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Vanished Sisters The Lycan King's Slave Island novel Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Natasha’s POV

“How much farther?” I asked quietly.

“Not far,” Lucy whispered. “Next corridor. Third door on the left.”

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We moved as quickly as Lucy could manage. Finally-finally-we reached her room. I pushed the door open with my shoulder and helped

her inside, easing her down onto the narrow cot.

She curled up on her side immediately, drawing her knees to her chest. A wounded animal seeking whatever comfort it could find.

“Stay here,” I said. “I’ll get you water.”

I went to the basin in the corner-the same one I’d used days ago when I’d first woken in this room. Filled a cup and brought it back to

her.

“Here. Drink.”

Lucy’s hands shook too violently to hold the cup. Water sloshed over the rim, spilling onto her chest.

“It’s okay,” I said gently. “Let me help.”

I knelt beside the cot and held the cup to her lips, tilting it carefully. She drank in desperate gulps, water running down her chin. When

she’d emptied it, she fell back against the thin pillow, breathing hard.

“More?” I asked.

She shook her head weakly.

I set the cup aside and just looked at her. Really looked at her.

The bruises on her throat were the worst. They’d already deepened from purple to almost black-the kind of bruising that came from

sustained, brutal pressure. The kind that said he’d squeezed and squeezed and didn’t let go even when she passed out.

There were other marks too. Teeth impressions on her collarbone. Scratches down her arms where she must have tried to fig

Her lips were swollen and split, like she’d been kissed-or bitten-too hard.

What exactly did he do to her? How long was she in there with him?

“Lucy,” I said quietly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

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14:44 Fri, Feb 27 d..

Vanished Sisters: The Lycan King’s Slave Island

Chapter 57

Natasha’s POV

“How much farther?” I asked quietly.

“Not far,” Lucy whispered. “Next corridor. Third door on the left.”

:

72

We moved as quickly as Lucy could manage. Finally-finally-we reached her room. I pushed the door open with my shoulder and helped

her inside, easing her down onto the narrow cot.

She curled up on her side immediately, drawing her knees to her chest. A wounded animal seeking whatever comfort it could find.

“Stay here,” I said. “I’ll get you water.”

I went to the basin in the corner-the same one I’d used days ago when I’d first woken in this room. Filled a cup and brought it back to

her.

“Here. Drink.”

Lucy’s hands shook too violently to hold the cup. Water sloshed over the rim, spilling onto her chest.

“It’s okay,” I said gently. “Let me help.”

I knelt beside the cot and held the cup to her lips, tilting it carefully. She drank in desperate gulps, water running down her chin. When

she’d emptied it, she fell back against the thin pillow, breathing hard.

“More?” I asked.

She shook her head weakly.

I set the cup aside and just looked at her. Really looked at her.

The bruises on her throat were the worst. They’d already deepened from purple to almost black-the kind of bruising that came from

sustained, brutal pressure. The kind that said he’d squeezed and squeezed and didn’t let go even when she passed out.

There were other marks too. Teeth impressions on her collarbone. Scratches down her arms where she must have tried to fight him

Her lips were swollen and split, like she’d been kissed-or bitten-too hard.

What exactly did he do to her? How long was she in there with him?

“Lucy,” I said quietly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

1/3

14:44 Fri, Feb 27 J

Chapter 57

She turned her face away from me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know. But-

“Just leave it, Nathan. Please. Her voice cracked. ‘I can’t-I can’t talk about it right now.”

I reached out and took her hand. She flinched but didn’t pull away.

72

“Listen to me,” I said firmly. “We’ve both suffered terrible things. Both been violated in ways that- My voice caught. I forced myself to

continue. “In ways that shouldn’t happen to anyone. There’s no point pretending we’re fine. No point protecting each other’s feelings.”

I squeezed her hand.

“Dignity or survival-which matters more? Because I think we both know the answer. And if something happened that I need to know

about, you have to tell me. So we can help each other. So we can figure out how to survive this.”

Lucy was quiet for a long moment. Then she laughed-a bitter, broken sound that turned into a sob.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “What’s dignity worth here? Nothing. Less than nothing.”

She took a shaky breath, still not looking at me.

“But it’s not about dignity,” she continued, her voice barely audible. “It’s not about shame or embarrassment or any of that. I stopped

caring about those things months ago.”

“Then what?”

Finally, she turned to look at me. Tears streamed down her face.

“I didn’t want you to know,” she said. “Didn’t want you to see how pathetic my life is. How much I’ve had to endure. I wanted-* Her voice broke completely. “I wanted you to think I was strong. That I could handle this. That I was protecting you, not falling apart myself.”

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

“But I can’t handle it,” she sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore, Natasha. I’m so tired. So fucking tired of being used and hurt and-”

I pulled her into my arms, holding her as she broke down completely. Her body shook with violent sobs against my chest.

My own tears came too. Silent, hot tears that soaked into her hair. For her. For myself. For both of us trapped in this nightmare with

escape.

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