Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 118

Natasha's POV

I didn't sleep well.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mordred. The massive wolf-beast towering over me. Blood dripping from his fangs. Those golden eyes—wild, feral, empty of humanity.

*And today I have to go to him willingly. Walk into his den. Try to reach something inside him that might not even exist anymore.*

I rose before dawn. Washed my face in the basin. Changed into the cleanest dress I had—though "clean" was relative. All my slave clothes bore stains. Sweat. Blood. Dirt ground in from weeks of hard labor.

But I did my best. Combed my hair. Braided it back neatly.

If I was going to face a monster, I'd at least face him looking as presentable as possible.

Davelina was already awake when I emerged from my room. She stood in her doorway, watching me with worried eyes.

"You're going now?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," I said. "The sooner I start, the sooner I can... figure out what to do."

She crossed to me. Took my hands. "Be careful."

"I will," I promised.

---

The guards at the entrance were different from yesterday. They saw me approaching and one moved to block my path.

"Halt. This corridor is restricted—"

I pulled out the document before he could finish. Extended it toward him.

He took it. Read it. His eyebrows rose.

Then he handed it back and stepped aside. Just like that. No threats. No shoving. No violence.

The second guard even nodded respectfully as I passed.

I walked down the corridor.

The massive iron door loomed ahead. I could hear movement inside. Low growling. The scrape of claws on stone.

I slid open the viewing slot.

Mordred was pacing in his beast form. Massive. Agitated. His claws leaving deep gouges in the stone floor as he moved.

He sensed me immediately. His head swung toward the door. Golden eyes locked onto mine through the small opening.

For a moment, we just stared at each other.

Then I slid the bolt and entered.

---

The smell hit me—overwhelming as before. Blood. Decay. Animal musk.

The floor was littered with carcasses. Half-eaten cattle. Bones. Dried blood.

Mordred stood frozen, watching me.

"Hello," I said. Voice steadier than I expected. "It's me again."

We'd spent a night together already. He'd held me while he slept. Hadn't hurt me then.

A low growl rumbled from his chest. He took a step toward me.

I raised my hands slowly. Palms out. "I brought food."

I gestured to the bowl near the door. Fresh meat. Raw and bloody.

Mordred's gaze flicked to it. Then back to me. He snorted. Dismissive.

"You should eat," I said. "You didn't finish what they left yesterday."

He circled me once. Sniffing. Learning my scent again.

I turned slowly, keeping him in sight. Let him investigate.

When he finished, he moved away. Curled up in the corner on a pile of torn blankets. Watching me but not approaching the food bowl.

*He's not going to eat from the bowl. He doesn't trust it. Or doesn't want it that way.*

I stared at the untouched meat. At the massive beast who refused it.

Then an idea formed.

*What if he wants to be fed? Like... like when he held me that night. Maybe he wants contact. Connection.*

It was insane. Dangerous. But I was out of better options.

I approached the bowl. Crouched beside it. Picked up a piece of raw meat.

It was heavy. Warm. Blood dripped between my fingers.

My stomach turned, but I swallowed my revulsion.

"What if I feed you?" I asked quietly. "Would that be better?"

Mordred's ears pricked up. His head lifted.

*He's interested.*

I stood. Held the meat in my hand. Approached him slowly.

"I'm coming closer now," I said. Voice calm. "Just bringing you food. That's all."

Step by step, I crossed the chamber.

Mordred watched. Muscles tense. But he didn't growl. Didn't warn me away.

When I was about five feet from him, I stopped. Held out the meat.

"Here. Fresh meat. For you."

His nostrils flared. He could smell it. Wanted it.

But he didn't move. Just watched me with those golden eyes.

*He wants me closer. Wants me to bring it to him directly.*

I took another step. Then another.

Until I was right beside him. Close enough to touch.

I knelt slowly. Offered the meat. "Here. Take it."

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then Mordred leaned forward. His massive head approaching my hand.

His breath was hot against my skin. His fangs gleamed inches from my fingers.

He could bite off my hand. My arm. Kill me instantly.

But instead, he took the meat. Gently. His teeth barely grazing my palm as he pulled the flesh free.

He chewed. Swallowed. Then looked at me expectantly.

*He wants more. And he wants me to keep feeding him.*

I stood on shaking legs. Went back to the bowl. Retrieved another piece.

Returned to him. Knelt. Offered it.

Again, he took it carefully. No snapping. No aggression.

We repeated this six times. Seven. Eight.

Each time, my fear lessened slightly. Each time, Mordred seemed a fraction less feral.

By the ninth piece, I was kneeling so close our bodies almost touched. I could feel the heat radiating from his fur.

He ate from my hand like a tamed animal. Almost gentle in how he took each piece.

When the bowl was finally empty, I stayed beside him. My hand resting on my lap.

Mordred leaned forward. His tongue—rough and hot—licked my palm. Cleaning the blood from my fingers.

*He's grooming me. Like pack animals do.*

"Good," I whispered. "You ate everything. That's good."

His tail moved slightly. Not quite a wag. But not hostile.

He settled down, his massive body relaxing. His head came to rest near my knee.

Still watching me. Still wary. But calmer than before.

I sat there. Not quite touching him, but close enough to feel his presence. His warmth.

*This is working. He's eating. He's calm. He's not trying to kill me.*

Time passed. I didn't know how long.

Eventually, I heard the bolt slide back. A guard called: "Boy? You still alive?"

"Yes," I answered. "I'm fine."

"Morning shift is over. You should rest. Come back this afternoon if you want."

I looked at Mordred. He was watching me still. Those golden eyes half-lidded but alert.

"I'll be back," I told him quietly. "I promise."

His ears twitched. Acknowledgment? Or just coincidence?

I stood carefully. Backed toward the door.

He didn't follow. Just watched me go.

I slipped through the door. Let the guards lock it behind me.

Only then did I let out the breath I'd been holding.

*I did it. I fed him. He let me close. He didn't hurt me.*

One of the guards looked at me with something like respect. "You're either very brave or very foolish."

"Both," I said honestly.

He almost smiled.

I walked back through the corridor. My legs were shaking. My hands still sticky with blood.

But I was alive.