Vanished Sisters The Lycan King's Slave Island novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Natasha’s POV

$472

After Selene left, I sat on the cot for several long minutes, my mind racing.

I need to find them. Davelina. Lucy. I need to know they’re safe.

But I can’t go out there looking like this. Can’t risk anyone noticing that I’m recovering too quickly.

I looked down at myself. The loose shirt. The trousers that hung off my frame. The binding around my chest that Lucy had carefully

wrapped.

I need to look worse. Need to look like someone who’s barely surviving.

I stood slowly and went to the basin in the corner. There was a small, cracked mirror propped against the wall-probably something Lucy

used when tending to her own appearance.

I picked it up and studied my reflection.

My face was pale. Too pale. Like someone who’d lost a lot of blood. But my eyes-

My eyes look too alert. Too aware.

I needed to fix that.

I splashed some water on my face, then pinched my cheeks hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. The redness would make me look

feverish. Sick.

Better.

I checked the binding around my chest, tugging at it to make sure it was secure. The last thing I needed was for it to come loose in

public.

Flat enough. As long as no one looks too closely, I should be fine.

I pulled the shirt back on, buttoning it with trembling fingers. The trousers next. Then I looked around for shoes.

Nothing.

Of course not. Most slaves go barefoot. That’s actually better-makes me look more vulnerable.

I took a few practice steps, deliberately making my gait unsteady. Weak. Like someone whose legs could barely support their weight.

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Chapter 52

Good. That’s convincing.

One more check in the mirror. Pale face. Red-rimmed eyes. Hunched posture.

I look like I’m dying. Perfect.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and opened the door.

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The corridors were busier now than they had been earlier. Slaves hurried past carrying buckets, linens, trays of food. Guards stood at intervals, watching everything with cold, suspicious eyes.

I kept my head down and moved slowly, staying close to the wall. Just another slave going about their duties. Nothing worth noticing.

Where would they be? Where would Lucy go? Where would Davelina-

I had no idea. The fortress was massive. Hundreds of rooms. Countless corridors. I could search for hours and never find them.

But I have to try. I have to-

“You there!”

I froze.

A guard was looking at me. A Lesser Lycan, maybe mid-ranking based on his armor. His eyes glowed faintly amber in the torchlight.

“What are you doing wandering around?” he demanded. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I-” I kept my voice low. Hoarse. “I’m looking for the kitchens. I was told to-to help with meal preparation.”

He studied me for a moment, his expression skeptical.

“You look half-dead,” he said finally. “Sure you can even work?”

“I can manage,” I whispered. “Please. I need to-I need to be useful.”

Please believe me. Please just let me go.

He grunted. “Kitchen’s that way. Two corridors down, take a left. And walk faster. We don’t have time for weaklings here.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

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Chapter 52

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I shuffled past him as quickly as I could manage while still looking weak.

That was too close. I need to be more careful.

I didn’t actually go to the kitchen. Instead, I took a different corridor, moving deeper into the servant areas of the fortress.

Think. Where would Lucy be?

And Davelina-

Where would they take her? Would she still be free? Or would someone have claimed her already?

The thought made my stomach churn with dread.

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I searched for what felt like hours. Checking storage rooms. Peeking into servant quarters. Always careful to look like I belonged there.

Like I was just another slave going about mundane tasks.

But there was no sign of either of them.

Where are they? Please let them be okay. Please-

At one point, I found myself near the outer walls of the fortress. Large windows looked out over the courtyard below-and beyond that,

the sea.

I could escape. Maybe. If I could just get outside, find a way to the docks-

But even as the thought formed, I saw the guards. Dozens of them. Patrolling the walls. Watching the gates. Armed with weapons that

could cut me down before I made it ten feet.

No. There’s no way out. Not yet. Not without a plan.

I turned away from the window and continued my search.

Eventually, I found myself in a section of the fortress I hadn’t seen before. The corridors here were wider. Better maintained. The torches burned with steady flames instead of guttering smoke.

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