Sold To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 18: His Anger

Aveline’s hand tightened in the front of his coat.

"You don’t want him to find you here with me like this?" Theron’s low voice rumbled near her ear, the sound deep enough that it vibrated through her chest.

His fingers brushed her jaw. "Is that it?"

A small whimper escaped her before she could stop it.

His lips brushed the soft skin of her neck.

It was light at first, almost accidental, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his mouth moved slowly along the curve of her neck, grazing her skin before trailing upward to her chin. When his lips finally hovered over hers, the faint warmth of his breath brushed across her mouth.

Her fingers curled tighter in his coat.

Aveline’s mind was spinning.

She couldn’t understand why he was acting like this.

If he had already realized she was planning to run away, why was he talking about Theodore? Why did he keep bringing up the dress and the bush and the things he had seen?

None of it made sense.

"I don’t like this dress," she blurted suddenly. "It’s too heavy... for a..."

Slave...

That word died in her throat. He bought her as a slave, and why would he dress her like this?

Theron paused.

"You don’t like this dress..." he echoed slowly, his lips still hovering dangerously close to hers as if he had no intention of moving away.

His breath was warm against her face.

"So you decided the best solution was to undress in front of the first man you found?"

His arm tightened around her waist as he spoke. Before she could react, he leaned in and sank his teeth lightly into the soft skin of her cheek.

Aveline gasped.

Fear rushed through her.

She had no idea what he might do next.

He kept mentioning the same thing—her undressing in front of Theodore. But what else was she supposed to do? She couldn’t remove that monstrous dress by herself. The knots were tied behind her back, and the layers were impossible to manage alone.

And Theodore...

Theodore had seen far worse than a loosened dress.

He had seen her body when it was covered in bruises and welts. Even when he himself had been punished, he had still managed to steal medicine for her the year Henry nearly beat her to death. Theodore had hidden her away for two days while she recovered, applying medicine to her wounds in silence. When the guards discovered them, he had taken every blow without complaint.

He had even smiled afterward... Simply because he knew she was alive.

What exactly did Theron expect Theodore to do?

And then another thought rose in her mind. A question she had buried for years, the question she couldn’t keep locked up in her heart.

"Where were you, Theron?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling despite her effort to steady it.

For the first time since he had entered the room, her gaze lifted fully to his.

"Where were you these past ten years?"

Her parents had died only days after Theron disappeared.

After them, he had been the closest person she had left. They had grown up together in this very house, running through these same halls like wild children. He had been more than an orphan that her parents raised.

Almost like a brother.

When he vanished, everyone had assumed the worst. Aveline had believed it too, because believing he was dead was easier.

If he had been alive... then it meant something else entirely.

Now she had seen it with her own eyes.

He had power.

Enough men obeyed him without question. He carried himself like someone accustomed to command. He even had enough wealth to buy this entire mansion without hesitation.

And yet... For ten long years... He had never come back. Never looked for her.

Her fingers slowly loosened from his coat.

Her voice came out softer this time, but it hurt far more than anything she had said before.

"If you were alive... why didn’t you come for me?"

Theron’s grip on her loosened as if the strength had suddenly drained from his arms.

He stepped back once.

Then again.

The anger that had filled his face moments ago vanished, leaving something far more unsettling in its place.

Aveline had been afraid of him just seconds ago. Yet she also knew exactly where to strike if she wanted to hurt him.

And she had done it.

Perfectly.

What right did he have to glare at her, accuse her, and grow jealous... when she had spent ten years simply trying to survive?

Aveline stood there, looking at him.

Her eyes were glossy with tears she stubbornly refused to let fall. Her lips trembled slightly as she waited, silently asking him for an answer.

For once, Theron could not meet her gaze. He turned his face away. Shame pressed heavily against his chest, making it impossible to breathe properly.

He clenched his fists.

By the time he forced himself to look up again, Aveline had already turned toward the door.

The man from the garden, was standing there waiting for her.

"There’s a lot of food," Aveline said gently. "Come with me."

Theodore nodded. Without looking back, she took his hand. The two of them walked down the hallway together.

Theron remained where he stood.

His fists tightened slowly until his knuckles turned white. His jaw clenched so hard that a dull ache spread through his temples.

He watched their backs as they disappeared down the corridor.

Something sharp twisted inside his chest.

He only moved when he sensed a faint shift in the shadows. His gaze snapped toward the window where the curtains stirred ever so slightly.

"Did you find him?" Theron asked calmly.

His eyes glinted coldly.

From the darkness behind the drapes, a man dressed entirely in black stepped forward. His movements were quiet and precise, like a shadow taking human shape.

He dropped to one knee in front of Theron and placed a hand over his heart.

"I did, Sire," he said. "He had nearly reached the border to board a ship when I caught him."

The man rose smoothly before Theron could even respond.

"I will take you to him, My Liege."

Theron followed him down a narrow passage near the back of the house until they reached a small shed beside the kitchen.

Inside, a man was tied to a wooden post with thick chains around his wrists. The moment he saw Theron, he began struggling violently against the restraints.

Theron stopped in the doorway. "Watch her," he said without turning.

The man in black bowed again, one hand over his chest. "As you command."

With light, almost soundless steps, he disappeared back into the shadows of the house.

Theron stepped fully into the shed. The air inside smelled of damp wood and fear. His gaze settled on the man kneeling on the floor.

The man tied to the post began struggling violently the moment he saw him. "M-my lord—please—I can explain—"

Theron said nothing.

He simply crouched down in front of him and looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then his hand shot forward without warning, wrapping around the man’s throat like the talons of a hunting eagle gripping its prey.

"I paid you every month," Theron said quietly.

His fingers tightened.

"For information about her."

The man’s face turned red as he struggled to breathe.

"And you..." Theron continued, his voice dropping lower as the fury finally surfaced. "...you lied to me."

His grip tightened further, lifting the man slightly off his knees.

The rage that had been burning silently in his chest since Aveline walked away now poured into his hand.

"She was never fine."

The words came out like a verdict.

And in that moment, the man choking in his grasp realized something terrifying.

Theron was far more angry with himself than he was with anyone else.