Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 163

Davelina's POV

Fergus tore into him methodically, deliberately, making each wound more brutal than the last. Claws ripped through flesh like paper, teeth tore at muscle and sinew with savage efficiency. The Lycan's screams grew weaker and weaker, becoming wet gurgles as blood filled his lungs, until they finally stopped altogether.

And then there was silence.

Fergus stood among the carnage, blood dripping from his claws and muzzle, steam rising from the hot gore in the cold night air. His chest heaved with each breath, his entire body radiating violence and barely contained rage.

Slowly, he turned toward me.

I pressed myself back against the tree, my whole body shaking with terror, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst.

His eyes—those ice-blue eyes I'd looked into so many times with tenderness—were wild, feral, completely devoid of recognition. He looked at me the way a predator looks at prey, with hunger and possession and something darker I couldn't name.

"Lord Fergus?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "It's me. It's Davelina."

He didn't respond. Just took a step toward me, then another, his movements predatory and deliberate, his claws flexing with each step.

"Please," I said, tears streaming down my face. "Please, it's me. You know me. You saved me."

He opened his jaws, revealing rows of sharp teeth still stained with blood and bits of flesh, and let out a low growl that vibrated through my bones and made my bladder clench with fear.

That broke something inside me.

I ran.

I didn't think, didn't plan, just turned and fled into the forest, my torn dress catching on branches, my bare feet stumbling over roots and stones. Behind me, I could hear him following—heavy footfalls that shook the ground, the sound of branches snapping like twigs, that terrible growling that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

"Fergus, please!" I sobbed as I ran, my lungs burning, my legs trembling. "It's me! It's Davelina! Please remember me!"

But he didn't stop. Didn't slow down. If anything, he was getting closer, and I could hear his breathing now—deep, ragged pants that sounded more animal than human.

I could feel him right behind me, could almost feel his breath on my neck, and then—

His hand closed around my arm, yanking me backward with such force I was lifted off my feet before crashing to the ground. The impact knocked the air from my lungs, and I gasped, trying to breathe, trying to scream.

He loomed over me, massive and terrifying, his claws digging into my skin hard enough to draw blood. I could see every detail of his transformed face—the elongated muzzle, the sharp teeth, the eyes that burned with inhuman intensity.

"Please," I begged, crying so hard I could barely speak, my whole body shaking with terror. "Please don't hurt me. What's wrong with you? Fergus, please, it's me! It's Davelina!"

For a moment, nothing happened. He just stood there, staring down at me with those wild eyes, his chest heaving, saliva dripping from his jaws.

And then, slowly, something changed.

The wildness in his eyes began to fade, replaced by confusion, then recognition, then absolute horror.

The transformation reversed itself—fur receding, bones cracking and reforming, body shrinking—until Lord Fergus knelt before me in human form, naked and covered in blood that wasn't his own.

"Davelina," he gasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "Oh God, Davelina, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I was still crying, still shaking, unable to process what had just happened, unable to reconcile the gentle lord I knew with the beast that had just chased me through the forest.

"What..." I managed through my tears. "What was that? What happened to you?"

Fergus looked down at his hands—still stained with blood, still trembling—and his face twisted with anguish.

"You've been in my head for months," he said, his voice rough and broken. "Every day, every night. I've thought about you until I felt like I was going mad. It's been driving me insane."

He looked up at me, and the pain in his eyes was almost unbearable to witness.

"And tonight, I caught your scent at the feast. Just a hint of it on the wind, and it was like... like something inside me snapped. All I could think about was finding you."

His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight with barely controlled emotion.

"And then I saw you with him. With that man. Walking into the woods together, alone, and my beast... it went insane. It thought you were choosing him over me, that you were going to let him touch you, fuck you, and I just... I lost control completely. The beast took over, and I couldn't stop it, couldn't think, could only feel this rage that you were with someone else."

He reached out as though to touch my face, then stopped himself, his hand falling back to his side as though he didn't trust himself.

"Tell me," he said, his voice dropping to something almost dangerous, something that made my core clench despite my fear. "Why were you out here with him? Were you planning to let him touch you? To fuck you?"

The jealousy in his voice, the raw possessiveness, should have frightened me. Should have made me angry.

Instead, it broke something loose inside me—all the longing and desire and desperate need I'd been suppressing for three months, all the nights I'd touched myself thinking of him, all the times I'd bitten back his name when I came.

"No!" I cried out, the word torn from somewhere deep inside me. "I only want to fuck you! Only you!"

I felt my face flush with mortification at what I'd just said, at how crude and desperate I sounded.

But I couldn't take it back. Didn't want to take it back.

Because it was true.

Fergus's eyes widened, his pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the blue, and I saw the exact moment control slipped away from him again—not to the beast this time, but to something equally primal.

"Say that again," he commanded, his voice dropping to a growl that sent heat flooding between my thighs.

"I only want you," I whispered. "No one else. Just you."

He moved toward me with clear intent, and I knew what was about to happen, knew I should probably stop it, should think about consequences and propriety and all the reasons this was impossible.

But I didn't want to stop it.