Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 120

Davelina's POV

The woman climbed in gracefully despite her pregnant belly. Gestured for me to follow.

I hesitated at the step. Every instinct screamed danger. Warning.

*Something is wrong. This isn't right.*

"Get in," the woman said. Not unkindly. But firmly. "Now."

I had no choice. I was a slave. She was Lycan nobility. Refusing wasn't an option.

I climbed into the carriage. Sat on the bench across from her.

The door closed. The driver cracked his whip. We began to move.

"Where are we going?" I asked again. My voice shaking now. "Please. I need to know."

The woman gazed out the window. "You'll see soon enough."

---

The journey took hours. We left the main fortress behind. Traveled through wooded areas. Across bridges spanning dark ravines.

The landscape grew wilder. More desolate. The trees twisted and gnarled.

My unease grew with every mile.

*This is wrong. This is very wrong.*

"Please," I tried one more time. "My brother—Natasha—he'll worry if I don't come back. Can you at least send word that I'm safe?"

The woman finally looked at me. Her green eyes were cold. Calculating.

"Your brother will learn your whereabouts soon enough."

Something in her tone made my blood run cold.

*This isn't a rescue. This isn't kindness.*

*This is a trap.*

I lunged for the door. Tried to open it. To throw myself out of the moving carriage.

But it was locked. And before I could try the other side, the woman moved with inhuman speed.

She grabbed my wrist. Her grip like iron despite her pregnancy.

"Don't," she said quietly. "You'll only hurt yourself."

"Let me go!" I struggled. "Please! I haven't done anything wrong! Please!"

She held me effortlessly. Waiting for me to exhaust myself.

Finally, I stopped fighting. Collapsed back onto the bench. Tears streaming down my face.

"Why?" I whispered. "Why are you doing this?"

She looked out the window again. "We're almost there."

I followed her gaze. In the distance, a fortress rose from the rocky landscape. Smaller than the main fortress but no less imposing.

Dark stone. Twisted spires. An aura of menace.

*Sebastian's territory. It has to be.*

The carriage pulled up to the entrance. Guards opened the doors.

The woman climbed out gracefully. "Bring her," she ordered.

Rough hands grabbed me. Pulled me from the carriage.

I tried to fight. Tried to scream. But a hand clamped over my mouth.

They dragged me inside. Through corridors that smelled of decay and blood. Past rooms where I heard screaming. Crying. Pleading.

*This place is a nightmare. A torture chamber.*

We descended stairs. Down into darkness. Into what could only be a dungeon.

They threw open a door. Hurled me inside.

I hit the ground hard. The breath knocked from my lungs.

The door slammed shut. I heard the lock turn. Bolts sliding into place.

Darkness. Complete darkness. Not even a sliver of light.

I scrambled to my feet. Felt along the walls. Solid stone. No windows. No other exits.

Just four walls. A floor. A ceiling. And darkness.

A cell. A prison. A tomb.

I sank to the floor. Wrapped my arms around myself. And began to cry.

---

Natasha's POV

I returned to my room as the sun was setting. Exhausted. Covered in blood and fur from another day with Mordred.

But also... satisfied. Proud, even.

He'd eaten everything I fed him. Had let me stay with him for hours. Had even nuzzled my hand before I left.

Progress. Real, tangible progress.

*Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe I can help him.*

I cleaned myself as best I could with the water in my basin. Changed into cleaner clothes.

Then headed to Davelina's room to tell her about my day.

I knocked softly. "Davelina? It's me. Can I come in?"

No answer.

I knocked again. Louder. "Davelina?"

Still nothing.

Frowning, I opened the door.

The room was empty. Her bed untouched. No sign she'd been here since this morning.

*Maybe she's still working? The kitchen staff sometimes runs late if there's a banquet.*

I headed down to the kitchens. Found the head cook overseeing the evening meal preparation.

"Excuse me," I said. "I'm looking for my sister. Davelina. The slave who works here during the day?"

The cook looked up. "Oh. The girl who was doing double work today?"

"Yes. Is she still here?"

"No." The cook frowned. "She left hours ago. Mid-morning, actually. A Lycan lady came and took her."

My stomach dropped. "What? What Lycan lady?"

"I don't know her name. Young. Pregnant. Dark hair. Very commanding. Said she needed a personal attendant for the day."

*Pregnant. Dark hair.*

My mind raced through the Lycan women I'd encountered. But I couldn't place anyone matching that description who would need Davelina specifically.

"Did she say where they were going?" I asked urgently.

"No. Just that the girl would be gone for the day." The cook's frown deepened. "She should be back by now though. It's been hours."

Fear clawed at my chest. "Which direction did they go?"

"I don't know. Out of the fortress, I think. The lady had a carriage waiting."

*A carriage. She took Davelina out of the fortress in a carriage.*

I turned and ran. Back through the corridors. Looking for any other slaves who might have seen something.

But everyone I asked gave me the same answer. A pregnant Lycan woman. Dark hair. Took Davelina in a carriage. Hours ago.

And no one had seen her return.

I checked our rooms again. Still empty.

Checked the servant's quarters where we used to sleep. Nothing.

The dining halls. The laundry. The storage rooms.

Nothing. Davelina was nowhere in the fortress.

*She's gone. Someone took her and she's gone.*

Panic was setting in. My hands shaking. My breath coming in short gasps.

I ran through the corridors. Nearly colliding with servants. My mind racing with possibilities—each one worse than the last.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind me. A voice called out: "You! Stop!"

I turned. Two Lycan guards approached. One older with a scarred face. One younger, nervous-looking.

"You're the slave boy who works with the King," the scarred guard said. Not a question. A statement.

"Yes," I gasped. "I'm looking for my sister. A slave girl named Davelina. She was taken this morning and—"

"We know," the guard interrupted. "That's why we're here."

Hope and dread warred in my chest. "You know where she is?"