Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 87

Natasha's POV

"This is insane," Lucy muttered. "Completely insane. We should all go. Safety in numbers. If he tries anything—"

"He said to come alone," I repeated. "He was very specific. If I bring anyone else, he'll know I'm trying to trick him. And then he'll expose me immediately. There'll be no chance to negotiate or talk or get information."

"He'll expose you anyway," Lucy said. "After he's done whatever horrible things he's planning to do to you."

"Maybe," I conceded. "Probably. But I still have to try. It's the only lead we have. The only potential source of information or help or—or anything that might give us a chance."

"Or it's a trap and you'll be raped and murdered and we'll never know what happened to you," Lucy said bluntly.

"Then at least I'll die trying," I said. "Instead of dying here in this room waiting for the next Lycan to decide he wants to torture me for fun."

Davelina looked at me. Really looked at me. I could see the fear in her eyes. The love. The desperate need to protect me.

But I could also see understanding. Acceptance.

"And take this." Lucy reached into her dress and pulled out a small knife—barely bigger than a letter opener, but the blade looked sharp and well-maintained. "I took it from Roderic's chambers while I was there. He has so many weapons he probably won't notice it's missing. Hide it in your clothes. If that Lycan tries to hurt you, use it."

I took the knife. It was surprisingly heavy for its size. The blade gleamed in the dim light filtering through the window.

The handle was wrapped in leather, worn smooth from use. Someone had cared for this blade. Sharpened it regularly.

"Thank you," I said, turning it over in my hands.

"Aim for the throat or the eyes," Davelina said. "Those are the most vulnerable spots even on a Lycan. Don't try to stab him in the chest or stomach—their ribs and muscles are too thick. You'll just make him angry."

I nodded, committing the advice to memory.

Lucy stood up from the cot, wincing as her injured body protested the movement. "When are you going?"

I looked out the window. It was full dark outside.

"Tonight," I said. "It's dark enough to move without being easily spotted."

I tucked the knife into the waistband of my trousers at the small of my back, hidden beneath my tunic. Made sure it was secure and wouldn't fall out if I had to run.

"Be careful," Davelina said. She pulled me into a tight hug, holding me like she might never let go.

"I will," I promised.

When she finally released me, Lucy hugged me too. Despite her injuries, her grip was strong.

"Come back," she whispered. "Please come back to us."

"I will," I said. "I promise I'll try."

I pulled away from them and headed for the door. Paused with my hand on the handle.

"If I'm not back by morning," I said, "assume the worst. Don't come looking for me. Don't do anything that will put you in danger. Just... just survive. However you can. That's all I ask."

"Natasha—" Davelina started, using my real name.

"I mean it," I said firmly, turning to look at both of them. "Survive. Find a way to escape if you can. But don't throw your lives away trying to save me. Promise me that."

They were both crying now. Silent tears streaming down their faces.

"We promise," Davelina whispered.

I nodded once, then opened the door and stepped out into the corridor before I could change my mind.

---

The fortress was quieter now that night had fallen. Most of the Lycans had retreated to their private chambers with whatever slaves they'd claimed. The corridors were dim, lit only by occasional torches mounted on the walls.

I moved carefully, keeping to the shadows. A few guards passed me but they didn't pay much attention—just another slave going about some errand.

I made my way down to the ground level and out through one of the side gates. The guard stationed there was half-asleep, leaning against the wall. He barely glanced at me as I slipped past.

*So far so good.*

Outside the fortress walls, the night was cool and clear. A nearly full moon hung in the sky, providing enough light to see by but not so much that I'd be easily spotted from a distance.

I knew where the creek was—I'd been taken there to bathe once. It ran along the eastern side of the fortress, fed by springs somewhere in the rocky hills beyond.

I found it easily enough, the sound of running water guiding me. The moonlight reflected off the surface, making it shimmer like silver.

*Downstream. He said to follow it downstream. About a mile.*

I began walking, keeping close to the water's edge. The path was rough—no proper trail, just rocks and dirt and occasional patches of grass. I had to watch my footing carefully to avoid tripping in the darkness.

The fortress quickly disappeared behind me as the creek wound through a small forest. Trees rose on either side, their branches forming a canopy overhead that blocked out much of the moonlight.

It was darker here. Quieter. The only sounds were the water flowing over rocks and my own breathing.

I felt the knife pressing against my lower back. A small comfort. A reminder that I wasn't completely defenseless.

*If he tries anything, I'll use it. I'll aim for his throat like Davelina said. I won't go down without a fight.*

The thought steadied me slightly.

I walked for what felt like a long time. The creek twisted and turned, sometimes widening into small pools, sometimes narrowing to barely a trickle between rocks.

My legs were getting tired. The pain in my abdomen from the guard's kick was a constant throb. But I kept walking.

*Just a little further. He said about a mile downstream. I must be close.*

The forest began to thin. The trees grew farther apart, letting in more moonlight. And ahead, I could see something—

A faint glow. Firelight, maybe. Or lamplight.

Buildings.

My heart started hammering harder. This was it. I was almost there.