Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 124

Fergus's POV

The Council Chamber had always been a place of cold calculation, but today the air itself seemed to crackle with tension, thick enough to choke on. I stood at my usual position near the northern pillar, arms crossed over my chest, watching the assembled lords and officials file in with expressions ranging from grim determination to barely-concealed anticipation.

Sebastian had been busy these past weeks. I'd received reports of his movements—traveling between territories, hosting private dinners with influential lords, sending emissaries to the outer islands. He'd been building something, laying groundwork, and today I would finally see what foundation he'd constructed beneath my feet.

Gregor took his seat to my left, his golden eyes flicking toward me with a warning look that confirmed my suspicions. He'd heard the rumors too, knew what was coming. Sebastian entered last, as always, but this time he was flanked by nearly a dozen lords I recognized from various territories—lords who rarely attended Council sessions, whose presence here today spoke volumes about the coordination that had gone into this moment.

The formalities were brief. Reports on mining operations, updates on the latest hunting expeditions, discussions of tribute quotas—all the mundane business of running our island territories. But everyone knew these were just preliminaries. The real reason we'd been summoned here sat unspoken in the center of the room like a coiled serpent waiting to strike.

Finally, Sebastian rose from his seat, and the chamber fell silent.

"My lords, council members, honored elders." His voice carried that smooth, poisonous courtesy he'd perfected over the decades. "I believe it's time we addressed the matter we've all been avoiding for far too long. The matter of the King."

Here it comes, I thought, my jaw tightening.

"Three weeks ago, during the slave auction, the Beast broke free from his confinement once again." Sebastian's voice grew harder, each word precisely calculated for maximum impact. "He burst into the Great Hall, terrorized our people, and came dangerously close to slaughtering everyone present. This was not the first such incident, and unless we take action, it will not be the last."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber—louder and more numerous than I'd expected. I saw heads nodding throughout the room, not just among Sebastian's known allies but among lords who'd previously remained neutral. He'd done his work well during those weeks of travel and private meetings.

"How many more times must we endure this?" Sebastian continued, his voice rising with theatrical passion. "How many more of our people must die before we admit the truth? The creature in that den is no longer our King. Mordred is gone, consumed by the Beast, and what remains is nothing but a rabid animal that poses a threat to every living soul on this island."

"Hear, hear!" voices called out from multiple corners of the chamber. The support was widespread, coordinated, overwhelming.

"The time has come to do what is necessary," Sebastian declared, his voice ringing with finality. "We must kill the Beast."

The chamber erupted in applause and shouts of agreement. I stepped forward, raising my voice to be heard over the tumult. "The situation is not as dire as Lord Sebastian claims. The human boy—Nathan—has been working with the King recenty. In that time, there have been no incidents, no outbursts, no violence. The King is stable—"

"A human?" One of the elder council members shot to his feet, his face flushed with outrage, cutting me off mid-sentence. "You've allowed a human slave to work with the King? To stand in his presence as though they were equals?"

The reaction was immediate and explosive, far more vehement than I'd anticipated. Sebastian must have prepared them for this revelation, primed them to react with maximum outrage.

"This is an abomination!" another voice shouted. "Have you forgotten why Mordred fell into madness in the first place? It was humans who attacked us! Humans who slaughtered our people during the Eclipse Night! Humans who drove our King to the breaking point!"

"And now you would trust one of them—one of those treacherous creatures—to tend to him?" A lord from the eastern territories stood, his voice shaking with rage. "You would allow a human to have influence over our King? This is madness, Fergus! This is betrayal!"

The chamber descended into chaos, voices rising in a cacophony of anger and accusation. I tried to speak, tried to explain that the boy had accomplished what none of us could, but my words were drowned out by the roar of outrage that Sebastian had so carefully orchestrated.

"The boy has brought stability—" I began.

"Stability?" Sebastian's voice cut through the noise like a blade. "Or has he simply lulled the Beast into a false sense of security? And even if this temporary calm is real, what happens when it ends? What happens when the human fails, when the Beast's nature reasserts itself?"

One of the senior military commanders stood, his scarred face grim. "Lord Sebastian speaks truth. And I would add this—if we are to act, we should act now, while the Beast is calm. This human boy has given us an unexpected advantage: the creature is docile, predictable in his routines. This is the perfect opportunity to strike with minimal casualties to our forces."

"Exactly!" another lord chimed in, and I recognized him as one of Sebastian's dinner guests from two weeks ago. "Why wait for him to break free again? Why risk more of our people when we could end this threat while he's pacified? The human's influence—whatever it may be—has created ideal conditions for execution."

The logic was coldly pragmatic and undeniably sound. Strike while the enemy is weak, while he's lulled into false security. Use the very calm I'd been touting as progress as a weapon against him.

"We've waited decades for an opportunity like this," another voice called out. "The Beast is calm, contained, unsuspecting. Our casualties will be minimal. We may never get another chance this favorable."

The chamber erupted in agreement, voices building on each other in a crescendo of support for Sebastian's proposal. I looked around and saw the truth written clearly on every face: this wasn't a debate. This was a coordinated political maneuver, and I was surrounded.