Chapter 10

Jules POV

I closed my eyes. Not out of surrender but trust. A trembling, dangerous trust that this stranger would hold my secret, cradle my fear.

Gale’s hands slid to the waistband of my trousers but he didn’t move further. He simply stayed there, warm and steady, his fingers pressing into the fabric with quiet reassurance.

Around us, the room was wild with hunger and noise.

But between us, there was silence.

A pact.

And as I pressed closer to him, leaning into the only refuge I had in this hell, one thought burned through my mind like wildfire:

If the king suspected something, I was dead.

But Gale… Gale was shielding me with his body, his performance, his unexpected mercy.

And so, I clung to him, letting the lie live because it was the only thing keeping me alive.

Gale’s hands moved lower, slow and deliberate, slipping just inside my trousers but he didn’t go further. He paused there, the heat of his palms grounding me, not pushing. Just holding.

"You're so wet," he murmured against my ear almost in something other than desire, maybe in even concern. "You don't have to pretend for me, you know."

Time stopped. How was it possible that he could see right through me, when no one else did?

His hand slid to the middle of my chest. I felt the warmth of his fingers through the fabric of the dress, where I had bound my breast almost as tightly as I could manage under my disguise. His caress was lighter than a quill, but I felt like I was struck. My body locked up.

My heart pounded like the bass drum in my chest like a caged bird desperate to escape.

Gale's presence beside me was solace and torture. His nature was commanding and enticing enough that I felt forced to be completely aware of myself and my own timid nature again. The audience was anticipating even more, licking their lips with longing and roaming their eyes across my body, stripping me much further than any physical caress could do. 

I knew I had to move, and have them be distracted from their desire and hunger; otherwise they might be able to figure out the truth I wanted to keep hidden so badly.

Taking in a deep breath to decompress, I leaned into Gale, brushing my lips against his in a soft, cautious kiss. The contact sent a shiver through me, a quickening that lit a fire deep within. I pulled back ever so slightly to whisper in his ear, "Lay down for me."

The look in Gale's eyes darkened with understanding, a slow predatory smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he relaxed against the plush cushions on the floor. Gale moved with an effortless grace and confidence as he positioned himself downward, like a king lowering himself onto his pleasure throne. My heart raced as I slowly took in the sight of Gale's body: toned muscle and restrained power sprawled lazily before me.

Every line of his body, every breath, seemed to ooze control and domination. I knew I was about to unleash something primal-something that would seize the room and keep all eyes locked on us, having no focus for my secret.

Kneeling between Gale's legs, I slid my palms down the strong curves of his thighs, tension thrumming beneath the fabric like an electrical storm waiting to break apart. My fingers trailed slowly over his legs as though tracing the lines of holy scripture with purpose.

The heat of his skin radiated from the stretch of fabric that just covered him down there, and it made my hands tremble as I forced them to be steady. The crowd stared at us with burning brands, but I didn't flinch any longer. I had to be bold, to sell the illusion with every breath of air, and every minute movement of my body.

Gale's eyes remained forever fixed into mine. I could see his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. I saw the tension in his jaw, the half fabricated kind of desire in his eyes; looking at me as if I were prey, yet also a participant in something dangerous. 

I took my sweet time loosening the material that was covering him. I felt my fingers tremble slightly as I removed it, exposing his straining dick beneath. Gale's breath hitched, and his eyes remained fixed on mine, revealing a silent communication of trust and desire.

Once I took off the cloth completely, my mouth watered, and I wrapped my fingers around his hard dick, feeling the heat pulse through at the base of my hand. I stroked him gently, with light and teasing touches, drawing a low groan from Gale's throat. The sound was like music to my ears, echoing against my skin and feeding my own arousal, which I tried to hide under a carefully constructed facade.

My hands were still wrapped around it, gliding with practiced skill, but all I desperately needed was for King Lucian to say something. Anything. To put an end to this madness. To call it off. But the silence from where he was sitting was thunderous.

Instead the audience's screams continued to get louder and louder.

Gasps turned to cheers, whistles pierced the air, and chants rattled against stone walls like war drums. Their excitement fed off of my every movement, every breath, and it seemed as though their hunger could never be satisfied. I could feel it in the way the room leaned in, closer and closer, like they were watching a sacred ritual illuminated before their very eyes.

I swore I felt my heart sink a little as I turned to look towards where the throne was situated.

