Vanished Sisters The Lycan King's Slave Island novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Natasha’s POV

以命16%售

“I… I only focus on my work, my lord.”

“Mm.” The sound was noncommittal. He still didn’t turn around. “Good. Because slaves who listen too carefully often mishear things. And

misheard words can be… dangerous.”

I kept my eyes fixed on the statue’s stone jaw. “Yes, my lord.”

“Do you understand what I’m telling you, boy?”

“Yes, my lord.” My voice came out steady, though my heart hammered. “I understand nothing.”

A pause. Then something that might have been a dark chuckle.

“Smart.” Fergus finally turned his head, just enough for his red eye to gleam in the torchlight. “Keep it that way.”

He took one step toward the corridor. Then stopped.

“One more thing.” His tone shifted–colder now. “If anyone asks what you heard in this hallway today, you’ll tell them you heard a pregnant she–wolf complaining about her swollen tits. Nothing more.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good.”

Then he turned to leave.

I should have stayed silent. Should have nodded and kept scrubbing.

“My lord. My voice came out hoarse, Too loud.

Fergus stopped. Didn’t turn around,

“Does she…‘ I swallowed hard. “Does she really not care? About the child, mean.”

Silence.

Then, slowly, Fergus turned his head. Just enough for one amber eye to calch the torchlight.

“Why do you ask, boy?”

My throat tightened. Stupid. Stupid question.

But the question slipped out before I could stop it. ‘My lord–if she’s feeding the King, what happens to the child?”

Fergus stopped. Didn’t turn around.

1/4

20:39 Thu, Feb 12 D3. G.

Chapter 21

The child?” His voice was flat. “It’s discarded.”

16%

“Discarded?” My hands tightened on the ladder. “But–where does it go? Who takes care of-*

“No one.” Now he turned, amber eye gleaming. “It’s thrown into the wolf pens within an hour of birth. Left to survive on scraps and corpses, if

it can. Most die within a day.”

Bile rose in my throat. “Why? If the milk is so valuable, why not-

“Because the child is already dead.” Fergus cut me off. “Not literally–not yet. But it’s dying from the moment it takes its first breath.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending.

He sighed, as if explaining something tedious to a slow student. “The milk that extends a Lycan Lord’s life doesn’t get its power from the mother, boy. It comes from the child. Every drop Selene produces is drawn from her infant’s lifespan–weeks, months, years, all condensed into liquid form.”

My stomach turned. “You mean-”

“The child is the source.” His voice was matter–of–fact. “It’s born, and immediately its life begins draining away to feed whoever drinks from its mother. The King drinks, and the infant withers. Simple exchange.”

“That’s-” I couldn’t find words. “That’s murder.”

“That’s survival.” Fergus crossed his arms. “The King needs that milk to live.”

“But the child-”

“The child was never meant to live.” His tone turned colder. “From the moment Selene conceived, it was already a sacrifice. She knows it. The King knows it. Everyone knows it. That’s why she doesn’t grieve. That’s why she won’t hold it or name it. Because it’s not a child–it’s a vessel. A

battery. A resource.”

He took a step closer.

“And before you ask–no, this isn’t done to all Lycan offspring. Only the King is allowed a wet nurse. Only he has the right to consume a child’s lifespan through milk. It’s a privilege reserved for royalty, not something every Lycan can do.”

“Why?” The word came out hoarse.

“Because if every Lord had a wet nurse, we’d need hundreds of pregnant she–wolves breeding constantly, killing their infants to feed our nobles. The population would collapse within a generation.” His red eye narrowed So the rule is absolute: one King, one wet nurse, one sacrifice. That’s how the species survives.”

I felt sick. “And Selene… she just accepts this?”

“She has no choice. Fergus’s voice was almost pitying. “Her body produces the milk. Her child pays the price. That’s the contract she was born into. In exchange, she gets close to the King. If the king adores, she could even become the queen.”

“My lord- I looked up at him, confused. “Why are you telling me all this?

Fergus paused, then let out a short, bitter laugh.

2/4

20:39 Thu, Feb 12 DG.

Chapter 21

“Good question.” He examined his claws idly. “I don’t need to tell a slave anything. You’re nobody. Less than nobody.”

He turned, amber eye catching the torchlight.

“But I hope–foolishly, perhaps–that one day the King will wake from his madness. That he’ll remember what he was before the beast

consumed him.”

I frowned, not understanding. What does telling me this have to do with bringing him back?

Fergus was silent for a long moment.

He turned toward the corridor, conversation clearly over.

My hands tightened on the ladder. Three days. Three nights of not knowing.

“My lord-

He paused, back still to me.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify