Page 1 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

My feet pound against the pavement, my combat boots as heavy as bricks at the end of my legs. They slow me down, but I fight through the tension and the burning in my muscles.

A fire scorches my lungs. It crawls up my chest, searing my throat with its intensity, but I don’t let up my pace as I race through the dark back alleys of this seedy city.

The pungent, acrid scents of the dumpsters behind the buildings don’t help my breathlessness.

They cling to my nostrils and coat the insides of my lungs until I’m close to gagging.

I push the urge down, though, gritting my teeth and continuing on my path. I put distance between myself and the club, winding through the city using the road less traveled. The alleys blur together. I can’t tell one from the next, the trail almost a hedge maze hidden behind the city.

The stars serve as my only guide, pointing me towards safety, and even they fade in and out of view as the lighting in the backstreets shifts.

I scan the shadowed recesses of the alleys in my periphery as I run, checking the doorways and fire escapes of the dilapidated buildings for any signs of life.

There are none. Not even a stray cat yowling in heat or a rat searching for scraps in the trash.

Others may fear the isolation. They avoid places like this at all costs, preferring to exist in the safety of the bright and loud. But the absence of others doesn’t surprise or deter me.

I knew the risks of coming here alone. I took them anyway .

Sweat coats my body, dripping off the tip of my nose and coalescing in the small of my back.

The late spring heat wave hints at the ultra-hot summer creeping up on us.

The air is still, with no breeze to ease the stifling, pressing warmth.

My leather jacket chafes on my armpits from my damp, sticky skin.

I keep my focus on the path ahead of me instead of glancing over my shoulders. I don’t need to check. I know they are following me.

Their eyes were on me as soon as I entered their club.

Another risk I took. Going there. Drinking. Dancing.

Risk taking seems to be a habit of mine. A habit that’s grown worse over the years but usually pays off, which is probably why I’ve continued to take those risks.

Through the city I sprint, keeping to the shadows, to the unsavory places.

The bastards hunting me prefer them, thrive on them.

But so do I. I’ve spent years living within these sinister locales, making myself one with them and learning their secrets.

My expertise, my penchant for the dark and taboo, may give me the upper hand I need.

I take the next corner, my body angling with my speed, but I skid to a halt when I almost crash straight into a male.

Maldita sea, esto no es bueno.

My eyes widen as I stare at his imposing presence, taken aback by his height and build.

Definitely not good.

He grins venomously at me. A gold tooth in his mouth glints in the light of the lone streetlamp at the far end of the otherwise dark alley. “Well. Look what we have here,” he taunts, his lip curling. “A little rogue.”

“I’m not a rogue!” I growl at him, bristling at his intended insult.

I ignore the pang that name creates in my gut when spoken by this bastard. I ignore the gray eyes, the messy-on-purpose sandy brown hair, and the smug, cunning smile that flashes in my memories upon hearing it.

No.

I shove all that down and run in the opposite direction, heading back the way I came. But I misjudged the proximity of those pursuing me. That, or there were more lying in wait, like the male with the gold tooth. Lying in wait as they set a trap. A trap para mí .

They’ve made me their target.

Two more males stalk towards me from the other end of the alley, from where I turned the corner only moments ago, both of them wearing grins matching the one of the male behind me.

As they draw closer, Gold Tooth hums an off-key, haunting version of some child’s lullaby.

The eerie tune is a bucket of ice water thrown over me, and I shudder, swallowing back the bile rising in my throat.

I dart forward and then fake to the left before springing towards the dumpster to my right.

I haul myself on top of it and sprint across the lid, my footsteps echoing off the mostly empty interior of the large metal container, and I leap for the fire escape attached to the red brick building on my right.

My hands grasp the bottom rung, and I swing forward, flipping in midair and landing on my feet at the end of the alley.

I don’t pause at all after I stick my dismount.

I use the momentum from my flip to continue sprinting.

Air enters my lungs through a straw in my throat, but I continue to ignore the strain from my prolonged marathon through the city.

That’s not what’s important right now, not what my brain needs to focus on as I lead these males on a mad chase.

I take an immediate right into an alley that is a mirror image of the one I just exited, hoping to circle back around to the end of that one and make a break for the field on the other side of the chain-link fence. And once again, I find myself cornered.

Two additional burly henchmen—one with a crooked nose and the other with an eye patch, both cut from the same imposing cloth as the gold-toothed male—stand there, waiting for me. I hear the footsteps of the three males behind me, and I grit my teeth, weighing my options.

?Mierda!

Shit. Shitshitshit.

