Auctioned to the Cruel King - Chapter 66: Chapter 66

Kayla’s POV
The sheets were warm with his absence.
I stirred slowly, blindly, fingers grazing over rumpled fabric, searching for skin that was no longer there. My hand dragged across the bed, over the place his body had occupied just seconds ago, or maybe it had been hours.
The chill that filled the emptiness where he’d been made me open my eyes.
At first, the room was a blur. Morning sunlight trickled in through heavy drapes, but it wasn’t enough to keep the shadows at bay. My lashes were sticky, my limbs languid and heavy. I blinked, trying to will clarity into my vision.
My head swam.
Still naked, I rolled onto my back, clutching the blanket to my chest. The fabric smelled like him.
My inner child made me bring the sheets close to my face…I breathed it in slowly, deeper than I meant to, letting it coil around my lungs like smoke. It was a scent I hadn’t realized I’d memorized until now. Until it was the only thing he left behind.
I didn’t want to think too deeply about it, about what last night meant—or didn’t mean—to him. I’d just… gone for it. My body had wanted, craved, and I’d answered. Simple as that.
A sudden knock on the door snapped me from my thoughts.
It creaked open without my answer. Moira stepped in with her usual poise, eyes already sweeping the room.
“Good morning, Luna,” she said too brightly, striding toward the windows.
The curtains were yanked apart with a sharp rustle, and sunlight bled into the room like a slow wound. She pushed open the pane of glass next, letting in the sharp bite of cool, fresh air.
“Gods above,” she muttered, nose wrinkling. “This entire room reeks of sex.”
My ears perked, snapping me into full awareness.
“Could you not say it like that?” I rasped, bolting upright, pulling the sheets tighter around me.
Moira only chuckled. “Oh, don’t be coy now. Anyone walking past this hall could hear you both last night. And now…” She gestured broadly around the room. “His scent’s everywhere and dominating. Might as well open the windows and air the place out.”
My face went hot. The heat spread from my cheeks down my neck like wildfire. I flopped back onto the pillow, groaning into the linen, mortified.
“I didn’t plan it.”
Somehow she heard that.
“No one plans good sex,” Moira said casually, plucking a stray piece of fabric off the floor. “It just… happens. Especially when the King is involved.”
I pulled the covers higher. “Don’t remind me.”
“Oh, sweet, the whole damn palace knows.” She laughed, then began fluffing pillows, her tone turning more mischievous. “I’d say it’s a good sign. The King giving you that kind of attention—it’s a fine thing after brooding for weeks. At least now he has a reason to look like he’s part-possessed.”
I peeked out. “Moira…”
“What?”
Gods! Had she been this way all along?
“Maybe it’s time we move you into the King’s chambers permanently,” she added offhandedly.
“No,” I said it too fast, too loud. “Absolutely not.”
Moira blinked at me, mildly surprised. “I was joking,” she said with a crooked smile. “Mostly.”
I didn’t smile back.
Her face softened. “What is it? You’re sleeping together. You’re opening up. He’s opening up. You’ve accepted your place here.”
“I’ve accepted the terms of being here,” I corrected quietly. “But there’s still something unfinished. Something that won’t let me settle.”
Moira tilted her head. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” I said, swallowing hard. “It’s not about him, or this place… not entirely. It’s me. I feel like… like I’m still waiting for something. Or mourning something. Or both.”
It was true. Mostly… it felt like this is all an illusion and soon they will all crack and I’ll be left with nothing.
Moira paused, watching me carefully.
“But the sex is great, right?” she said, teasing just enough to make the moment lighter.
A reluctant laugh escaped me. “Beyond great.”
She grinned. “See? That’s half the war won.”
I looked up at the ceiling. “It’s the mystery that makes it worse, I think. The way he looks at me sometimes—like he’s trying not to feel anything. Then he touches me like he already does.”
“You’re terrified,” she said, not unkindly. “And you keep looking for hidden meanings in shadows that don’t exist.”
“I just... I like that it’s still my room,” I said softly. “That he comes here. That he chooses to. There’s something thrilling about the unpredictability.”
“That’s fair.” Her gaze softened. “But don’t sabotage something good just because you’re afraid it won’t last.”
Again, she pulled me out of myself.
Moira stood, pulling the sheets from the bed and folding them into a laundry basket.
“Do you know anything about the incident with Lance years back?” I asked softly.
Her hands froze. Just for a breath.
“No incident comes to mind.”
My brows pinched together. “Really?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
She didn’t answer.
“Oh come on, Moira. We’re friends, aren’t we? You were handpicked by the King to tend to me. You know things.”
She turned to me, exasperated. “And you know how dangerous it is to dig up the past.”
I watched her carefully. “So you do know.”
“I know enough to tell you that if you want answers about the King, you should ask him,” she said. “Because whatever happened, he’s the best person who knows.”
I sat up straighter, the covers slipping a bit from my chest. I ignored it.
Moira crossed her arms. “He brought you here, Kayla. He let you live. He broke his own rules for you. That’s not something he does lightly. Maybe try trusting that, instead of hunting ghosts.”
My heart thudded painfully. Trust. That word again.
I nodded slowly. “I’ll think about it.”
“You do that,” she said, then turned to gather the sheets again.
But a wave of nausea crashed into me, sudden and brutal. My stomach churned, bile burning my throat.
“Oh shit—” I gasped, lunging from the bed.
“What?”
Pain shot through my thigh where the bandage rubbed raw, but I didn’t stop. I stumbled into the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before vomiting.
“Kayla?” Moira called, alarmed.
She was behind me in seconds, pulling my hair back as I emptied the contents of my stomach. My knees hit the cold tile. I retched until there was nothing left.
She flushed the sink before helping me upright.
“Have you caught a cold?” she asked, brushing strands of damp hair from my cheek.
“I’m fine,” I murmured. “Probably just… overwhelmed. It’ll pass.”
Moira helped me back to bed and fetched a glass of water. I sipped slowly, watching her from the corner of my eye.
“Where is Lance?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
She hesitated.
“Just finishing a council briefing regarding the Alpha Kane situation," Moira said, then immediately looked like she wanted to take the words back.
"What happened to Alpha Kane?"
Moira's face went pale. "Uhm... you'll know when you feel better. You should rest. We’ll talk later—”
"No, I'm better now. What's going on?"
"Excuse me," she said quickly, grabbing the basket of sheets and clothes. "I need to get these to the laundry."
"No, wait—"
But she was already out the door, leaving me alone with a growing sense of dread.
What the hell was that about?