Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Kayla’s POV
My ears rang.
For a moment, everything stilled. I blinked against the sudden silence, dizzyingly realizing that the sound had come that close. A whisper of wind brushed my cheek, the hot breath of a bullet grazing too near.
My hand flew to my neck, then my ear. No blood. But gods—my fingers trembled as they hovered just under my earlobe. I had heard it scream past me. Felt it. Like death had kissed my skin and decided not to take me.
I spun on Lance, my voice rising before I could control it. “You could’ve shot me.”
He stood a few paces away, lowering the rifle with maddening grace.
“That wasn’t going to happen.” His voice was unbothered, even clipped, as he clicked the safety back on. “You weren’t the target.”
“Does that make it better?” I hissed, taking a step toward him. “A few inches, Lance. A few damn inches and that bullet would’ve buried itself in my neck.”
His lips curled.
Just that way he always looked when he thought I was being dramatic. “No,” he said slowly. “A few inches, and it would’ve taken your ear clean off. That’s why you felt it so close.” His eyes flicked to the trees, then back to me. “But I’m not an amateur. I never miss.”
Seriously?!
“Then you can apologize,” I snapped.
He looked at me like I’d just asked the moon to drop out of the sky. Then, without a word, he turned and walked toward the trees where the shot had gone.
I followed, the leaves crunching underfoot, the ache of panic still writhing beneath my skin.
He knelt by a snapped branch slick with fresh blood. “Looks like that boar’s still got fight in him, not unexpected,” he murmured, brushing the trail with his fingertips. “Wild survival instinct. It’s always the last thing to go.”
I reached him, fingers curling into his shirt. He paused at the tug but didn’t turn.
“I said apologize.”
“For what?” He finally looked over his shoulder. “I wasn’t aiming at you.”
“That’s not the damn point,” I muttered, brushing past him. “You don’t just fire above someone’s shoulder. What if I flinched? What if I moved?”
“But you didn't.”
Damn him. I turned and started walking away.
I didn’t look back, just kept moving—quicker now, angry at the woods, angry at the sound of his boots trailing me.
“Kayla,” he called. “You’re walking way ahead.”
“I don’t care. Let’s find your boar so you can have your victory and I can get the hell out of this place.”
“Wait—”
I did only because his hand shot out and held me.
Up ahead, the bushes rustled. I spotted it then—the boar, limping, bleeding.
Lance smirked. “It’s weakening. Any moment now…”
“Did I ask for a commentary? You think I need training in boar tracking too?” For fuck sack, I almost lost a head. Might have even seen my ancestors too.
I snatched my hand away and walked off. This time I made it several yards before Lance's sharp whistle behind. A figure emerged from behind a cluster of trees, one of the guards who'd accompanied us. I hadn't even sensed him before.
“Keep following the blood trail, until it gives up," Lance ordered the man.
As the guard melted back into the forest, Lance jogged to catch up with me. "Stop," he called.
I didn’t.
“Kayla—stop.”
I stepped into a clearing, arms crossed. “Perfect," I said bitterly. "Now we're lost."
He strode up beside me. “We’re not lost. Just… slightly turned around.”
“Then take me home.”
Home. It was now.
He was quiet for a moment. Then, softer than before: “This was for you.”
I turned, confused. “What?”
“The hunting trip. I thought..." He ran a hand through his dark hair, looking almost uncertain. "I thought it would be good to get you away from the palace. Maybe even get to know you.”
“You think this is how you get to know someone? By scaring the living soul out of them?”
His eyes darkened, jaw tightening. “I don’t expect you to see the world the way I do. But… you’re my Luna now.”
That—Luna. I’d chosen never to think of that title or what it meant before. “I’m not your Luna. You caught me off guard with that announcement, but it's not like I had any choice in the matter. Just another decree from an alpha that I'm supposed to obey without question."
He tilted his head, studying me. “Another?”
