Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 122

Natasha's POV

The heavy carved doors burst open and two guards in black uniforms seized me by the arms, their fingers digging into my shoulders like iron clamps as they lifted me nearly off my feet and dragged me through the threshold.

I tried to struggle, tried to resist, but their grip was absolute.

"Don't squirm, little rat," one growled. "Being allowed into Lord Sebastian's chambers is either the greatest honor of your miserable life—or your final nightmare."

They swung me forward and released, sending me crashing onto thick crimson carpet. The impact drove the air from my lungs.

I pushed myself up slowly, arms shaking, and looked around.

The room was enormous, but it wasn't the size that made my stomach turn—it was everything else. The air felt thick and wrong, heavy with competing scents: musk and sweat, old blood soaked into stone over years, and underneath it all cloying incense that couldn't mask the rot beneath.

Massive windows revealed churning black ocean at sunset. Rich tapestries hung on the walls, but scattered among them were decorations that made bile rise—human limbs mounted like trophies, fingers splayed in terror, a polished ribcage between flickering sconces.

At the far end, Sebastian reclined on a velvet chaise near a roaring fireplace, a crystal goblet of dark red liquid in his hand. Those purple eyes watched me like a snake watching prey.

I forced myself into a kneeling position, head bowed, hands on thighs. Behind me, the guards retreated and the door closed with a heavy thud.

Alone. Completely alone with him.

Silence stretched, broken only by crackling fire and distant waves. Then crystal clinked on wood as he set down his goblet.

A door creaked open. Two servants entered, pushing someone between them.

Davelina.

My heart stopped. She stumbled in.

But she was alive. Here. Real.

Our eyes met and she lurched forward despite the servants, dropping beside me and grabbing my hands. Our fingers intertwined, squeezing tight.

Her eyes asked silently: *Are you okay?*

I nodded slightly, squeezing back.

"How very touching." Sebastian's voice cut through like a blade. "Save your disgusting family theatrics for hell."

His hand shot out, yanking me up and spinning me around. He tilted my head back, forcing me to expose my throat, then pressed his nose against my neck and inhaled deeply.

I went rigid with terror.

"You have a pleasant enough scent," he murmured, breathing in again. "But nothing particularly special. So what is it? What makes you different?"

"I—I don't understand, my lord."

His grip tightened. "Is your mother a witch? Do you dabble in dark magic? What aren't you telling us, child?"

"Nothing, my lord. Nothing at all."

His patience evaporated.

He grabbed my shoulders and hurled me across the room.

I crashed into the wall with devastating force. Before I could recover, he was there, pinning me, his hand digging into my waist through my shirt, squeezing and kneading.

"Soft," he hissed. "No wonder that mad King is interested in your kind. Such a little whore."

His hand moved, exploring. Suddenly his fingers froze. The smile faded.

"Or wait..." His voice took on a calculating edge. "Are you?"

His hand began moving upward, toward the binding cloth around my chest.

"Please!" Davelina threw herself forward, grabbing his sleeve. "Please, my lord! Have mercy on him! He's just a child who doesn't understand!"

Sebastian turned, eyebrow raised mockingly. "Mercy? Why? Are you offering yourself again?"

"Yes," Davelina said without hesitation. "Please. I'm willing."

Sebastian laughed without warmth. "So devoted. So pathetic. But you're not the one I want to bury myself in tonight."

He turned back, raising his hand. His fingers extended, nails lengthening into razor-sharp claws that gleamed in firelight.

He reached for my shirt, claws poised to tear—

The doors exploded inward with a crash.

"Hail Grand Lord Fergus!" a guard announced.

Sebastian's hand froze. His claws hovered inches from my chest as his head whipped toward the door.

"Fergus?"

Fergus strode in with measured steps, his presence filling the space. His mismatched eyes—one blood-red, one amber—swept the room, taking in everything: me pinned against the wall, Sebastian's extended claws, Davelina on her knees.

Something dangerous flickered in those eyes.

He walked forward until he stood between Sebastian and me, blocking access.

"Fergus," Sebastian said, forcing politeness as he lowered his hand and stepped back. "What an unexpected... honor. To what do I owe this visit?"

"The question," Fergus replied, tone mild but edged with steel, "is what are you doing, Lord Sebastian?"

"Punishment. The boy trespassed into Ashclaw uninvited."

"Did he?" Fergus's gaze sharpened. "And what prompted this trespass? Let me guess—you detained his sister. But tell me, what crime did she commit?"

Sebastian's jaw tightened. He searched for an answer. "She's human, Fergus. We don't need reasons to discipline their kind."

"Perhaps not for any other slave," Fergus agreed. "But not these two. Gregor and I executed specific tasks to acquire them. If they're to be punished, there should at least be proper justification. Wouldn't you agree?"

Sebastian moved closer, voice dangerous. "Since when do you care about such trivialities? Since when do you defend humans?"

"I don't," Fergus said calmly. "But these two have important purposes—satisfying the Beast's appetites. You remember what happens when his desires go unfulfilled, don't you? Do you want our people slaughtered again?"

Sebastian's hands clenched into fists, but he said nothing.

Fergus turned to us, voice commanding but less harsh. "Come with me. Both of you."

Davelina and I scrambled up, moving toward him on shaking legs.

"You think you can just waltz in here and take them?" Sebastian's voice was venomous. "You overestimate yourself, Fergus."

Fergus paused at the doorway, turning back with those unsettling eyes.

"What's the real issue here, Sebastian? If I didn't know better, I'd say this isn't about the girl at all. It's about the boy. You kidnapped his sister to lure him here. But why? Why all this elaborate staging?"

He let the question hang before continuing, each word heavy with accusation.

"If I knew less, I might suspect you simply wanted the boy dead."

"That's absurd!" Sebastian snarled.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," Fergus said calmly. "I'm merely speculating what conclusions I might draw if I were less informed. If I've misunderstood, then you have no reason to object to me taking them, do you?"

Tense silence filled the room. The two lords stared at each other.

Davelina and I stood side by side, shoulders touching, fingers gripping tight behind our backs.

Fergus broke the standoff with the one argument that couldn't be refuted.

"The King needs the boy, Sebastian. Right now. He's already restless. You and I both know what happens next if we don't act—he'll break free from confinement."

His voice remained steady. "The sooner you release them, the sooner we prevent catastrophe."