Novelas y relatos de Auctioned To The Cruel King

A wave of mean satisfaction washed over my existence, even the horrifying stories related to King Maddox’s name didn’t affect me. “King Maddox? He is a monster. He eats human flesh for his power.” “He has massacred several packs in wars. He enjoys the suffering of others.” And so on... King was coming here to buy Ayleen and not us, this was enough hope for me to look forward to the future. ... A long glass ramp, red and white lights, a dark area for guests to hide their identities, the setting of the auction wasn’t different from my time. It felt like the time reversed, and I was there to be sold again.

“And make sure it’s delivered by someone who knows how to convey the gravity of the situation.” The scribe nodded, hurrying away to carry out his task. Adrian stared into the flames, his mind already planning the destruction that would follow if his demands were not met. He would make sure the world knew what happened to those who dared defy him. ***** “I was sold by my father. To a cruel king. A king who abused me, hurt me, and killed me for his own worth. A king who used me as his plaything. A king who paid my father enough money to continue his terrible gambling debt.

The gathering of Royals and councilmen is speechless for a long moment before King Roderick furiously springs up from his seat, seething with range. "You sold my son without my consent?" he roars, causing Sir Bowman to tremble like a leaf. "I . . .I had no idea that you cared for him, your majesty. Princess Rowena offered a thousand gold coins to buy him as a gift for her father. I thought you would be impressed by the deal," he defends. "Traitor!" King Roderick yells. "Take him and hang him with the other criminals," he orders. Three of the guards that were in the room match forward and drag a screaming Sir Bowman out while the king's three wives observe with dread.

I said to the bastard. I walked out of the dungeon and the king followed. “You lost your child but our deal still stands.” The king said behind me. “What do you want since we lost the child.” I asked, trying to remain calm. “I will give you one of our women to bed, if she conceives a female child then our deal is settled and if she bares a male child, the child belongs to you but you still owe me a daughter.” Author’s note Ischavor deserves this and more right? Or what do you all think? The barbarian king wants to proof difficult, he is so desperate for a betrothal.

A very familiar voice thunders. My gaze snaps up to met his and anger courses through my veins. The king is sitting in a decorated throne on a separate platform, his lips tilts into a cruel smirk. “Anyone who can bid higher than that can take the girl home,” he says, without breaking eye contact with me. Grumbles erupts among them, their chatters dying down. “That's too much. She's not even worth that much, your majesty,” someone finally speaks up. “She's a rare blood, she's worth more.”

“We won, Luna.” The word hung in the air. Luna. Not Key. Not human. Luna. But as relief began to thaw my frozen nerves, Marcus’s grin faded. His expression turned grim. “We have the field. But we need our King.” He looked at the bound shadow of Morvana, then at me, his meaning clear. “The wellspring is bound. The prison should be… accessible. But we don’t know what it cost him to hold that door open for you.” The fragile pulse in the bond gave a weak, fluttering throb, as if in answer.

Then his eyes drifted over the older scars lining my arms, finally settling on the fresh, dark blood soaking into the back of my dress. ​His expression didn't change. Not even a fraction of an inch. ​Of course it didn't. Men like him didn't feel pity. Monsters never did. ​The auctioneer rubbed his hands together eagerly, sensing an impossible payday. "Shall I begin the bidding again for her, Your Majesty? We can start at—" ​The king finally tore his eyes away from me, looking at the auctioneer with a gaze that could freeze water. ​"I'll take her." ​The entire auction house went dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop.

The kind of slap that leaves a mark on the ego of a powerful man. Ilyès Blackwood. He was no ordinary man. Cold. Calm. Insultingly wealthy. And above all, vindictive. “Are you kidding?” she breathed. “You’re not really going to…” “It’s too late,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. “I’ve wiped out your father’s debts. You’re mine now, Lena.” “No. No, that’s illegal. I’m of age, I…” But she didn’t have time to finish. Two men approached from behind her. She felt their hands on her arms, the force, the impossibility of escape.

“Henry, calm your loins. The girl you are referring to as some futile object is the heir of a powerful throne. And you want to trade her for the happiness of my kingdom? Know this- even if you sell yourself in the open market of Bagdad, you won’t be able to justify her price. She is too much for a rat like you. I will kill my daughter instead of pushing her in the tainted lands of Baden. The way you are leading your people is quite disturbing. The way you are making a trade, a true king never does. I say this in front of everyone, you are not a King but an opportunist, a businessman, and a merchant who hovers where the profit comes most. My kingdom will love to die in suffering than handing