Vanished Sisters The Lycan King's Slave Island novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Natasha’s POV

I pushed the thought away. Focused on the immediate present.

I need to be sure. Need to check everything.

My hand moved lower, trembling slightly. My fingers traced the swollen lips of my cunt, feeling for damage.

Pain. Sharp and immediate. But not unbearable. More like deep bruising than active trauma.

I took a deep breath and pushed further. One finger sliding between the folds, into the entrance-

Tight. So tight.

How is that possible? After what happened-after that massive cock forced its way inside-I should be-

I pushed deeper, carefully, wincing at the discomfort. Past the entrance. Into the channel itself.

And felt-

No.

That’s not-

It can’t be-

My finger encountered resistance. A barrier. Thin and delicate, just inside the entrance.

My hymen.

My intact hymen.

But that’s impossible. The King-he penetrated me. I felt it. Felt him tearing rough-

Unless.

Unless it had healed.

Unless my body-my cursed, blessed Endurer body-had repaired even that damage. Had actually reconstructed the tissue that had been

destroyed.

I pulled my finger out slowly, my mind reeling.

Complete regeneration. Not just healing from wounds, but actual reconstruction. My body-it’s rebuilding itself. Restoring what was destroyed.

The implications were staggering.

If my hymen grew back, that means-

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Chapter 50

That means I can be used again. And again. And again. Forever a virgin. Forever tight. Forever-

Valuable.

Oh God. I’m going to be a prisoner here forever.

I felt bile rise in my throat and swallowed it down hard.

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No. No, I can’t think like that. I have to focus. Have to figure out what to do next.

I pulled the trousers back on quickly, fumbling with shaking hands. Then the shirt. Buttoning it with fingers that could barely grip the fabric.

I need to find Davelina. Need to find Lucy. Need to understand what’s happened while I was unconscious.

I stood again, more carefully this time. My legs held. Barely, but they held

I took a step toward the door. Then another. My strength was returning gradually, my body remembering how to function.

Okay. I can do this. Just need to find them. Just need to-

I reached the door and pressed my ear against it, listening carefully.

Silence.

No footsteps. No voices. No sounds of activity.

Good. The corridor is clear.

I eased the door open slowly, wincing at the faint creak of the hinges.

The corridor outside was dim and empty. Rough stone walls. Guttering torches in iron brackets. The smell of mildew and old blood.

I stepped out cautiously, keeping one hand on the wall for support.

Which way? Where would they have gone?

I moved to the left, toward what I hoped was the main servants’ area. Maybe someone there would know where Lucy or Davelina had gone.

The corridor stretched ahead, curving slightly. I followed it, my bare feet silent on the cold stone.

And then-

Footsteps.

Heavy. Confident. Coming from around the bend ahead.

I froze, my heart hammering.

Someone’s coming. I need to-

III

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Chapter 50

I pressed myself against the wall and peered around the corner carefully.

And saw her.

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A woman. Tall. Pregnant. Moving with predatory grace despite her swollen belly. She wore an expensive gown-dark green silk that shimmered

in the torchlight. Her dark red hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid.

Selene.

Oh God, that’s Selene.

I recognized her immediately. The Lycan woman I’d seen with Lord Fergus

She was speaking to someone-a male slave who was scrubbing the floor. Her voice carried down the corridor, imperious and sharp.

-looking for the boy,” she was saying. “The one the King attacked. Natham, I believe his name is. Which room is he in?”

My blood ran cold.

She’s looking for me. She’s looking for-

“I-I don’t know, my Lady, the slave stammered. “I think-maybe down that corridor? The servants’ quarters?”

“Show me.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

I turned and ran.

Or rather, I tried to run. My legs were still weak, my body still recovering. stumbled, nearly fell, caught myself against the wall.

Come on. Move. MOVE.

I made it back to Lucy’s room, practically falling through the door. I slammed it shut behind me as quietly as I could and threw myself onto the

cot.

The blankets. I needed the blankets.

I pulled them up to my chin, arranged my body in what I hoped was a convincingly death-like pose. Head lolled to the side. Arms limp. Breathing shallow.

Play dead. Play dying. Don’t let her know you were up and moving.

Footsteps in the corridor. Getting closer.

Please. Please-

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The door opened.

I kept my eyes closed. Kept my breathing shallow and irregular. Like somene barely clinging to life.

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Chapter 50

“Here, my Lady, the slave’s voice. Nervous. “This is the room.”

Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Crossing the small space toward the cot.

Then silence.

I could feel her presence. Feel her eyes on me. Assessing. Judging.

Don’t move. Don’t react. Just lie there like you’re dying.

You may go,” Selene said to the slave.

“Yes, my Lady.”

The door closed.

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