Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 207

Mordred's POV

It was another day.

Miracle didn't show up.

Things just got worse and worse.

The corridor to the dungeons was cold and silent, torchlight flickering against ancient stone walls. My footsteps echoed in the emptiness, each one a reminder of the decision I was walking toward—to see her one last time, though I had no idea what I could possibly say.

Davelina walked beside me, her face pale and drawn, her hands trembling at her sides. When I'd told her I was going to see Natasha, she'd begged to come with me, her voice breaking with desperation.

"Please, Your Majesty," she'd said. "We've never been apart. Never. Not since we were children. Just let me see my sister. Just once."

I'd agreed, though I knew it was dangerous. If anyone made the connection between them, if they realized Natasha had a sister who was also Fergus's mate...

But I couldn't refuse the desperate hope in her eyes.

As we descended the final staircase, I heard voices ahead—angry voices raised in argument. I rounded the corner and stopped.

The entrance to the dungeons was blocked by at least two dozen Lycans—soldiers, minor nobles, ordinary citizens who had somehow gained access to the citadel. They stood in a hostile semicircle around the heavy iron door, their faces twisted with rage.

"—shouldn't be allowed visitors at all!" one was shouting. "She's a criminal! A conspirator!"

"She should be executed immediately," another voice called out. "Why are we waiting?"

"Because the King is weak," a third voice said, and I recognized him as a minor lord from Sebastian's faction. "He's been compromised by human influence."

I stepped forward, and the crowd fell silent.

They turned to stare at me, and I saw the exact moment they registered my presence. Some had the grace to look ashamed. Others met my gaze with defiant anger.

Then their eyes shifted to Davelina, and I heard the whispers start.

"Another human?"

"Why is the King bringing a human to see the prisoner?"

"This is madness..."

The minor lord stepped forward, his expression a mixture of contempt and false respect. "Your Majesty," he said, inclining his head slightly. "We were just ensuring that proper protocol is followed. The prisoner should not receive visitors until after the trial."

"Step aside," I said quietly.

No one moved.

"With respect, Your Majesty," the lord said, though there was no respect in his tone, "we cannot allow anyone to see the prisoner. Especially not..." His gaze shifted to Davelina with open disgust. "...another human."

"Are you refusing a direct order from your King?" I asked, my voice dropping into a register that made my wolf's presence known.

The temperature in the corridor seemed to drop. Several of the younger Lycans shifted uncomfortably.

"We're simply ensuring justice is served," the lord said, but uncertainty crept into his voice now. "The people demand—"

"The people do not make demands of their King," I interrupted, letting my claws extend just enough to catch the torchlight. "And neither do you. You have three seconds to move before I remove you myself. One."

For a moment, no one moved.

"Two."

The crowd began to part—slowly, reluctantly, their faces sullen with resentment. But they moved.

I started forward, Davelina close behind me, but the minor lord stepped into her path.

"The King may enter," he said, his voice cold. "But the human stays outside."

"What?" Davelina's voice was barely above a whisper. "No, please, I just want to see my—" She caught herself. "I just want to see her. Please."

"No humans except the prisoner are allowed in the dungeons," the lord said flatly. "King's orders."

"That's not—" Davelina started, but I could see the lie for what it was. There was no such order.

I turned to face the lord. "Let her through."

"I cannot, Your Majesty," he said, and now there was a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "For security reasons. We cannot allow unauthorized humans access to the dungeons. Surely you understand."

I understood perfectly. This was a power play. A way to demonstrate that even the King's authority had limits when it came to protecting humans.

I could force the issue. Could use my power as King to override them, to drag Davelina through by force if necessary.

But that would only make things worse. Would only fuel the narrative that I was compromised, that I cared more about humans than about my own people.

I looked at Davelina and saw understanding dawn in her eyes, followed by devastation.

"It's alright," she said quietly, though tears were already streaming down her face. "I understand."

"Davelina—" I started, but she shook her head.

"Just... just tell her I love her," she whispered. "Tell her I'm here. That I haven't forgotten her. That I would never—" Her voice broke completely.

I nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat.

Then I turned and walked through the crowd alone, leaving Davelina standing in the corridor, surrounded by hostile Lycans who looked at her with open contempt.

The dungeon guard saluted when he saw me. "Your Majesty."

"Open the cell," I said. "The one holding Natasha Hastings."

He led me down the narrow corridor to the largest cell at the end. Through the bars, I could see Natasha sitting on the stone bench, her dark hair tangled, her dress dirty and torn. But she sat with her back straight, her chin raised, maintaining a dignity that made my chest ache.

She looked up as we approached, and her eyes widened. "Mordred?"

The guard unlocked the door, and I stepped inside. He pulled it partially closed behind me to give us privacy.

Natasha stood from the bench, wincing slightly. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin had taken on the pallor of someone who hadn't seen sunlight in days.

But she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"You shouldn't have come," she said quietly.

"I had to see you."

"Why?" She moved closer. "To torture yourself? To make this harder than it already is?"

"To find a way to save you," I said.

She let out a bitter laugh. "There is no way to save me. Don't you understand? This isn't about evidence or truth. This is about fear. They've already decided I'm guilty."

"Sacrifice me," Natasha said quietly. "Give them what they want. Execute me publicly, prove to them you haven't been compromised. Use my death to secure your throne."

"No."

"It's the only way," she insisted. "The only way to save yourself, to save the kingdom—"

"I don't care about the kingdom!" The words exploded out of me. "Not if it means losing you."

Natasha's eyes widened. "You can't mean that."