Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 126

Natasha's POV

The news spread through Howling Citadel like wildfire. By midday, every soul within these walls knew: the Council had issued the execution decree. The Beast would die.

I heard it first from a passing guard. "About time they put that monster down. Should've done it decades ago."

I stood frozen, my mind struggling to process what I'd just heard.

*Execution decree. The Beast would die.*

I somehow made my way back to the room, my feet moving on autopilot while my thoughts spiraled into chaos.

It couldn't be true. Fergus had promised that as long as I could keep Mordred calm, they would give us time. Now I'd just spent less than a week with him.

Mordred had been calm, responding to my presence in ways that suggested the man he'd once been might still exist somewhere beneath the Beast.

And now they were going to kill him.

I reached our room and closed the door, leaning against the heavy wood as my legs threatened to give out. The space was empty—Davelina must still be working—and I was grateful for the solitude.

But the moment I was alone, the tears refused to come. Instead, I felt something else: a deep, wrenching ache in my chest, as though someone had reached inside and squeezed my heart with an iron fist. It was physical pain, sharp and undeniable, radiating outward in waves that made it difficult to breathe.

I pressed my hand against my chest, feeling my heart hammering beneath my palm. The pain intensified, and with it came an overwhelming sense of loss, of grief so profound it threatened to drown me. But it wasn't just my grief—this was something else, something that felt like it was coming from outside myself, bleeding into my consciousness through channels I didn't understand.

*The mate bond.*

I'd felt it before in smaller ways—the pull toward the King's den, the sense of rightness in Mordred's presence. But this was different. This was raw and overwhelming, a connection so deep it transcended rational thought.

I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to my chest, arms wrapped around myself. The pain in my chest didn't fade; if anything, it grew stronger, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat.

*They're going to kill him. They're going to kill him, and I can't stop it.*

The door opened, and Davelina entered, her arms full of folded linens. She took one look at my face and dropped them immediately, crossing the room to kneel beside me.

"Natasha? What's wrong?" Her hands found my shoulders, gripping tight, and the concern in her voice finally broke through the numbness holding the tears at bay.

I couldn't speak. I could only shake my head as the first hot tears spilled down my cheeks, followed by more, until I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. Davelina pulled me into her arms without another word, cradling me against her chest.

"Shh, it's okay, I've got you," she murmured, one hand stroking my short hair. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Just breathe."

She held me through it, never asking questions, just offering steady comfort until the storm finally began to subside. When I could finally draw breath without it hitching, when the tears had slowed, she pulled back just enough to look at my face.

"Tell me," she said softly. "Tell me what's happened."

"The Council," I managed, my voice hoarse and broken. "They've issued an execution decree. They're going to kill the King."

Davelina's eyes widened, but she didn't look surprised. "When?"

"I don't know. Soon. They said preparations would begin immediately."

"Oh, Natasha." Davelina pulled me close again, and I buried my face against her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of her—soap and kitchen herbs and the faint smell of the sea that still clung to both of us.

We sat like that for a long time, the silence broken only by my occasional shuddering breaths.

Finally, I pulled back, wiping at my face. "I have to tell you something," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Something I haven't told anyone."

Davelina nodded, waiting.

"Last night, I couldn't sleep." The words came slowly, each one feeling like a confession. "I kept thinking about him, about Mordred. There was something in his eyes during our last session. Something that looked almost... aware. Almost human."

I took a shaky breath. "I went to the King's den. In the middle of the night. The guards were changing shifts, and I slipped past them. I pushed open the door, and he was there, lying in the darkness. When he saw me, he didn't growl or threaten. He just... watched me. Waiting."

My voice dropped even lower, trembling. "I went inside, Davelina. I walked right up to him, and I lay down beside him."

"He allowed it," I continued, my voice breaking. "He not only let me enter his territory; I slept in his arms, cushioned against his soft, furry chest and his muscular thighs. I buried my fingers in his mane-like hair, and he just... let me. It was like he'd been waiting for me to come to him."

"Oh my God..." Davelina swallowed hard, her face pale. "Oh, Natasha. You're in so deep."

"I know." The admission came out as barely more than a whisper. "I know it's insane. I know he's dangerous, that he's killed people. But when I'm with him, I don't feel afraid. I feel safe. Protected. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

I looked up at my sister, seeing my own confusion and fear reflected in her eyes.

Davelina was silent for a long moment, her expression cycling through shock, concern, and finally settling on reluctant understanding. She reached up to cup my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away fresh tears.

"The mate bond," she said quietly. "Lucy told me about it. I didn't want to believe it could happen so quickly, so completely. But looking at you now..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "You really are bound to him, aren't you?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

"And he feels it too," Davelina continued. "That's why he let you into his den, why he's been so calm with you. He recognizes you as his mate."

"What am I going to do?" The question came out as a broken plea. "How am I supposed to just stand by and let them kill him? But what can I do?"

Davelina pulled me close again, and I felt her own tears dampening my hair.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know, Natasha. But we'll figure something out."