Vanished Sisters The Lycan King's Slave Island novel Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Natasha’s POV

B

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He was bigger than the others. Broader. With dark hair pulled back in a leather tie and a scar running from his left eyebrow to his

cheekbone. His eyes glowed brighter than the others’-a sign of stronger blood, maybe.

He looks important. A leader of some kind.

The others deferred to him. Laughed at his jokes. Listened when he spoke.

I was about to turn away-this wasn’t helping me find Lucy or Davelina-when I heard something that made me freeze.

“So, Roderic,” one of the warriors said, his voice slurred with drink. “I saw you earlier. You and that little slave girl of yours. What’s her

name again? Lucy?”

Lucy.

They’re talking about Lucy.

My heart leapt into my throat.

The big warrior-Roderic-didn’t look up from his drink. “What about her?”

“Saw you dragging her into the weapons room,” the warrior continued, grinning. “Heard some interesting sounds coming from in there too. Moaning. Gasping. The kind of sounds a woman makes when she’s getting properly fucked.”

The others laughed. Crude, knowing laughter.

“You choke her out again?” another warrior asked. “I swear, Roderic, one of these days you’re going to kill that poor girl.”

“She can take it,” Roderic said flatly. His tone suggested he was done with this conversation.

But the first warrior wasn’t done.

“Yeah, but here’s what I’m wondering,” he said, leaning forward with a lecherous grin. “When are you going to share? I mean, you’ve ha her for a long time. Surely you’re getting bored. Maybe it’s time to let the rest of us have a turn.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Roderic set his cup down slowly. Deliberately. Then he turned to look at the warrior who’d spoken.

“What did you just say?” His voice was soft. Dangerous.

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Chapter 53

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The warrior shifted uncomfortably but tried to maintain his bravado. “I’m just saying-she’s wasted on one man. You could share her

around. Let the boys have some fun. It’s not like she’s your mate or anything. She’s just a human slave.”

Roderic stood up.

Even sitting, he’d been imposing. Standing, he was terrifying. Six and a half feet of muscle and barely contained violence.

“Let me make something very clear,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. “Lucy is mine. My property. My possession. And if any one of

you so much as looks at her the wrong way-

He grabbed a knife from the table. In one swift motion, he slammed it down, driving it through the wooden surface with enough force to

make everyone at the table flinch.

-I will cut off your hand,” he finished. “Then your cock. Then I’ll let you bleed out slowly while I fuck her right in front of you.

Understand?

Silence.

The warrior who’d spoken swallowed hard and nodded. “Understood.”

“Good.” Roderic pulled the knife free and sat back down. “Now fuck off with your stupid suggestions.”

The conversation moved on to other topics. Raids. Battles. The usual warrior talk.

But I barely heard it.

Lucy. They were talking about Lucy.

She’s alive. She’s here somewhere. This Roderic-he owns her. Keeps her.

But where is she now? And what did he do to her in that weapons room?

I needed to get closer. Needed to hear more.

I took a careful step forward-

And my bare foot landed on a loose stone.

It shifted under my weight with a soft scrape.

Five pairs of eyes snapped toward the doorway where I stood.

Fuck.

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“Well, well,” one of the warriors said. “What do we have here?”

I froze. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but I forced myself to stay still. To look harmless. Subservient.

Play the part. You’re just a slave. Just a boy doing his duties.

“You!” Roderic pointed at me. “Boy. Get in here.”

I had no choice. I stepped into the dining hall, keeping my head down, my posture hunched.

“Yes, sir?”

“We need more ale, Roderic said, gesturing to the empty tankards on the table. “Go fetch it. Now.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

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I turned to go-

“Wait, another warrior said. The one who’d suggested sharing Lucy. He was looking at me with sudden interest. “I don’t recognize you.

When did you arrive on the island?”

Careful. Don’t give too much away.

“Few days ago, sir,” I said quietly. “In the last shipment.”

“Ah. He nodded. “That explains it. We were still at sea when you arrived. Just got back yesterday from the mainland.”

So they don’t know. They don’t know about what happened with the King. They weren’t here for the rampage.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” the warrior continued, his eyes traveling over me in a way that made my skin crawl. “Delicate. How old are

you?”

“Sixteen, sir.”

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