Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 136

Mordred's POV

I held her unconscious form in my arms, her body limp and fragile against my massive chest. She was so small, so delicate, yet she had just given herself to me completely—fed me from her own body, offered herself without reservation, surrendered in a way that stirred something deep within me that I'd thought long dead.

My mate.

I could still taste her milk on my tongue, sweet and nourishing, unlike anything I'd ever experienced. Selene's milk sustained me, yes, but it was nothing compared to this. This was different. This was sacred. This was right in a way that transcended logic or reason.

Slowly, carefully, I began to shift. The transformation from beast to man was agonizing, requiring enormous amounts of energy that my still-recovering body could barely spare. My bones cracked and reformed, my muscles contracted and reshaped, my fur receded into skin. The process left me gasping.

Finally, I stood in my human form, naked and exhausted, cradling her against my chest.

I couldn't speak yet. My voice hadn't returned.

I reached for her discarded clothing, my hands shaking with exhaustion. The bindings first—I wrapped them around her chest carefully, hiding the evidence of her sex, covering the marks I'd left on her skin. Then her tunic, pulling it gently over her head, arranging it so she looked presentable.

When she was dressed, I lifted her into my arms again and moved toward the door of the den. I would take her back to her quarters, ensure she was safe in her own bed before anyone discovered what had happened.

But as I approached the corridor, I heard voices. Footsteps. Human footsteps, light and quick, accompanied by the rustle of skirts.

"Where could she be?" The voice was female, young, with a note of panic that made me pause.

"She has to be here somewhere. Maybe the King took her to the King's den?" Another female voice, this one more familiar. I recognized it—Davelina, the girl I'd mounted once in a moment of desperate need, the girl who smelled like Fergus now, who carried his scent like a brand.

Lucy and Davelina.

Relief washed through me. These were people she trusted.

I set her down in the corridor, positioning her carefully against the wall so she wouldn't fall. She stirred slightly but didn't wake, her head lolling to the side.

I retreated into the shadows of the den, watching as the two girls rounded the corner and spotted her.

"Nat!" Lucy cried out, rushing forward. "Oh god, what happened? Is she hurt?"

Davelina knelt beside her sister, her hands moving over Natasha's body, checking for injuries. "I don't see any blood. She's breathing normally. Maybe she just fainted?"

"We need to get her back to our room. Help me lift her."

Together, they managed to get Natasha upright, supporting her between them as they began to walk back down the corridor. I watched until they disappeared from sight, until I was certain my mate was safe.

Only then did I allow myself to collapse.

The transformation back to beast form happened almost involuntarily, my body unable to maintain the human shape any longer. I fell to all fours, my muscles screaming in protest, my energy completely depleted.

I crawled deeper into the den, into the darkest corner where the shadows were thickest, and let unconsciousness claim me.

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Sebastian's POV

I left the tavern immediately after witnessing the Beast's brutal execution of Brennan, my mind already racing with possibilities. The chaos and fear in that room had been palpable—exactly the kind of atmosphere I needed to push my agenda forward.

"We go back immediately." I ordered my guards as we exited Howling Citadel. " And send word to the higher lords—I want them assembled at my estate within two hours. Emergency council. Mandatory attendance."

"All the lords, my lord?" one guard asked.

"No. Only those who supported eliminating the Beast in the previous meeting. Matthias, Aldric, Cornelius, Viktor, and the others who showed sense. I don't want Fergus or Gregor anywhere near this discussion. Their time for input has passed."

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I went directly to my war room and began preparing. Maps were spread across the table, showing the layout of Howling Citadel and the King's den. Weapons were displayed along the walls—silver-tipped spears, enchanted blades, crossbows designed specifically for killing Lycans of royal blood. Everything we would need for the execution.

The lords began arriving within the hour, their faces tight with fear and barely suppressed panic. Perfect. Fear would make them compliant, would make them eager to act.

Lord Matthias arrived first, a stout man with graying hair and nervous eyes. "Sebastian, what in the name of the ancestors happened today? I heard the Beast killed Brennan in front of everyone—"

"It did," I confirmed. "Tore him apart like prey. Ripped him open from groin to sternum, crushed his skull in its jaws, and spat out the remains."

Matthias went pale. "Gods..."

"And that's why we're here," I said firmly. "To ensure it doesn't happen again."

The others arrived in quick succession—Lord Aldric, tall and severe; Lord Cornelius, young and ambitious; Lord Viktor, scarred and battle-hardened; and half a dozen others, all of them supporters of my plan to eliminate Mordred.

When they were all assembled, I closed the doors and turned to face them.

"Gentlemen, today we witnessed the complete degradation of our King. Mordred is gone. What remains is a mindless beast that kills without reason, without control, without mercy." I let my words hang in the air, watching their faces. "Brennan's death cannot be in vain. For the safety of our people, for the survival of our race, the Beast must die."

"Agreed," Lord Viktor said immediately, his scarred face hard. "I've been saying this for months. The creature is a threat to us all."

"But when?" Lord Cornelius asked. "How do we approach this without risking more lives?"

"We move quickly," I replied. "We cannot afford to wait any longer—every day we delay is another day that thing could rampage through our territories, killing our people. I say we do it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Lord Aldric looked thoughtful rather than skeptical. "That's aggressive, but... given what we saw today, perhaps necessary."