Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 119

Davelina's POV

The kitchen was sweltering. Steam rose from massive pots of boiling water. The heat from the ovens made sweat pour down my back.

I'd been working since dawn. Scrubbing floors. Hauling water. Peeling vegetables until my fingers ached.

But I didn't complain. Natasha was doing something far more dangerous. The least I could do was handle my own work without issue.

"You there! Girl!"

I looked up. The head cook—a heavy-set Lycan woman with perpetually flour-dusted hands—was glaring at me.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You're done with the floors?"

"Yes, ma'am. Just finished."

"Good." She wiped her hands on her apron. "Now you need to take on additional duties."

I blinked. "Additional duties?"

"Your brother's been reassigned," she said. Not unkindly, but matter-of-factly. "To work with the King. Which means we're short-handed. You'll need to cover his tasks as well as your own."

My heart sank. Natasha's old work had been brutal. Heavy lifting. Long hours. Tasks designed to break spirits.

"I understand," I said quietly. "What do you need me to do?"

She rattled off a list. Hauling coal to the furnaces. Scrubbing the massive cooking cauldrons. Carrying buckets of waste to the disposal area.

All the hardest, dirtiest jobs.

I worked through the morning without pause. My muscles screaming. My back aching. Sweat soaking through my dress.

By midday, I was exhausted. My vision swam. My hands trembled as I scrubbed yet another cauldron.

*Just a moment. Just need to rest for one moment.*

I set down the brush. Sank onto a nearby stool. Closed my eyes.

*Just thirty seconds. That's all I need.*

"LAZY WRETCH!"

The roar made me jump. My eyes flew open.

The overseer—a cruel-faced Lycan man who delighted in punishing slaves—stood over me. His face twisted with rage.

"Sitting down? While there's work to be done?"

"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I was just—I've been working all morning without break and I—"

"I don't care." He grabbed my arm. Yanked me to my feet. "You think slaves deserve rest? Deserve comfort?"

He dragged me toward the center of the kitchen. Other slaves stopped working. Watched with fearful eyes.

"This," the overseer announced loudly, "is what happens to lazy slaves who shirk their duties."

He shoved me forward. I stumbled. Caught myself on a table.

"Someone fetch my whip," he ordered. "This one needs a reminder of her place."

Terror flooded through me. *No. No, please.*

A younger Lycan hurried off. Returned moments later with a leather whip. Long. Wicked-looking.

The overseer took it. Tested it with a sharp crack in the air.

I flinched at the sound.

"Ten lashes," he announced. "For laziness and disrespect."

"Please," I begged. "Please, I wasn't being lazy. I've been working since dawn. I just needed a moment to—"

"Silence!" He raised the whip. "Turn around. Hands on the table."

I was shaking. My whole body trembling with fear.

*This is going to hurt. It's going to hurt so much.*

The other slaves watched. Some looked sympathetic. Others just looked relieved it wasn't them.

The overseer drew back his arm. The whip whistled as he prepared to strike.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Braced myself.

"STOP!"

The command rang through the kitchen. Sharp. Authoritative. Female.

I opened my eyes. Turned.

A Lycan woman stood in the doorway. Young. Beautiful. With long dark hair and sharp green eyes.

And visibly pregnant. Her belly swelled beneath her fine dress.

The overseer froze. The whip still raised. "My Lady, I—"

"Put that down," the woman said. Her voice was cold. Commanding. "Immediately."

The overseer lowered the whip. But his expression was mutinous. "This slave was caught shirking her duties. She needs to be disciplined."

"Does she?" The woman walked into the kitchen. Her gaze swept over me. Assessing. "She looks exhausted. How long has she been working today?"

"That's not—"

"Answer me." The woman's voice dropped dangerously low. "How long?"

The head cook stepped forward nervously. "Since dawn, my Lady. She's been doing double work. Her brother was reassigned and she's covering his tasks as well."

The woman's eyes narrowed. She looked at the overseer. "So you were about to whip a slave for taking a brief rest after working herself to exhaustion doing twice the normal workload?"

The overseer's jaw clenched. "Slaves don't get to decide when they rest. That's not how this works."

"No," the woman agreed. "But they also don't get whipped for reasonable exhaustion. Unless you want to explain to Lord Fergus why his slaves are too injured to work?"

The threat was clear. The overseer's face darkened. But he lowered the whip completely.

"As you say, my Lady."

The woman turned to me. "You. Come with me."

I stared. "What?"

"I require a personal attendant for the day," she said. "You'll accompany me. Now."

The overseer opened his mouth to protest. "But my Lady, she has work—"

"Which can be reassigned to someone else." The woman's tone left no room for argument. "Or are you suggesting your authority supersedes mine?"

The overseer went pale. "No, my Lady. Of course not."

"Good." She gestured to me. "Come along, girl. I don't have all day."

I hesitated. Looked at the head cook. She nodded slightly. *Go. Don't anger her.*

I stepped away from the table. Followed the pregnant Lycan woman out of the kitchen.

Behind me, I heard the overseer mutter something. But I didn't catch the words.

---

We walked through the fortress corridors. The woman moved with purpose. Confidence. Like she owned every space she entered.

Slaves and servants we passed immediately bowed. Pressed themselves against the walls to let her pass.

Even other Lycans showed her deference. Nodding respectfully. Murmuring greetings.

*Who is she? She must be important. Very important.*

After several minutes of silence, I gathered my courage. "Excuse me, my Lady? Where are we going?"

No response. She just kept walking.

I tried again. "My Lady, I appreciate you saving me from punishment. But I should really get back to my work. The head cook will—"

"Be fine without you," the woman interrupted. "I've already arranged for your absence to be excused."

"But—"

"No more questions."

Her tone was final. I fell silent.

We left the main fortress. Stepped outside into the courtyard.

A carriage waited there. Fine. Well-maintained. Pulled by two massive black horses.

*A carriage? Where is she taking me?*