Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 200

Sebastian's POV

I could see Mordred calculating, weighing his options. He knew it was a trap, but what choice did he have?

"And if I refuse?" he asked.

Perfect. He was taking the bait.

"Then you'll be denying your people justice," I said. "You'll be proving that you value a human criminal over the laws you're sworn to uphold. You'll be proving that you're unfit to rule."

The crowd murmured in agreement, their voices growing louder.

Mordred was trapped, and everyone knew it.

"Fine," he said finally, his voice tight. "Three days. But she stays with me until then. Under my protection."

"Of course," I agreed magnanimously. "I wouldn't dream of separating a man from his... mate."

The word dripped with sarcasm, and I saw several people in the crowd sneer.

Mordred gathered the girl in his arms—she looked half-conscious, probably in shock—and mounted his horse. Fergus and Gregor formed a protective circle around them, and they began to ride away.

I watched them go, my smile widening with every step.

---

As soon as they were out of sight, one of my commanders approached.

"My lord," he said quietly. "Should we pursue? We have the numbers. We could take them now—"

"No," I said, holding up a hand. "Let them go."

"But my lord, we have them outnumbered. We could end this today—"

"And risk Mordred escaping?" I shook my head. "No. If we attack now and he gets away, he'll retreat to his fortress and we'll be at open war before we're ready."

The commander frowned. "Then what's the plan, my lord?"

I gestured to the crowd, which was still shouting angrily, their faces twisted with betrayal and rage.

"We have something far more valuable than a quick victory," I said. "We have the people."

Understanding dawned on my commander's face.

I turned to address my assembled forces, raising my voice so all could hear.

"Summon all your vassals," I commanded. "Send riders to every settlement, every village, every town in the realm. Tell them what they've seen here today—their King, protecting a human criminal. Their King, choosing a lying slave over his own people. Their King, planning to make an Endurer witch, a slave, his Queen."

My soldiers were nodding, understanding the brilliance of the plan.

"Tell them to gather," I continued. "Tell them to make their voices heard. When Mordred returns to his fortress, I want crowds waiting for him. I want them outside his walls, demanding justice. Demanding that he uphold the law."

"Tell them remember who our enemies are," I said. "Remind them of what humans did to us, to their families, to their King's family. Make them remember the pain, the loss, the hatred."

Laughter rippled through my forces.

"Even if he makes it back to his fortress," I said, "he'll be trapped there. Surrounded by his own people, all of them calling for the girl's death. The pressure will be enormous. Unbearable. He'll have to choose—his throne or his mate."

"And if he still refuses to give her up?" the commander asked.

"Then he'll prove to everyone that he's unfit to rule," I said simply. "That he values a human whore over the lives and safety of his own people. And when we march on his fortress, half his own subjects will open the gates for us."

Another commander stepped forward, his expression admiring. "My lord, this is brilliant."

I looked in the direction Mordred had ridden, imagining the hell he was about to face.

"Get moving," I ordered. "I want riders on the road within the hour. I want crowds gathering by nightfall. I want every settlement between here and Howling Citadel to know what their King has done. I want them angry. I want them demanding justice."

As they began to disperse, one of my senior advisors approached.

"My lord," he said quietly. "What about the trial itself? What if somehow Mordred manages to sway public opinion?"

"It won't matter," I interrupted, my smile widening.

The advisor looked confused. "My lord?"

I lowered my voice so only he could hear. "Because in three days, our armies will be fully prepared. Completely ready for war."

The advisor's eyes widened with understanding.

"You see," I continued, "the trial is just theater. A spectacle to keep everyone distracted while we complete our final preparations. Whether the girl is condemned or acquitted, whether Mordred gives her up or protects her, the outcome is the same."

"War," the advisor breathed.

"War," I confirmed. "In three days, our forces will be at full strength. Our allies will be in position. Our supplies will be secured. And then, no matter what happens at that trial, we march. We take the fortress. We take the throne. And Mordred..." I paused, savoring the thought. "Mordred will finally get what he deserves."

The advisor bowed deeply. "You're a genius, my lord."

"I know," I said simply.

I turned to watch the last of my soldiers mount up, ready to spread the word across the realm.

I looked out at the clearing, at the blood still staining the ground, at the bodies of the three soldiers Mordred had killed.

"He killed his own people for her," I said softly. "He chose a human over his own kind. That's all we need. That's all the people need to see. He's already lost, he just doesn't know it yet."

The advisor smiled. "The people are with us, my lord. They'll never accept a human Queen."

"Exactly," I said. "And that's why we've already won."

Three days.

In three days, I would be King.