Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 195

Fergus's POV

The war council had been going surprisingly well.

After yesterday's poisoning incident and my near-death experience, I'd expected chaos. Expected Gregor to withdraw his support, expected everything to fall apart.

Instead, Gregor had shown up this morning with a proposal.

"I'll support you," he'd said to Mordred. "Both of you. On one condition."

"Name it," Mordred had replied.

"When this is over, when Sebastian is dealt with, I want control of Blood Bay Harbor. And I want the position of First Advisor."

It was a steep price, but not unreasonable. Mordred had agreed immediately.

So now we sat in my war room, the three of us plus several trusted commanders, planning our strategy.

"Sebastian has the numbers," I was saying, pointing to the map spread across the table. "But we have better positioning. If we can draw him into a battle on our terms—"

Mordred suddenly went rigid.

I stopped mid-sentence. "Your Majesty?"

He didn't respond. His eyes had gone distant, unfocused, and his breathing had quickened.

"Mordred?" I said, more urgently this time.

His hands gripped the edge of the table so hard the wood cracked. His body began to tremble, muscles tensing and releasing in rapid succession.

"What's wrong with him?" Gregor asked, standing up and backing away slightly.

I knew what was happening.

He was losing control.

"Everyone out," I commanded. "Now!"

The commanders didn't need to be told twice. They fled the room, leaving just Gregor and me.

Mordred's eyes were changing, the pupils contracting to slits, the irises glowing red. His fingers elongated into claws, his teeth sharpening into fangs.

"Mordred, fight it," I said, moving closer cautiously. "Whatever this is, fight it."

But he wasn't listening. A low growl rumbled from his chest, growing louder, more feral.

"Fergus, we need to restrain him," Gregor said, his hand on his sword. "Before he—"

Mordred threw back his head and roared.

The sound was deafening, primal, filled with rage and desperation. The windows rattled in their frames. Somewhere in the castle, I heard glass shatter.

Then he was moving.

He didn't walk or run—he exploded into motion, his body shifting mid-stride into his full wolf form. He crashed through the door, splintering it into pieces, and took off down the corridor at impossible speed.

"Shit!" I cursed, already shifting into my own wolf form. "Gregor, with me!"

"What? Where is he going?"

"I don't know, but we can't let him go alone!"

Gregor hesitated for only a second before shifting as well. Together, we raced after our King.

Mordred was fast—faster than I'd ever seen him move. He tore through the castle like a force of nature, destroying everything in his path. Servants scattered before him, screaming.

He burst through the main doors and into the courtyard, not slowing for an instant.

"Mordred, stop!" I howled, but he didn't even acknowledge me.

He leaped over the castle wall—a jump that should have been impossible—and landed on the other side, already running.

Gregor and I followed, though we had to use the gate. By the time we made it through, Mordred was already disappearing into the forest.

"What the hell is happening?" Gregor panted as we ran.

I thought about yesterday. About Davelina calling to me through our mate bond when I was lost in the poison's madness. About how her voice, her presence, had been the only thing that could reach me.

"Someone's calling him," I said. "Through a bond."

"A bond? You mean like—"

"Like a mate bond. Yes."

"But that's impossible. Mordred doesn't have a mate."

"He does," I said grimly. "And she's in trouble."

We ran harder, pushing our bodies to their limits. But Mordred was still pulling ahead, driven by something beyond reason or control.

All we could do was follow and hope we reached him before he did something catastrophic.

Natasha's POV

The cart continued its steady pace, and I huddled in the corner, holding my shirt closed.

"You know," the toothless one said after a while, his eyes never leaving my body, "it's a shame we have to hand her over to Sebastian."

"Why's that?" the younger one asked.

"Because look at her." He gestured at me with a leer. "When's the last time you saw tits like that? And she's an Endurer. We could have some real fun with her."

"Sebastian's going to kill her anyway," the scarred man mused. "Probably torture her first. Make an example of her."

"Exactly," the toothless one said. "So why should we waste such a fine piece of ass? We caught her. We deserve a reward."

My blood ran cold. "No," I whispered. "Please, no—"

"We could get in trouble," the younger one said nervously, though his eyes were bright with interest.

"For what?" the toothless one scoffed. "She's already condemned. Sebastian wants her dead. What does it matter if we have a little fun first? Besides, who's going to tell? Her?" He laughed cruelly.

They were nodding now, agreeing, their eyes gleaming with lust.

"Please," I begged, my voice breaking. "Please don't do this. I haven't done anything wrong. I'm not a witch, I'm not—"

"Shut your lying mouth, whore," the scarred man snarled. He turned to his companions. "Let's find a good spot. Somewhere off the road where we won't be disturbed."

The cart veered off the main road, following a narrow track into the forest. After a few minutes, we emerged into a clearing—a small open space surrounded by dense trees.

"Perfect," the scarred man said with satisfaction. "Nice and private."

They stopped the cart and dismounted. I pressed myself against the far corner of the cage, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst.

"Please," I tried again, desperation making my voice high and thin. "Please, I'll do anything. Just let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear—"

"Oh, you'll do anything alright," the toothless one said with a nasty grin. "You'll do exactly what we tell you to do."

The scarred man unlocked the cage door. "Get her out."

Hands grabbed me—rough, cruel hands that didn't care when I cried out in pain. They dragged me from the cage and threw me to the ground. I landed hard on the packed earth, rocks and twigs digging into my skin.

"Strip her," the scarred man commanded. "I want to see everything."

"No!" I screamed, trying to scramble away. But there were too many of them.

They fell on me like wolves, tearing at my remaining clothes. My shirt was ripped away completely. My breeches were yanked down my legs, taking my undergarments with them. My boots were pulled off and tossed aside.

Within seconds, I was completely naked, sprawled on the ground, exposed to their hungry gazes.

"Holy fuck," the younger one breathed, his eyes roaming over my body. "Would you look at that."