Vanished Sisters The Lycan King's Slave Island novel Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Natasha’s POV

I stood in the corridor outside the Great Hall, my hands trembling as I held a tray of wine glasses.

Around me, other slaves who’d been selected for auction waited in various states of terror and resignation. Some were crying quietly.

Others stood with blank expressions, already defeated.

I tried to steady my breathing, but my heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

This is it. This is really happening.

The doors to the Great Hall stood open ahead of us, and through them I could see the opulence within.

Massive chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their crystals catching and reflecting the light from hundreds of candles. Rich tapestries covered the walls-scenes of hunts and battles, all featuring Lycans in their glory. Long tables laden with food and drink lined the sides of the hall.

And Lycans. So many Lycans.

Lords and ladies in their finest clothes, laughing and drinking. Lower-ranking nobles mingling and making deals. Even some wealthy merchants who’d earned the privilege of attending.

All of them here for one purpose: to buy flesh.

“You there!” A guard gestured to our group. “Start serving. And keep your heads down and mouths shut unless directly addressed.”

We filed into the hall, spreading out among the crowds with our trays.

I kept my eyes lowered as I moved through the room, offering wine to the gathered Lycans. My binding felt too tight around my chest.

Every breath was an effort.

Just blend in. Be forgettable. Unremarkable. Don’t attract attention.

But even with my eyes down, I could feel the weight of gazes on me. Assessing. Evaluating.

They’re looking at all of us. Deciding who they want. Who they’ll bid on.

The atmosphere in the hall was almost festive. Lycans talked and laughed, their voices echoing off the high ceiling. Some were already drunk, weaving slightly as they walked.

And some were doing more than just drinking.

I nearly dropped my tray when I turned a corner and saw a Lord-one I didn’t recognize-with a female slave bent over a table. Her dress was pushed up around her waist. He was fucking her from behind, right there in the open hall, while his companions watched and made crude comments.

The woman’s face was blank. Empty. She stared at nothing while the Lord grunted and thrust.

Oh God. Is that going to be me? Used like that, in front of everyone, with no privacy, no dignity?

I quickly looked away and kept moving.

“More wine!” A gruff voice barked.

I turned to see a heavyset Lycan Lord gesturing impatiently at me. His face was flushed from drink, his eyes slightly unfocused.

“Yes, my Lord,” I said quietly, keeping my voice pitched low. I approached and refilled his glass.

He grabbed my wrist as I tried to pull away. His grip was painful.

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