck up!" Vivian’s eyes snapped. “Don’t give me that poor girl act. Just admit it—you’re fucking my man and ruining my life!”
She shouted the words and I cringed.
“He won’t even look at me!”
I scoffed. “Is that what this is about? His attention?” Does she think I want this? I turned to leave again, but her next words made me freeze.
"I see the look he gives you."
Despite myself, I turned back. "What look?"
"The way he looked at you when you walked in tonight. And how hard you were trying not to look at him."
I forced a laugh. "What are you talking about?"
"Alpha Landon."
My blood turned to ice then and there.
Vivian smiled like a cat with cream. “Ah. There it is.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, you do. Earlier, when I mentioned Landon, you exploded. I thought I was imagining it. But then… at dinner. I saw it. That drop of sweat on your temple. The way your hand trembled. And when he made up that nonsense about bringing you a gift, there was something in the way he said it. That's when I knew."
I could feel my inside about to pour out. And my fingers were really making a mess of my palm.
“Knew what?”
Vivian stepped closer. “That you both know each other.”