Vanished Sisters The Lycan King's Slave Island novel Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Natasha’s POV

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I took a slow step backward, trying to blend into the shadows. But the movement caught the gray one’s attention. His yellow eyes fixed on me.

“Oi, you. Boy.”

I froze.

“Come here.”

Every instinct screamed at me to run. But running would only confirm the suspicions. So I forced my legs to move forward, one shuffling step

at a time, until I stood before them.

The gray guard leaned down, his nose almost touching my neck. I could see the individual hairs on his muzzle, smell the rotten meat on his

breath.

He inhaled deeply.

Then wrinkled his nose and pulled back. “Fuck, you stink. When’s the last time you bathed, boy?”

“I… I don’t know, sir. They don’t let us-”

“Whatever.” He waved me off dismissively. “Probably just another breeding slave getting warmed up somewhere. This whole level reeks of cunt and blood anyway. Come on, we’ve got coal to move before the foreman comes around.”

They turned away, already forgetting about me.

I didn’t wait for them to change their minds. The moment their backs were turned, I ducked behind one of the coal carts and grabbed a fistful

of black dust from the bottom.

The powder was gritty and fine, like sand made of darkness. I smeared it agross my neck in thick streaks, not caring about the way it stung my scratched skin. More across my wrists. My jaw. My collarbone where the shirt gaped open.

The acrid stench of coal filled my nose, making my eyes water and my throat burn. But it worked. It covered the sweet musk, buried it under layers of industrial filth.

I smeared more across my arms for good measure, then checked my reflect on in a puddle of standing water.

A coal–blackened slave boy stared back at me. Gaunt. Filthy. Unremarkable

Perfect.

I slipped past the guards while they argued about work quotas, just another shadow in a place full of them.

The passage to the King’s Den lay at the end of a long corridor that sloped upward, as if leading toward the very heart of the fortress.

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20:38 Thu, Feb 12 3 GO

Chapter 13

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The temperature rose as I climbed. The air grew thicker, harder to breathe And underneath the omnipresent each of the forcess. I caught

something else. Something that made my skin crawl

Blood. Fresh blood. And sex. And something animal and wrong.

At the top of the slope stood a door that made me want to turn and rum

It was carved from a single slab of black obsidian that seemed to swallow the torchlight. The surface was polished to a minor sine, refering

my own terrified face back at me. But it was the carvings that made my breath catch.

Wolf heads. Dozens of them, snarling and howling, their mouths open to reveal fangs the length of my forearm. Their eyes were inlaid with

blood–red gems that seemed to glow with their own internal light, tracking my movement as I approached.

And guarding the door were two Lycan soldiers unlike any I’d seen before

These weren’t the half–transformed guards who patrolled the lower levels. These were warriors. They wore heavy armor–tark in plates enched with runic symbols that hurt to look at directly. Their helmets were shaped like wolf skulls, and they carried weapons that locked like they

could cleave a man in half with a single swing.

One of them was eating.

He d removed his helmet and was tearing into a chunk of raw meat with his teeth–something with for still attached Blood dripped down his chin and spattered on his breastplate, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He chewed with loud, wet sounds, his eyes half–closed in

satisfaction

I wanted to run. Wanted to turn around and hide in the deepest, darkest hole I could find.

But Davelina was behind that door. Or what was left of her.

I forced myself to walk forward. Slowly. Shoulders hunched. Eyes downcast just a scared little slave boy who didn’t know any better.

“Sir,” I said, keeping my voice low and rough. “Please, I… I need to ask about the shipment that came yesterday. The ones they brought to the

King’s Den.”

The eating guard swallowed his mouthful and laughed. The sound bounced off the stone walls, echoing down the corridor like a pack of hyemas.

“Shipment?” He looked at his companion, who hadn’t moved or spoken. “You hear that? It thinks the goods are still in one piece.”

The other guard finally turned his helmeted head toward me. When he spoke, his voice was like iron scraping over stone.

“What you brought here yesterday is fertilizer now, boy. Meat and bone and screaming. The King doesn’t leave survivers.”

“But-” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard and tried again. “My sister. Fair haired. Blue eyes. She was with the group I just want to know if

she’s-

“Your sister?” The eating guard leaned down, and I could see bits of flesh mught between his fangs. If she was pretty, the King probably ripped him apart just to hear she scream. If she was very pretty…” He made an obscene gesture with his blood–slicked fingers. The King likes her fresh and tight. Likes to feel them break.”

His companion made a sound that might have been laughter.

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