Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 198

Natasha's POV

He was studying my face now, really looking at me for the first time since he'd arrived.

I saw the moment recognition dawned. Saw his eyes widen, saw understanding and disbelief war across his features.

"You look like Natasha," he said slowly. "You look exactly like her. How is that possible? Who are you really?"

*I'm sorry,* I thought desperately, tears burning in my eyes. *I'm so sorry. I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you.*

"Oh, this is delicious," Sebastian said with a laugh. "You really don't know, do you?"

Fergus stepped forward quickly, his expression dark. "Sebastian—"

"What?" Sebastian's smile widened. "Don't tell our dear King the truth? That this little creature has been deceiving us all for months?"

He turned to address the growing crowd, his voice ringing with theatrical indignation. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to the truth. This is not Nathan, the slave boy. This is a woman. A female who has been living among us in disguise, breaking our laws, deceiving us!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd. I saw shock, disgust, anger on their faces.

I looked at Mordred, desperate to explain, to make him understand.

But his face had gone cold. Distant. The warmth I'd seen moments ago had vanished, replaced by something hard and unreadable.

*Please,* I thought. *Please look at me. Please let me explain.*

"A woman has dared to live in Howling Citadel under false pretenses for months," Sebastian continued, clearly enjoying himself. "This crime alone is punishable by death!"

"Everything is as you see it," one of Sebastian's men added. "Our men were just bringing her to justice! Yet the King has killed them!"

"This case requires no trial," Sebastian declared, his voice cutting through the crowd's murmurs. "For the verdict has already been rendered. By the power vested in me as a Lord of this realm, I declare you guilty of identity fraud, gross deception, betrayal of the monarchy, and numerous other grievous crimes we may yet discover."

He pointed at me with theatrical flourish. "You will be executed for your crimes. You will be held in the dungeons while the Lords deliberate on the manner of your execution. No food. No water."

"Burn the witch!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"Burn her!" others echoed.

"Humans are the scum of the earth!"

I tried to speak, tried to defend myself, but my voice came out as barely a whisper. "Your Majesty, please, I can explain—"

But Mordred wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Fergus.

"Is this true?" he asked, his voice flat. "Has she been deceiving us?"

Fergus's jaw tightened. "It's... complicated, Your Majesty."

"How is it complicated?" Mordred demanded. "Either she's been lying about who she is, or she hasn't."

"She has," Fergus admitted reluctantly. "But there are reasons—"

"I don't care about reasons!" The rage was building in Mordred's voice again. "She lied. She infiltrated my fortress under false pretenses. She—"

"She saved your life," Fergus interrupted, his voice sharp and firm.

Mordred went still.

I held my breath, watching his face, trying to read his expression.

"What?" he said finally.

Fergus took a deep breath. "Before you regained your sanity, you raped her. Twice. Both times should have killed her, but she survived because she's an Endurer."

I saw Mordred flinch, saw pain flash across his features.

*He didn't know,* I realized. *He doesn't remember.*

"And afterward," Fergus continued, his voice gentler now, "when you were at your worst, when the madness had you completely, she stayed. She cared for you. She helped bring you back from the edge."

"I don't remember," Mordred said, his voice hollow. "I don't remember any of that."

"I know. You lost those memories when your mind healed. But it happened." Fergus stepped closer, lowering his voice. "And there's something else you need to know. She's your mate, Mordred. Your true mate. That's why you can feel her, why you responded to her call. That's why you went berserk when she was in danger."

Mordred's eyes snapped to mine, and I saw shock and disbelief and something else—something that made my heart race.

*Please,* I thought. *Please believe him. Please.*

"My mate?" Mordred repeated, still looking at me. "But she's human. She's—"

"An Endurer," Fergus finished. "Which changes everything."

I saw understanding dawn in Mordred's eyes. Saw him piecing it together—the connection he'd felt during my heat, the obsession afterward, the pull that had brought him here today.

"I thought..." he started, then stopped. "I felt something. During her heat, and after. But I didn't believe it could be real. I thought there had to be another explanation. I was in denial. I thought there must be another truth..."

He looked at me, and I saw such conflict in his eyes.

"So that's how it is," he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. "All this time..."

"Well, isn't this touching," Sebastian said sarcastically. "But it changes nothing. She's still a criminal. She still needs to be punished."

The crowd was growing larger by the minute, more people arriving from the nearby settlements, drawn by the commotion. And they were getting louder, more aggressive.

"Kill her now!" someone shouted.

"Execute the witch!" another voice called.

"Burn the human whore!"

Sebastian's soldiers moved toward me, clearly intending to take me into custody.

Mordred stepped between them and me.

I felt a surge of hope so intense it made me dizzy.

His body shifted partially—claws extending, fangs lengthening, eyes glowing red.

"No," he said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute command.

The soldiers froze, caught between their lord's orders and their king's command.

---

Sebastian's POV

I watched Mordred position himself protectively in front of the girl, and had to suppress a smile.

Perfect. He was doing exactly what I'd hoped he would.

But then I noticed something that made my satisfaction falter slightly.

Their men approaching.

I recognized the banners—Fergus's gray and white, Gregor's blue and silver.