Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 183

Mordred's POV

The Council Chamber.

The great hall was already filled when I entered, air thick with tension and the scent of too many Lycans packed into one space. The three Wolf Lords sat in their customary positions.

Behind them sat the lesser lords—perhaps twenty of them, each ruling smaller territories. Their faces ranged from openly hostile to carefully neutral, and I could feel the weight of their judgment as I made my way to the throne.

Conversation died as I took my seat. I let my gaze sweep over the assembled lords, noting who met my eyes and who looked away, cataloging alliances and enmities with the ease of long practice.

Sebastian broke the silence first, voice dripping with contempt. "Your Majesty. How gracious of you to finally join us."

I kept my expression neutral, though the beast stirred at his tone. "Lord Sebastian. I trust there's a good reason for this assembly?"

"A good reason?" Sebastian rose, movements sharp with anger. "Your Majesty disappears for two entire days without a word, without explanation, without leaving instructions for governing your kingdom, and you ask if there's a good reason?"

Murmurs rippled through the assembled lords. Several nodded in agreement. I forced myself to remain calm, not to let Sebastian's provocation draw me into a confrontation I wasn't ready for.

"I was attending to personal matters," I said evenly. "Matters that required my immediate attention."

"Personal matters." Sebastian's laugh was harsh and mocking. "While your kingdom falls apart. In the two days of your absence, Your Majesty, there was a slave uprising in the Eastern territories. Three villages worth of humans attempted escape. We waited for your judgment, for your orders, but where were you?"

He paused, letting his words sink in, playing to the audience of lesser lords. "Or perhaps," he continued, voice dropping to a silky purr, "Your Majesty was too occupied with more... pleasurable pursuits to concern himself with such trivial matters as the stability of his realm?"

The implication hung in the air like poison. I felt my control begin to slip, felt the beast rising in response to the challenge. My vision started to tinge red, and I had to dig my claws into the throne's arms to keep from launching myself at Sebastian's throat.

"Careful, Lord Sebastian," I said, voice dropping to a growl. "You're dangerously close to overstepping."

"Am I?" He spread his hands in false innocence. "I'm merely stating facts, Your Majesty. Two days. Two entire days where no one knew where you were or what you were doing. Two days where criminals went unpunished, disputes went unresolved, and your kingdom drifted without guidance."

He began to pace, warming to his subject, and I could see other lords leaning forward, hanging on his words. "The execution decisions you were supposed to make? Delayed. Prisoners rotting in cells while we wait for your judgment. The territorial dispute between Lord Aldric and Lord Theron? Still unresolved, and they've nearly come to blows. The training of the royal guard? Neglected. Morale at an all-time low."

Sebastian turned to face me fully, expression a mask of concern that didn't hide the triumph in his eyes. "Your Majesty has been... unstable for decades. We've all made allowances, out of respect for what you once were. But when you can't even fulfill the most basic duties of kingship, when you abandon your throne for days at a time to indulge in whatever whims strike your fancy..." He let the sentence trail off, shaking his head sadly. "One has to wonder if you're still fit to sit on that throne at all."

The chamber erupted in whispers, lords exchanging meaningful glances. I felt the ground shifting beneath me. This was more than Sebastian's usual posturing—this was a calculated attack, designed to undermine my authority before the entire council.

Before I could respond, Fergus rose, voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "That's enough, Lord Sebastian. You go too far."

"Do I?" Sebastian turned to face him, expression hardening. "Or am I simply saying what everyone else is thinking? His Majesty has the right to rest when needed, yes, but two days? Two days spent at a certain lord's estate, no doubt enjoying the... hospitality?"

The implication was clear. Several lords smirked, looking at me with a mixture of contempt and prurient curiosity. Sebastian was painting a picture of a king so lost in debauchery that he'd forgotten his duties, and the image was taking hold.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Fergus said, voice tight with barely controlled anger. "His Majesty's whereabouts are his own business."

"Are they?" Sebastian's voice rose. "When those whereabouts involve abandoning the kingdom? When they involve spending days on end with some woman while the realm burns?"

"Better than spending your time hoarding weapons and building a private army," Fergus shot back. "Should we discuss what you've been doing in the Southern territories, Lord Sebastian? The way you've been stockpiling arms and recruiting soldiers far beyond what's necessary for defense?"

Sebastian's face flushed with anger. "I train my forces to protect my lands! Unlike some, I don't neglect my duties in favor of... other pursuits. I don't abandon my responsibilities because I'm too busy rutting like a beast in heat!"

The words hit like a physical blow. I felt the last threads of my control begin to fray. My vision went red, claws extending as the beast surged forward, demanding blood, demanding that I tear out Sebastian's throat for his insolence.

"Enough!" My voice came out as a roar that shook the rafters, and every lord in the chamber flinched. I rose to my feet, eyes blazing, and felt the shift beginning—felt my body start to change as the beast fought for dominance.

The chamber fell silent, every eye fixed on me. I could see the fear in their faces, could smell it rising like smoke. This was what Sebastian wanted—to provoke me into losing control before the entire council, to prove his point about my instability.