Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King's Slave Island Chapter 99

Natasha's POV

I stood in the corridor outside the Great Hall, my hands trembling as I held a tray of wine glasses.

Around me, other slaves who'd been selected for auction waited in various states of terror and resignation. Some were crying quietly. Others stood with blank expressions, already defeated.

I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

*This is it. This is really happening.*

The doors to the Great Hall stood open ahead of us, and through them I could see the opulence within.

Massive chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their crystals catching and reflecting the light from hundreds of candles. Rich tapestries covered the walls—scenes of hunts and battles, all featuring Lycans in their glory. Long tables laden with food and drink lined the sides of the hall.

And Lycans. So many Lycans.

Lords and ladies in their finest clothes, laughing and drinking. Lower-ranking nobles mingling and making deals. Even some wealthy merchants who'd earned the privilege of attending.

All of them here for one purpose: to buy flesh.

"You there!" A guard gestured to our group. "Start serving. And keep your heads down and mouths shut unless directly addressed."

We filed into the hall, spreading out among the crowds with our trays.

I kept my eyes lowered as I moved through the room, offering wine to the gathered Lycans. My binding felt too tight around my chest. Every breath was an effort.

*Just blend in. Be forgettable. Unremarkable. Don't attract attention.*

But even with my eyes down, I could feel the weight of gazes on me. Assessing. Evaluating.

*They're looking at all of us. Deciding who they want. Who they'll bid on.*

The atmosphere in the hall was almost festive. Lycans talked and laughed, their voices echoing off the high ceiling. Some were already drunk, weaving slightly as they walked.

And some were doing more than just drinking.

I nearly dropped my tray when I turned a corner and saw a Lord—one I didn't recognize—with a female slave bent over a table. Her dress was pushed up around her waist. He was fucking her from behind, right there in the open hall, while his companions watched and made crude comments.

The woman's face was blank. Empty. She stared at nothing while the Lord grunted and thrust.

*Oh God. Is that going to be me? Used like that, in front of everyone, with no privacy, no dignity?*

I quickly looked away and kept moving.

"More wine!" A gruff voice barked.

I turned to see a heavyset Lycan Lord gesturing impatiently at me. His face was flushed from drink, his eyes slightly unfocused.

"Yes, my Lord," I said quietly, keeping my voice pitched low. I approached and refilled his glass.

He grabbed my wrist as I tried to pull away. His grip was painful.

"You're a pretty little thing," he slurred, his eyes roaming over my face. "Are you up for auction today?"

"Yes, my Lord," I managed to say.

"Good. Very good." He released my wrist and patted my cheek—hard enough to sting. "I might just bid on you. Would you like that? Would you like to warm my bed?"

*No. God, no. Please, no.*

"Whatever pleases you, my Lord," I said through numb lips.

He laughed—a wet, unpleasant sound—and waved me away.

I moved through the crowd on autopilot, refilling glasses, trying not to think about what was coming.

My eyes searched the room for Caelan. I finally spotted him near one of the windows, talking with another Lord. He held a wine glass casually, looking relaxed and at ease.

Our eyes met across the room. He gave me the slightest nod.

*He's here. He's going to try. That's something.*

But even as the thought formed, I saw who else was in the hall.

Lord Fergus, Sabastian and Gregor sat at the head table on a raised dais—positions of honor befitting their rank.

*They're all here. All three of them.*

And scattered throughout the hall were female Lycans as well. Wealthy women in their own right, or wives and companions of Lords, come to purchase slaves for their own households.

Among them, I spotted Selene.

She stood near the front, her pregnant belly prominent beneath her elegant gown. Her dark hair was elaborately styled, jewels glinting in it. She looked every inch the high-ranking Lycan lady.

She was beautiful in a cold, sharp way. And as I watched, her eyes scanned the crowd of slaves with the same calculating expression I'd seen on merchants evaluating livestock.

A loud voice rang out over the crowd.

"Lords and Ladies! Honored guests!" It was Madam Victoria, standing at a podium near the dais. "If you would please take your seats, we will begin the auction shortly!"

The Lycans began moving toward rows of chairs arranged before the dais. Slaves hurried to clear away food and drink, making room.

We were herded to the side—those of us being auctioned—and made to stand in a line along the wall.

I found myself between a trembling girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen and a boy around my age with delicate features and terrified eyes.

*We're merchandise. That's all we are to them. Items to be sold.*

When everyone was seated, Victoria raised her hands for silence.

"Welcome, honored guests, to today's auction!" Her voice carried clearly through the hall. "As you know, this is the first slave auction held in several years, made possible by the King's improved condition."