King Gunner's stance was unreadable, but the light in his eyes sparkled like he was amused. If I stared long enough, I could see the faintest smirk creeping on his lips, and it sent a crawling chill down my spine. He wasn't just entertained. He was enjoying himself. 

They didn't intend to stop this.

And that was the scariest part of it all.

Leaning down, I rolled my tongue over the sensitive tip, a salty taste gathering on my tongue.

Gale’s hips moved slightly, his hands clutching the cushions beside him. I took his dick into my mouth, my lips closing around him as I began to move slowly and carefully.

The room around us faded, only the sounds of soft moans and quiet cheers reaching my ears. What mattered was Gale’s hands tangled in my hair, his taste on my tongue, and how his body reacted to me.

I forgot my fear and doubt, focused only on pleasing him. I felt his control slipping, his body tightening as he got closer. With one last deep push, he let go, releasing into my mouth, a bitter-sweet moment that left us both breathless.

Laughter and loud talk filled the room as people cheered, their voices bouncing off the walls. The crowd had gotten what they came for chaos, shame, and wild entertainment. But through the noise, one voice cut through like a sharp knife.

King Gunner rose slowly from his seat, the heavy silence that followed his movement instant and absolute. All eyes turned to him. His presence commanded the room with such authority that even the air felt still.

“I want him to be mine,” the king said, his voice calm but laced with something dark and possessive.

His gaze fixed on me, not just observing, but consuming. My breath caught.

“Alpha Lucian,” King Gunner continued, turning his head slightly but never breaking eye contact with me, “I want him as my personal slave. I know you have no taste for men… and I believe he would suit me far better.”

Gasps rippled through the room, the crowd stunned into silence for a beat before murmurs ignited again, quieter this time, full of speculation.

He didn’t just want to own me, he wanted to claim me in front of them all.

I gasped softly, the blood in my veins turning to ice. How had I just gone from the frying pan straight into the fire? All I had wanted, desperately, silently was to survive the night without being fed to the hounds. I thought I had done enough. Played my part. Endured the shame.

But now this?

My pulse thundered in my ears as the weight of King Gunner’s words settled over me like chains. He wanted me. Not just for anything. Not just for a night. As a personal slave. My body stiffened, muscles taut with dread. My disguise felt thinner than ever.

I didn't dare move. My knees still on the cushions, my hands trembling where they rested on Gale’s thighs, my lips parted slightly in disbelief. The crowd, moments ago a roaring sea of noise, had quieted to hushed murmurs again, like wolves waiting to see who would bleed first.

My eyes, wide with alarm, flicked toward Lucian. My only hope now was him, perhaps the only man with the power to say no to King Gunner. To refuse the request and spare me from whatever fate the Ravenstone King had in mind.

Lucian’s expression was unreadable. His dark eyes studied me, then the king, then back to me again.

I held my breath, bracing myself for whatever would come next.

Lucian was still quiet, as King Gunner continued, his voice dripping with authority.

"I’ll pay in gold," Gunner said, his words deliberate, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Ten thousand gold talons. Enough to claim him."

The room seemed to hold its breath as the weight of the offer settled over them. Ten thousand talons.

Asides from being one of the most powerful rulers of the Northern Territories, king Gunner was infamous for his unrelenting greed. He was known far and wide not just for the vastness of his territory, but for his insatiable hunger for wealth. Gold was his currency of power, his obsession. 

He had accumulated riches beyond imagination, slaves from all corners of the realm, treasures from distant lands, and an endless supply of opulent luxuries. He didn’t just rule; he flaunted his riches, holding extravagant parties to display his dominance. His power wasn't just in his pack, but in his overwhelming wealth.

And now, he was laying it all on the table to claim me.

My stomach twisted. Ten thousand talons. The amount was astronomical, enough to change the fate of anyone who accepted it.

Lucian remained seated, his posture unyielding, his gaze never leaving King Gunner. The silence in the room grew thick, heavy with the tension of unspoken thoughts. The crowd waited, their anticipation palpable, knowing full well that this moment could change everything. But Lucian remained still, a statue of defiance.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lucian rose to his full height. His movement was slow, deliberate, each step radiated the power of someone who had ruled for decades, someone who had no fear of what others might do or say. The room fell even quieter, if that was even possible, as every eye turned toward him. 

He was not just an Alpha; he was the kind of man whose presence demanded respect. Lucian's voice was a low, commanding growl as he addressed King Gunner. “I don’t think I want to put him up for sale. So now you can keep your gold.”