Transmigrated: The Lycan King's Pet
Chapter 69 They are My Sisters

Chapter 69: Chapter 69 They are My Sisters

His words echoed down the corridor, burning through the silence. I flinched, not just from the sound, but from the storm in his voice. His eyes flicked, swirling with a madness I hadn’t seen before. Pure, unfiltered rage. His claws had fully extended now, and his breath came out in short, sharp huffs.

My head felt heavy. The walls around me swayed like trees in a storm. I blinked rapidly, but the darkness crept in from the corners of my vision, clawing at the edges. My body could no longer hold itself up. It was just too much, the pain was too much.

I felt the world tilting beneath me as my knees gave way, but strong arms caught me before I could hit the ground.

"Ember," Damon’s jaws twitched. He shook me gently, cradling my face. "Who did this to you? Tell me who touched you!"

I tried to speak, my lips barely moved.

"Al..." I whispered, but I never finished. My tongue went numb. My eyes rolled back.

And then everything turned black.

.....

(Third person POV)

Damon stared down at her limp body in his arms, his chest rising and falling with heavy, uneven breaths. His heart thundered beneath his ribs, wild and violent. She wasn’t moving. Her blood soaked into his sleeves, warm and terrifying.

"Al...?" he echoed, but the rest of the name never came. His mind raced. He looked down at her pale face again and swallowed hard.

He pressed her tighter against his chest, as if that could protect her from whatever had already been done. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze to Alaric.

"Find out who did this," Damon growled, his voice dark and dangerous. "I want their head."

Alaric gave a silent nod.

Damon didn’t bother to spare Lydia or Caroline a glance."Lock them in the dungeon. Don’t question them, and don’t touch them yet... I’ll deal with them myself."

"Understood."

Without another word, Damon stepped away. His arms tightened around Ember’s unconscious body as he carried her out of the cell, through the dim corridors, his steps heavy with fury.

...

I blinked slowly as I stirred in my sleep, the fabric beneath me soft and strangely comforting. For a moment, I didn’t move. My body felt heavy, like I had sunk into the earth and the weight of it refused to let me rise. My back throbbed, every heartbeat sending a dull sting crawling across my spine.

I shifted slightly, sucking in a shaky breath as I felt the sharp burn from the bandages wrapped tightly around me. That was when I realized I wasn’t lying on the mattress in my cell. This wasn’t my cell.

My eyes opened fully, and I stared at the dim ceiling above me.

The scent hit me next.

The scent of chocolate and pine. A scent I had come to recognize—not because it brought me peace, but because it always came before something unpredictable. Damon.

’Yeah, my psychotic master.’

I forced myself up with a low groan, my arms trembling as they took my weight. The blanket slid off my shoulders. My clothes have been charged, and I looked nothing more than a mummy, I mean just my torso. A part of me wondered who had touched me while I was unconscious.

The moment I sat upright, my head spun. I held onto the edge of the mattress, biting down a whimper. My gaze slowly swept the room, taking in the tall windows, the flickering candles in their golden holders, the heavy furniture that stood too clean, and boring.

I clenched my jaw.

A sliver of panic cut through me as I remembered everything. Caroline’s sobs. Lydia’s trembling voice. Damon’s rage. My collapse.

I didn’t know how long I had been out—but I knew I had to move. I had to find them. I had to make sure they were safe. I couldn’t lie around in his bed while they are not safe, possibly awaiting punishment, if they aren’t dead yet.

At the thought of their death, my heart twisted as if it had been squeezed out. ’No, no, nothing can happen to them.’

I swung my legs off the bed and immediately hissed when my feet touched the ground. My back screamed in protest, and my legs nearly buckled. I caught the edge of a nearby table, using it to steady myself as I stood.

Everything hurt, but I didn’t stop.

I dragged myself toward the door, each step slow and uneven. The pain was unbearable, but I swallowed it. I had to get out. I had to...

The door flung open.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand still on the wall for balance.

Damon stood there.

His face was unreadable. But his eyes... they were locked on me with something I couldn’t name burning behind them.

I stared at him. My brows furrowed. Then my lips pressed into a flat, tired line. I didn’t have the strength to talk to him. I didn’t have the voice to beg. All I had was the ache in my chest and the dull question in my throat.

"Where are they?" I asked, my voice low and raw. "Where’s Caroline? Where’s Lydia?"

His jaw tightened. He stepped inside slowly, shutting the door behind him without a word.

I stayed rooted to the spot, my body swaying slightly from the pain and the effort of standing. "What did you do to them?" My tone sharpened as I spoke again. "Tell me. Are they okay?"

He walked closer, but I lifted a hand, warning him not to come any further.

"Don’t," I said, my voice trembling. "Don’t walk up to me like you didn’t just stand there and try to pretend everything is okay."

His eyes darkened. "Everything is not okay."

I let out a bitter breath. "Of course it’s not."

"I’m so disappointed in you Ember, you have become friends with witches." He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"They are not witches, and they are not my friends... They are my sisters."

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