Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 196

Natasha's POV

I tried to cover myself with my hands, but the scarred man kicked them away. "Don't you dare hide yourself, whore. We want to see what we're getting."

They stood over me, staring, and I felt tears streaming down my face.

"Look at those tits," the toothless one said, practically drooling. "Big and soft, with those pretty pink nipples. I bet they taste sweet."

"And that pussy," the younger one added, his voice thick. "Fuck, it's perfect. All pink and tight-looking."

"She's got a nice ass too," the scarred man observed, circling around me. "Round and firm. I bet she screams real pretty when you fuck it."

"Please," I sobbed. "Please don't do this."

"Shut up," the scarred man said. He knelt beside me, his hand reaching out to grab my breast again. This time he squeezed hard, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "These are fucking perfect. No wonder the King couldn't resist."

His other hand slid down my stomach, heading toward the junction of my thighs. I tried to close my legs, but he forced them apart with brutal strength.

"Let's see if you're as tight as you look," he murmured, his fingers finding my entrance.

"No!" I screamed, trying to twist away. "Stop it! Please!"

He pushed a finger inside me, and I cried out at the intrusion. "Dry as a bone," he said with disappointment. "We'll have to fix that. Can't fuck her properly if she's not wet."

"I'll make her wet," the toothless one said eagerly. "Let me at those tits. I'll suck them till she's dripping."

"Good idea," the scarred man said, withdrawing his finger. "Get her ready for us. I want her nice and wet before I fuck her."

The toothless one knelt beside me, his hands reaching for my breasts. "Such pretty tits," he murmured. "Wasted on a lying whore like you."

His mouth closed over my nipple, and I whimpered in disgust and fear. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud, while his hand mauled my other breast.

"That's it," the scarred man encouraged. "Get her warmed up. I want to hear her moan like the slut she is."

I heard voices in the distance—people approaching. Hope flared in my chest.

"Help!" I screamed as loud as I could. "Please, someone help me!"

"Shut her up," the scarred man ordered.

The younger one clamped his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries. "Quiet, bitch."

A small group of travelers emerged from the tree line—a man and woman, middle-aged, with two younger people who might have been their children.

"What's going on here?" the man called out, his expression uncertain.

The scarred man stood up, adopting an air of authority. "We've caught a criminal. A witch and a whore who's been corrupting the King."

"A witch?" the woman gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"That's right," the toothless one said, finally releasing my nipple with a wet pop. "She disguised herself as a boy, snuck into the King's presence, and bewitched him. Made him abandon his duties. Made him weak and lustful."

"That's not true!" I tried to scream, but the hand over my mouth muffled my words into incomprehensible sounds.

"She's an Endurer," the scarred man continued. "A demon in human form, built to seduce and destroy. We're taking her to Lord Sebastian for judgment."

More people were gathering now, drawn by the commotion. I could see their faces—some shocked, some disgusted, some excited by the spectacle.

"But first," the scarred man said, his voice carrying over the crowd, "she needs to be punished. Needs to understand what happens to whores who corrupt our leaders."

He looked down at me, his smile cruel. "We're going to fuck her. Right here, right now. Teach her what she's good for. And when we're done—" He addressed the crowd. "Anyone who wants a turn is welcome to her. She's just a slave. Just a hole to be used."

The crowd murmured—some scandalized, some intrigued. But no one moved to help me.

The hand over my mouth released, and I immediately screamed, "Please! Please, you have to believe me! I didn't bewitch anyone! I'm not a witch!"

But they weren't listening. I could see it in their faces—the fear, the disgust, the morbid curiosity.

"Hold her down," the scarred man ordered, already fumbling with his breeches.

The toothless one grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head. The younger one grabbed my ankles, forcing my legs apart.

"No!" I sobbed, struggling uselessly against their grip. "Please, God, no!"

The scarred man knelt between my spread thighs, his cock already hard and jutting from his open breeches. "Let's see if an Endurer cunt feels as good as they say."

I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face, and reached out with everything I had.

*Mordred,* I thought desperately, putting every ounce of fear and desperation into the mental cry. *Please. Please, I need you. I'm going to die. Please help me.*

The scarred man's hand grabbed my thigh, spreading me wider. I could feel the head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

*Please,* I begged silently. *Please, please, please—*

A roar split the air.

It was like nothing I'd ever heard before—a sound of pure, primal rage that seemed to shake the very earth. Birds exploded from the trees, screeching in terror. The horses screamed and reared, breaking their tethers.

Everyone froze.

"What the fuck was that?" someone in the crowd whispered.

The roar came again, closer this time, and I heard it—the sound of something massive crashing through the forest. Trees cracked and fell. The ground trembled.

The crowd scattered, screaming, running in all directions.

My captors stood frozen, staring at the tree line with expressions of dawning horror.

And then he emerged.

A massive wolf, easily twice the size of any Lycan I'd ever seen in beast form. His fur was midnight black, his eyes glowing red with fury. Saliva dripped from jaws that could easily crush a man's skull. His claws—each one as long as my hand—dug into the earth with every step.

Mordred.

"Oh my God," the toothless one breathed, his grip on my wrists going slack. "It's the King."

"How?" the younger one stammered, releasing my ankles and stumbling backward. "How did he know? How did he find us?"

The scarred man was still between my legs, frozen in shock. "This is impossible. We're miles from the fortress. There's no way he could have—"

Mordred's gaze swept over the scene. Me, naked on the ground. The men surrounding me. The scarred man between my thighs, his cock still exposed.

Understanding dawned in those glowing red eyes, and what I saw there made my blood run cold.

Pure, murderous rage.

His lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing teeth like daggers. A growl rumbled from his chest, so deep and menacing that I felt it in my bones.

"Run!" the scarred man screamed, finally finding his voice. He scrambled backward, frantically trying to pull up his breeches.

But it was too late.

Mordred lunged.