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Chapter SEVENTEEN

Back in the Forest — Third POV

Tom had no idea what he was witnessing.

John—standing there in the forest kingdom’s throne hall—looked completely out of place, and the fresh scar on his face made Tom’s stomach twist. But even that wasn’t the most shocking thing.

It was the King.

The sa arrogant, chest-puffed ruler who had spoken down to Tom earlier suddenly sprang from his throne and rushed toward John like a dog hurrying to greet its true master.

"My lord... what brings you here today?" the King asked, voice trembling as he guided John to the throne—his throne—and sat him there like a servant offering his seat.

Tom stared, expecting Elder Lothbrok to object, complain, or at least show surprise.

But the elder didn’t move.

He didn’t even breathe loudly.

Only shivered in pure terror.

In fact, every man in the room felt it—fear so overwhelming that several of them pissed themselves.

And that was when Tom realized the truth.

They’re terrified of John.

John glanced at Tom once, recognition flickering in his eyes, but he didn’t reveal him.

As Tom continued staring, sothing else caught his attention—a tal slave collar around John’s neck.

A slave.

Yet everyone feared him more than they feared death.

"Leave," John said calmly.

Everyone obeyed imdiately.

Everyone except the King, who stayed trembling beside him.

Before Tom could make sense of anything, guards dragged him out of the hall and threw him into a dark, foul room. Sewage leaked through cracks and pooled across the floor. There was no bed, no light—just cold stone, rot, and filth.

So this was what the King ant when he said Tom would be a "guest."

He should’ve just admitted he was taking him prisoner.

Tom found the one dry corner and sat there, hugging himself. The sll, the darkness, the hopelessness—it swallowed him until his mind drifted into a mory he hadn’t touched in years.

---

Flashback

He rembered being small—so small his feet barely steadied him—as he was led into Isaac’s house. He’d been nervous, terrified even.

Would she accept him?

Luna.

His half-sister.

She turned when she heard who he was. Tom had braced himself for rejection... for coldness... for anger.

But instead, she ran to him.

Without hesitation, without doubt, she wrapped her small arms around him. His tiny body shook, tears spilling from his eyes before he could understand why. He hadn’t expected warmth. He hadn’t expected acceptance.

But Luna hugged him like he mattered.

Like she’d been waiting for a brother all along.

She didn’t understand why he cried... yet she held him tightly, petting his head gently until his tears softened into quiet whimpers.

For the first ti in his life, he felt like he belonged to soone.

---

Back to the Present

The flashback faded, and Tom returned to the filthy room with a strange, broken laugh. It echoed off the walls—half grief, half relief and a little of regret.

Then a faint sound tapped against the iron-barred window.

Tom looked up. Nothing.

But when he turned back, a black leaf drifted from the darkness and landed softly on his shoulder.

Before he could react, a shadow slipped behind him. A man dressed in black pressed a knife to Tom’s throat.

"Quiet, or die. you choose." the man whispered.

Tom froze.

Then the man removed his mask.

John.

"W-Who are you?" Tom stuttered.

"It’s ," John replied calmly.

Realizing who it was, Tom instinctively tried to push him away—but John didn’t move an inch. Instead, Tom lost his balance and fell straight into the sewage water he’d been struggling to avoid.

The splash was loud.

Too loud.

The guards were coming.

"You have to hide," Tom whispered urgently.

But John didn’t even look worried.

Panicking, Tom rushed to the door and held it shut with his whole body. But when the guards pushed, he was thrown backward like a child.

The door burst open.

"Why did you block the door?" one guard demanded.

Tom blurted the first thing that ca to his panicked mind.

"I... I love holding doors."

The guards exchanged looks, shaking their heads. One muttered that the sewage must be driving him insane and that he would rather kill himself than lose his mind in this hellhole.

Satisfied Tom was simply losing his mind, they left.

Tom got up, dripping and miserable.

"John?" he called softly.

Silence.

He searched every corner, every shadow—but there was nothing.

John was gone.

As if he had never been there at all.

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