Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 65: Chapter 65

Lance’s POV
Vivian walked out the moment I gave the order. No flair this time. No witty exit.
I turned to Alaric.
“Walk with me, Ric,” I said.
He fell in step beside me, quiet as always, but there was a charge to his silence now. The kind that buzzed low under the skin. As if the air around him had something it wasn’t saying.
We passed through the great marble hall, our boots echoing off the polished floors. Light from the high-arched windows spilled over the golden trim of the walls, illuminating this place like a temple. But there was no holiness here. Just history, blood, and ambition layered in stone.
“I’m curious,” I said finally, keeping my gaze ahead, “what do you make of Vivian and her... pointed advances?”
A beat. Then: “Vivian is Vivian.”
“That’s not an answer. More like a deflection.”
“She’s smart,” he said flatly. “Beautiful. Predictably unpredictable.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I wasn’t asking for her résumé.”
“Does it matter what I think?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Because for a moment back there, it looked like you were about to gut-punch her. And I don’t think it was just because she was standing too close.”
“I think,” he said, tone clipped, “that it’s the male who should approach the female. Not the other way around.”
So he noticed.
“With Vivian, it’s different. You should already know that by now…you’ve known her long enough to know she never waits for permission.”
His silence was agreement enough.
He cast me a side glance. “You seemed like you were enjoying it.”
“Frankly,” I muttered, “yes. At least she’s finally found someone else to stalk besides me. It's a relief.”
Alaric didn’t find that pleasing.
I pushed open the double doors to the outer chambers of the council wing. “She’s channeling all that volatile energy into something else now,” I added. “Someone. You. Congratulations. You’re her new project.”
Ric said nothing. I nearly smiled. But didn’t. I didn’t do that.
We reached the wide, heavy doors that led into the council room. The guards posted on either side bowed and reached for the handles before I stopped them.
“Before I go in there,” I said quietly, “what was it you needed to tell me?”
Alaric’s expression darkened. “We received word early this morning,” he said. “Alpha Kane is dead.”
I stared at him to make sure I heard right. Then they sank.
“What?”
“He was murdered.”
“Murdered?” My voice came low, cold. “By whom?”
“Alpha Landon.”
A pause.
Then— “Why?”
“Territorial dispute.”
I swore under my breath and stepped away from the doors. The guards wisely kept them shut.
“Don’t give me a damn history lesson,” I snapped. “Tell me what happened. Not why.”
Alaric straightened. “It was a coordinated invasion of the Smokeveil estate. Every guard, every staff member was slaughtered. By the time reinforcement arrived, there was nothing left.”
My pulse beat behind my teeth.
“And his family?”
“Survived by two daughters—Marian and Dany.”
I nodded slowly, remembering them from the last Summit. “What happened to them?”
“Landon offered Marian to one of his captains.”
My head jerked up. “She’s twelve.”
“I know. As for Dany and their Luna... Landon took them.”
“Define took.”
Alaric’s voice hardened. “Our spies said his parting words were, ‘She’ll fit perfectly in my roleplay.’”
I went completely still.
Rage was not a heat in my chest. It was cold. So cold it made my vision clear, my limbs steady. Kane was a lot of things, but weak wasn't one of them. That is why it vexed me to think a bastard like Landon took him down.
“How long did it take for reinforcements to arrive?” I asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
“And how far was the nearest garrison?”
“We’re still investigating.”
“Then find out. That kind of breach suggests rot from the inside. Kane was too formidable a wolf to be put down like cattle.”
“Understood.”
I turned to the doors again.
“Have the council been briefed?”
“Yes. Briefed separately, by their own wards. Which is one of the reasons they’re gathered this morning. But to what extent they understand the weight of it… I can’t say.”
“They understand plenty,” I muttered. “What they really care about is how this benefits them. Fuck. This meeting’s going to be chaotic and vultures always come dressed in robes.”
“Do you want me to reach out to Landon?”
“Yes. Send a formal notice. I want an explanation.”
Alaric inclined his head and turned to leave.
“And…Ric.”
He stopped.
“Keep this quiet from Kayla.”
He hesitated. “Understood.”
And then I walked into the wolf’s den.
The council chamber was silent the moment I entered.
Twelve men. Four women. Each one draped in power, in greed, in the sickly perfume of self-interest. They rose to acknowledge me, but I didn’t pause for ceremony. I took my seat at the high table and met their eyes with nothing short of cold indifference.
Councilor Mareth, a narrow-eyed man who never spoke unless profit was involved, cleared his throat. “My king,” he began, “before we proceed with the matters of our pack, several of us agree—there is a more pressing concern. Namely, the death of Alpha Kane.”
Murmurs of agreement followed like well-trained dogs.
“What happened in Smokeveil,” another councilor said, “was a travesty. One that should not go unanswered.”
More murmurs. More nods. Pious pretenders cloaking greed in concern.
I stared at him. Let the silence stretch long and sharp.
Then I spoke. “And what made you—who made you—judges of events outside our borders?”
The murmuring died instantly.
“You posture like mourners, but your hands are already reaching for the carcass.”
“My king, you misunderstand…all we’re talking about—”
“No,” I said. “You’re not here for justice. You’re here for profit. Don’t insult me with faux righteousness.”
I rose slowly from my seat, voice turning like iron. “Alpha Kane’s death is a wound. And yet the bodies haven’t even cooled, and you gather like vultures, circling what remains. You wonder if your investments are safe. You calculate the cottonweed trade through Doran, through his territory. You fear the cracks in your coffers more than the blood spilled on the stone.”
Several faces paled.
“Yes,” I said softly. “I know.”
I turned my gaze on Jalen.
“Tell me, Jalen. What is the charge for illegal trafficking of forbidden substances?”
“Death,” he muttered.
“Louder.”
“…Death.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I let my gaze sweep the room.
“I should have your tongues removed and your hearts carved out and fed to the crows who circle the borderlands, waiting for your like to fall.”
No one dared to speak.
“Be warned,” I said, low and lethal. “This is your first and final reminder that I am not blind. Nor am I merciful to betrayal.”
A beat passed.
Then I inhaled. “Now. Back to the matter of our pack.”