My throat tightened. I looked away. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”
“I could drop it. But as you know… I am an Alpha, unless you prefer being called my plaything.”
That cocky grin made me want to punch him.
“You talk like I’ve done nothing but punish you,” he murmured. Fuck, I felt my body react to that. Like he felt it too, he said, “You should know acting this way only makes me think of tearing those clothes off and have the wild listen to you moaning.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. "You're unbelievable—"
“What? That’s the truth.”
The thought of it, of the guards few yards away.
I stiffened. “So what now? You plan to have me anywhere as long as it serves your purpose.”
His smile vanished.
“No," Lance murmured, close enough now that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, "I plan to have you as I did just days ago, and it doesn't matter where you want it, be it in the palace or here in the woods. And I’d fuck you because I want you. Not just for heirs or fuck sake. I want you writhing beneath me, crying out my name until you forget there was ever a world before me."
The crude honesty of it should have offended me. Instead, it sent liquid fire straight to my core.
"You…you can't just say things like that."
"Why not? It's the truth." His hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing across my bottom lip. "And I think you want it too, even if you're too stubborn to admit it."
My wolf squirmed and something leaked between my legs.
I nearly gave in. Nearly allowed the demons in my head to lead the way, having no care about the guards or the wild, but he stepped back. Then exhaled. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
I blinked.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” he growled. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
I smirked. “Wow. The mighty Alpha King Lance Valois, expressing emotion. Historic.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“For me, maybe,” I teased. “But I know once we’re back in the palace, it’s back to ‘Alpha Time.’”
He chuckled lowly. “Have dinner with me when we get back. No servants.”
I arched a brow. “A personal invitation from His Highness? There’s no assassination plot hidden in that, is there?”
He didn't answer and started walking away. Of course, he wouldn't. I’d pushed past my luck already.
We returned just after sunset. Moira was waiting, a steaming bath already drawn.
“You look like you survived a storm,” she murmured, gently undoing the buttons on my jacket.
After the bath, I dressed in a soft sweater and pants, something cozy, but Moira frowned.
“You can't wear that to dine with the king," she said firmly.
"Why not? It's comfortable."
“You’re having dinner with the King,” she said.
“This will do just fine,” I told her.
The guards at his wing didn’t speak. They simply opened the door.
This was a different dining room. No other servants. No sound except the low crackle of firelight and the sound of my shoes.
Lance sat at the table, his jacket gone, dark shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Veins danced across his arms, the flicker of the flames licking gold along his cheekbones.
Fuck me.
Does he always look this way?
He looked at me, looked through me, and I felt stripped bare.
I sat, swallowing hard.
“Is there a plan in mind, wearing that to dine with me?”
Of course, he didn't approve either.
“Found it in the wardrobe, can’t have it wasting there.”
Lance groaned.
We ate in silence at first.
“Do you like it that much?” He asked.
“I did hike a mountain all afternoon, I can practically eat anything and still enjoy it.” I looked up at him, at his barely eaten meal. “Seems the same can’t be said for you.”
“It’s the first time seeing you eat this much, so I chose to watch.”
This—Lance. I wasn't sure what to make of him.
I cleared my throat after I downed enough water.
“You say that like it fills your stomach.” There was an urge in my belly when I added, “It’s not like watching me excite you like hunting did.”
Those eyes of his licked me up, once, then another. "Right now… I like watching you eat. The way your face turns different shades when you chew, how your jaw moves, and how your throat works. The way you lick the cream on your lip and how you roll your tongue…it’s so innocent yet…”
Heat pooled low in my belly at the intensity in his voice, what those words meant.
Fuck, I wanted him, here and now. Even for a few moments.
So I rose slowly and walked toward him. The hem of my sweater skimmed my thighs.
“May I?” I whispered.
His throat walked and his voice dropped low and rough. “Why are you standing?”
I stopped in front of him, fingers grazing the edge of the table. “Getting to know my king. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He didn’t answer.
I took that as permission.