Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 199

Sebastian's POV

Lord Gregor was standing beside Mordred, his hand on his sword, his expression resolute. And behind him, his soldiers had formed a defensive line, clearly prepared to fight alongside the King.

*Damn it,* I thought. *He's chosen his side.*

I'd been counting on Gregor staying neutral, or better yet, siding with me. His forces would have tipped the balance decisively in my favor.

But now...

I did a quick assessment of the situation. I had roughly two hundred soldiers here—a significant force. Mordred had maybe fifty, including Fergus's men and Gregor's contingent.

On paper, we had the advantage. We outnumbered them four to one.

But Mordred himself was worth at least one hundred men in combat. I'd just watched him tear through three trained soldiers like they were nothing. And Fergus was nearly as formidable. Add Gregor to the mix, and suddenly the odds weren't as favorable as they appeared.

More importantly, if we fought now and Mordred survived—which he almost certainly would—he'd retreat to his fortress and we'd be at open war immediately.

And my forces weren't ready for that. Not yet.

I needed another two days, maybe three, to complete my preparations. To bring in all my allies, to position my troops, to secure my supply lines.

If we went to war today, I might win. But it would be costly, bloody, and uncertain.

No. Better to wait. Better to let him think he'd won, then crush him when the time was right.

Now I had a plan in mind.

I made my decision.

"Lord Gregor," I said, my voice carrying across the clearing. "I see you've chosen your side."

Gregor's jaw tightened, but he didn't back down. "I stand with my King."

"How noble," I said with a sardonic smile. "I hope you don't come to regret that decision."

The tension in the clearing was palpable. My soldiers had their hands on their weapons. Mordred's forces were in defensive positions. One wrong move and this would turn into a bloodbath.

I could see it in Mordred's eyes—he was ready to fight. Ready to die if necessary to protect the girl.

But I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

"Surely you're not trying to interfere with the lawful punishment of a criminal," I said to Mordred, my voice dripping with false concern. "That wouldn't be appropriate, Your Majesty."

Shocked whispers rippled through the crowd. I could see it on their faces—confusion, betrayal, anger.

This was good. This was exactly what I needed.

Mordred took a deep breath, and I saw him steel himself for what he was about to say.

"She is my mate," he declared, his voice ringing across the clearing.

The crowd gasped. Perfect.

"Without her help, I would never have recovered my sanity," Mordred continued. "I will not allow you to take her."

The crowd erupted in shocked murmurs and angry shouts.

"His mate?" someone shouted. "A human?"

"The King has truly gone mad!"

"He's betraying us for a human slave!"

I let the anger build for a moment, then spoke again.

"Your mate?" I said, letting disbelief and disgust color my voice. "She's a human! Have you forgotten why you went mad in the first place? Have you forgotten what humans did to us? To your family?"

I saw Mordred's face go pale, saw old pain resurface. Good.

"They killed so many of us," I continued, addressing the crowd now. "They slaughtered our people, burned our homes, murdered our children. They killed the King's entire family—his parents, his siblings, everyone he loved. That's what drove him to madness. That's what broke him."

The crowd was nodding now, their faces hard with remembered grief and hatred.

"And now," I said, my voice rising with righteous fury, "he wants to take one of them as his mate? He wants to make a human his Queen?"

"She's not just human!" someone in the crowd shouted. "She's an Endurer! A witch!"

"Burn the witch!" The chant started up again, louder this time. "Burn the witch! Burn the witch!"

I could see Mordred's forces tensing, preparing for a fight.

I looked at Gregor again, at his soldiers standing ready. At Fergus in his wolf form, massive and deadly. At Mordred himself, covered in blood, his eyes glowing with protective fury.

"Sebastian," Mordred said, his voice low and dangerous. "Stand down."

"Or what?" I challenged. "You'll kill more of your own people? Like you just did to those three soldiers who were simply following my orders?"

The crowd murmured angrily at that.

"They were going to rape her," Mordred said coldly. "They deserved what they got."

"They were punishing a criminal!" I shot back. "A criminal you're now protecting!"

The situation was spiraling, exactly as I wanted it to. The crowd was getting angrier, more volatile.

Time to make my move.

"Very well," I said, making a show of backing down reluctantly. "I can see this situation is... volatile. Perhaps we should allow cooler heads to prevail."

Mordred eyed me suspiciously. "What are you proposing?"

"A trial," I said simply. "Three days from now, at the Blood Fang Arena. Let the girl face judgment before all the people and all the Lords. Since we all have different opinions, why not let everyone decide whether she's guilty or not?"

I gestured to the crowd, which had swelled to several hundred people now.

"Let everyone hear the evidence, see the truth," I continued. "If she's innocent, as you claim, then she has nothing to fear. But if she's guilty..." I let the implication hang.