Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 57: Chapter 57

Lance’s POV
Curse me.
The door shut behind her. Kayla didn’t slam it—no, she was too proud for theatrics. But the way she yanked her hand out of mine before leaving? That said more than anything she could’ve shouted.
I knew I was part of the problem. But right now, I couldn't care less. I stood still for a breath too long.
Vivian shifted behind me on the chaise, the leather creaking as she adjusted her weight. I didn’t turn. “You sure had your way with that one,” I groaned out. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“Oh, come on.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, the movement slow but rough, like trying to wring the tension out of my skull. It didn’t work. “Don’t start.”
Vivian gave a short, humorless laugh. “I wasn't trying to start anything.” A pause. “The moment she finally grows enough courage to talk back at me—puts me in my place—I’ll stop. Until then, she’s fun.”
Women can be so tiresome… it was the reason I never wanted anything to do with one in the first place. But somehow—
“She thinks you hate her,” I muttered under my breath. The words felt like gravel in my throat. I didn’t even mean to say them aloud.
Vivian caught it. “Which makes it all the more interesting, doesn’t it?” she drawled. “Also—yes. I do dislike her. She stole my Lycan.”
I finally turned then, facing her. “You lost me long before she walked into my life.”
Vivian’s eyes narrowed, but her smile didn’t falter. “Is that why you always jump to defend her? That’s sweet.”
“Not always.”
Vivian leaned her head back against the cushion, exhaling through her nose. “Come join me in bed,” she said. “It’s a king-size. It’ll fit both of us well enough.”
I didn’t smile. “Thank you for the offer, but no.” I moved toward the edge of the chaise, lowering myself to sit beside her, never fully relaxed. “How are you feeling?”
She gave a long exhale. “Like I survived a fall off the palace roof. Bones rattled, head still spinning.” Her voice dropped, throatier now. “I begged you for weeks to handle it. Put a lid on him. But you didn’t listen.”
I looked at her, then away. “So now it’s my fault.”
Vivian didn’t answer right away, so I added. “I thought it was just another one of your games. Getting my attention. Making noise, starting fires.”
She turned to look at me, brows pulling together.
“What?” I asked.
“You think I get desperate? Well… yes. That's just because you were the last man who broke me open, but not every one of my moves is to get into your bed. Or is it that you think ever since Kayla arrived, I no longer participate in the pleasures of the flesh?"
"When you put it like that..." I paused, choosing my words. "But no. That's not what I meant."
She snorted softly. “Still, none of the other Lycans are as satisfactory as you. The savageness, the chaos... it excites me. I like it when you push my face so hard into the pillows I begin to choke. That's where the true orgasm is—living on the edge. Sex no longer becomes just for intimacy, but it takes on a life and breath of its own."
Her voice dropped to something almost hypnotic, weaving memories between us like silk threads. "You used to like that. I bet she doesn't give you that."
I leaned, bracing my elbows on my knees. My hands hung limp between them, fists not yet made.
“And that,” I said quietly, “that’s always been the problem. We were never anything but the violence between orgasms. You and I? You bring out the worst in me. You loved it, but every time after we were done, I was bruised."
"I'm bruised too," she whispered, and for a moment, vulnerability crept into her voice. "But they're our secrets."
"You don't get it.”
Vivian stared at me like I’d just insulted her.
I stood.
She tilted her head. “You were strong. Feared," she pressed, leaning forward slightly despite her injuries. "What happened to that man?"
What a legacy to leave behind. Fear and brutality. The kind of king who ruled through violence and intimidation. The kind of man who found release in the darkness Vivian offered, who lost himself in the chaos we created together.
"Anyway," I said, cutting off that line of thought before it could take root. "How do we contact Cleo?"
"No. We're not done talking.”
“Yes, we are.” I turned toward the window briefly, the gray skies beyond matching the churn in my chest. “He would’ve left something. A way to contact him. You were close once. So where is it?”
Her frown deepened. “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”
I didn’t answer.
“You’re pissed because he came into your palace unaanounced,” she said slowly. “Not because of his lies. Not because he played you. Just because he may come for her.”
I turned to her fully. “He laid hands on you,” I said. “It’s only fitting.”
Vivian searched my face, something unreadable flickering in her expression. Then she sighed. “He’s at the inn.”
“The last inn?” I asked. That was an odd place to return to. “The same one we met him at?”
She nodded. “Same place. Same seat, probably. Cleo’s dramatic like that. Said he’d always be there when we needed him.”
“Did he give a time?”
“No. He’s just… there. Always.”
I nodded once. “Alright. Get well soon.”
I stepped past her, toward the door.
“Lance,” she called behind me.
I paused.
“She’s hiding something from you.”
My hand stilled on the doorknob. “And what makes you think that?”
Vivian's voice dropped. “She’s too nervous. She watches you like you’re about to pull the floor out from under her.”
I didn’t turn. “I’ll look into it.”
And then I left. Alaric stood outside the door. His posture snapped straighter when he saw me and then he fell into step beside me as we walked through the corridor.
"Has anyone checked out the Last Inn?" I asked without preamble.
"What?" Alaric's stride faltered slightly. "He went back there?"
"That's what Vivian said. I'm thinking he might own the place now."
“That doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “Madam D would never sell. That inn’s been in her family for four generations.”
“She’s not who she was. If she’s even still alive.” I glanced toward him. “Cleo could’ve taken over. Bought it. Forced her out. Or worse.”
“She was old even then,” Alaric said grimly. “She’d be what—ninety now?”
“She’ll have been kicked aside. Or buried.”
Alaric was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “You want someone to scout it?”
“Yes. Quietly. No insignia. I want eyes on the place, and I want them fast.”
“If Cleo’s using it as a stronghold—”
“He is,” I said flatly. “And if I were him, I’d lace the entire building with traps. With escape routes. I want blueprints. Old maps. Anyone who’s lived in that district over the last eight years. I want to know who works there now, who walks in and out.”
Alaric nodded. “Yes, my King.”
We turned into the next corridor.
My thoughts spiraled back to Kayla.
That look in her eyes before she left. Hurt, yes. But deeper than that—mistrust.
She didn’t know what to make of me anymore. My beast growled in my head and I hissed.
“And bring in my reporter.”
“Yes, Alpha.”