Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 131

Natasha's POV

"Take it off yourself," Brennan commanded, releasing my wrists suddenly. "Unwrap those bindings, or I'll cut them off and you'll have nothing to hide behind tomorrow. Do it. Now."

My hands shook violently as I reached for the knot at my side, my fingers fumbling with the fabric, barely able to grasp it.

Tears blurred my vision as I slowly began to unwrap the bindings, each loop revealing more of my chest, more of the truth I'd worked so hard to conceal. The cloth fell away strip by strip, and I wanted to die, wanted to disappear, wanted to be anywhere but here.

Finally the last strip fell away completely, and my breasts were revealed.

What happened next shocked us both into momentary silence.

My breasts, freed from their confinement, were swollen and heavy, larger than they'd been just days ago. The nipples were dark and prominent, standing erect in the cold air. And from those nipples, thin streams of white liquid were leaking, running down the curves of my breasts in small rivulets that gleamed in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls.

Milk.

I was lactating.

"What the hell?" Brennan breathed, his eyes wide with shock and unmistakable excitement, his pupils dilating as he stared at my milk-leaking breasts. "Are you pregnant? Is there a bastard growing in your belly?"

"I don't know!" The words came out as a sob, broken and desperate. I looked down at my own body in confusion and horror, unable to understand what I was seeing. My stomach was still flat, showing no signs of pregnancy, no swelling or roundness that would indicate a child growing inside me. But the evidence was undeniable—my breasts were producing milk, my body preparing to feed an infant that might or might not exist.

Could it be Mordred's child? That was impossible, wasn't it? But he did cum inside me multiple times

The mate bond, that voice in my head whispered. The mate bond could do strange things, could trigger biological changes, could prepare a female's body for breeding even before conception occurred. I'd heard whispered stories from other slaves, tales of Lycan mates whose bodies changed in response to the bond, whose fertility increased, whose very biology shifted to accommodate their mate's seed.

Was that what was happening to me? Was my body preparing itself to carry Mordred's child, to bear the offspring of a Beast?

"God, I'm the luckiest bastard alive," Brennan said, his voice thick with lust, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. His hands cupped my breasts roughly, testing their weight, squeezing hard enough to make me whimper. "Look at you. A secret girl, and she's lactating. This is better than I could have imagined. Better than any fantasy I've had."

He squeezed harder, and more milk leaked out, coating his fingers in white liquid. He brought them to his mouth, tasting, and groaned with pleasure, his eyes rolling back slightly. "Sweet," he muttered, licking his fingers clean. "So fucking sweet. Like honey and cream."

"Please," I begged, trying to cover myself with my hands, trying to preserve some shred of dignity even as he violated me. "Please don't do this—"

"Oh, I'm going to do much more than this," he said, his free hand moving to the fastenings of his trousers, working them open. I could see the bulge there, could see how hard he was, how excited my exposure had made him. "But first, let's discuss the terms of our arrangement. I'll keep your secret—won't tell the lords that there's a girl running around pretending to be a boy, deceiving everyone, making fools of them all. But in exchange, you belong to me now. You do exactly what I say, when I say it, however I say it, or I expose everything. Understand?"

"No, please, you can't—" I tried to sit up, tried to escape, but he pushed me back down, his hand on my chest, his palm pressing against my milk-leaking breasts.

"I can, and I will. When I call for you, you come to me. You do whatever I want, whenever I want it. You let me use this pretty little body however I please. And if you refuse, if you tell anyone about this, I'll deny everything. I'm a Lycan warrior, a trusted member of Lord Roderick's guard, and you're just a human slave. Who do you think they'll believe?" His smile turned vicious, cruel. "And if they don't believe me, well, your pretty sister will pay the price. I'll make sure she suffers for your disobedience. I'll make her scream until her voice gives out."

Despair washed over me, cold and suffocating, drowning me in helplessness. He had me trapped, completely and utterly trapped. If I refused, he'd expose me and hurt Davelina. If I complied, I'd become his plaything, his secret toy to use and abuse whenever he wanted.

"Yes," I whispered, the word tasting like ash in my mouth, like poison, like death. "I understand."

"Good girl." He lowered his head to my breast, his mouth closing over my nipple, and began to suck.

The sensation was overwhelming—sharp pleasure mixed with pain as he drew the milk from my breast with greedy, hungry pulls. I cried out, my hands pushing weakly at his head, trying to dislodge him, but he was immovable, his mouth working at my breast while his free hand kneaded the other, squeezing more milk from the swollen flesh.

"No!" I sobbed, trying to push him away, my hands tangling in his hair. "Stop, please stop—it hurts—"

He bit down on my nipple, hard enough to make me scream, then released it with a wet pop, milk dripping from his lips and down his chin. "Delicious," he growled, then moved to my other breast, repeating the process while I writhed beneath him, caught between unwanted arousal—my traitorous body responding to the stimulation despite my mind's horror—and genuine distress.

He sucked harder, drawing more milk from my breast, and I could feel my body responding, could feel more milk letting down, flowing faster in response to the stimulation. It was a biological response, I knew, the same response that would feed an infant, but having it triggered by this monster felt like the ultimate violation.

Then his hand moved lower, between my legs, and I felt his finger probe at my entrance. Despite everything—despite the fear and the violation and the horror of the situation—my body had responded to his attention in that traitorous way it always seemed to when faced with Lycan dominance.

I was wet, could feel the slickness between my thighs, my body preparing itself for penetration even as my mind screamed in protest.

He pushed one thick finger inside me without warning, without preparation, and I screamed at the intrusion, my body clenching around the invasion.