Piensa, Sarina. ?Qué vas a hacer ahora?

But my choice to think about what to do next costs me, exacerbated by the strain on my body from sprinting for the past twenty minutes and from the alcohol I drank at the club. The males I ran from are closer behind me than I realized, and a needle pierces my skin at the crook of my neck.

I slap at the syringe, grabbing at the arm holding it and extending my claws to pierce its flesh. My claws meet resistance, however, blocked by some type of bullet or claw-proof fabric. I yank myself away from him, but another male grabs me, pinning me in place .

My shoulders heave as the plunger is pushed down, injecting me with wolfsbane.

I struggle and writhe the entire time. I sense it creeping through my bloodstream immediately, my claws retracting without my permission as it winds through my system.

The mixture they dosed me with must be potent—a higher dosage than what it should be for a female of my size—for it to work that quickly.

Gold Tooth’s arm wraps around my neck, and he drops the needle as he ensnares me, immobilizing my arms as his other one circles my waist. He squeezes me as tightly as a python compressing its prey, ensuring I cannot escape.

Stars prick into existence at the edge of my vision, and I fight against his hold, working to get air into my aching lungs.

Eye Patch and Crooked Nose laugh darkly as they watch me thrash like a mouse caught in a trap. They step closer and grab the discarded needle from the ground.

Eye Patch scans me with his uncovered eye, his grin widening at the exposed skin of my stomach and my legs. He licks his lips and toys with the ends of my dark hair, leaning closer and bringing his stale stench with him.

No. No, no, no. No te rindas, Sarina. No puedes dejar que te lleven.

I can’t give up. I can’t let them take me.

I kick out in front of me, aiming for his balls, but it’s like wading through mud, as if my limbs are filled with liquid lead. Every movement is sluggish, and my body is heavy.

A sedative. There was a sedative in that syringe too. Between that, the insanely high dosage of wolfsbane, and the heavy-handed drinks they served at the club, I’m weakening at a rate I shouldn’t be.

I’ll be powerless all too soon, completely cut off from my abilities. And my pack.

Panic rises within me, my thundering heart racing faster and pushing the drugs through my system.

Cálmate, Sarina. I need to calm down. The more I fight and the faster my heart beats, the quicker the drugs will work.

It’s too late, though.

Fear overtakes me. My movements become wild and frantic as I try to break free from Gold Tooth’s hold.

I fling my head backwards, hoping to make contact with his nose, but Gold Tooth laughs at my attempts and spins us, pinning me between his body and the wall of the alley. The brick grazes the skin of my cheek .

“ ?Mierda! ” I cry out. Shit.

I jerk in his hold, and my fingers curl as I try to pry my arms free, but his hold on me is like a vise.

“Such a pretty little thing.” His dank breath in my ear reeks of beer, cigarettes, and salted peanuts. “She’ll catch a pretty little sum to match her pretty little face and body, won’t she, boys?”

He crowds me, his stance widening as he hovers over me, kissing my jawline and dragging his nose up my cheek. It circles around to the top of my head, and he inhales as he goes, a low groan vibrating in his chest.

My throat tightens, and I strain against his touch to pull away, but the hot brick wall in front of me prevents that.

His hand flexes against my hip then wanders, trailing across my stomach and down over my shorts.

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my lips together to smother any sound that might escape as he violates my body. My distress will only arouse him further, and I shiver with a silent, shuddering sob of disgust.

Gold Tooth cups my pussy through my clothing, fingers pushing up in a pulsing rhythm as he mimics the movements of his hand with his hips against my ass, making sure I feel his hardened dick.

I twitch, trying to move my crotch away from his hand or my ass away from his dick, but I’m weak and almost immobile with the cocktail of drugs and alcohol working their way through my body like oozing mud, rendering me useless—nothing more than a body for them to take and manipulate.

Gold Tooth twists us. Eye Patch grabs my wrists and yanks me forward as Gold Tooth continues groping me, taking advantage of my pathetic, hopelessly debilitated state.

His lips wander along with his hands, kissing and stroking any bit of exposed skin he can find.

With gloved hands, Crooked Nose pulls out a pair of silver cuffs.

Another silent, shaking sob works its way up through my body as I resign myself to this fate while still clinging to what little strength remains within me.

My vision blurs as fuzz and static fill my mind, but at the edge of my consciousness, I feel the connection between myself and my pack members fading fast. I need to get through to them before the drugs and the silver completely block the connection .

Shutting my eyes again, I shoot off a mindlink, hoping it reaches my pack.

“They have me.”