Page 115 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

“I, Sara Anaís Goodrich Cisneros, promise to govern and protect every lycan and werewolf, whether they be from a pack, a nomad, a rogue, or a lone wolf…” I recite the coronation vow repeatedly under my breath as I pace the length of the dressing room attached to the greenhouse.

My mom watches me with a raised brow, ready to snap at me if I try to sit down in my coronation gown or if I lift a hand to mess with the low, loose bun at my nape.

“I, Sara Anaís—”

“Oh, please.” Micah’s scoff interrupts my pacing. He leans against the now open door frame, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’ve been reciting that vow since you learned how to talk. I don’t think you need to practice it anymore.”

“It’s a big deal. What if I forget a line or mix up the words?”

Micah shrugs. “You won’t.” He wraps me in a hug, and I try to relax at his reassuring confidence. “Besides, this is all a formality anyway. You’ve been the queen for months.”

Mom shoves him away from me. “Her gown will wrinkle!”

“I’m sure you have a steamer tucked away in every closet in this palace just in case that happens,” Micah retorts.

“Don’t downplay your sister’s big day!”

“ Es broma, Mamá ,” he mutters to appease her, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’m joking.”

“You better be,” Mom warns.

Micah lifts his hands in surrender. “I didn’t come here to be attacked.”

“Then why did you come?” I ask.

“I brought you a visitor.”

The door opens again, and Sebastian saunters in, wearing a dark green dress uniform with gold trim and buttons.

I sprint to him and launch myself into his embrace.

My mom grabs me to keep me out of his arms. “Her dress!”

“?Déjalos en paz, el traje va a estar bien!” Micah yells, trying to convince Mom to let us be.

“The dress will not be fine, and he’s not supposed to be here!”

Micah arches a brow. “You’re telling me you didn’t sneak in to see Dad the day of his coronation?”

“That’s…not the point!” Mom sputters.

Sebastian and I stand with a foot of space between us, grinning at each other like two lovesick fools, while my mom and brother argue.

The light blue underskirt of my extravagant royal blue gown sweeps over the tops of his shoes.

His eyes beam with love and admiration as he takes me in, gaze lingering on the swell of my breasts above the gold-trimmed sweetheart neckline, and the way the fabric drapes off my shoulders and leaves my chest and neck exposed.

I feel like a cupcake in this poofy ball gown, but he stares at me like I’m a priceless painting.

“I come bearing a gift,” Sebastian says to my mom, handing her a gift bag and interrupting her and Micah’s bickering.

She eyes it skeptically before taking it, carefully removing the tissue paper and revealing a purple T-shirt with Luna Tatiana screen printed on the front.

Her lips twitch with a laugh. “You can have five minutes.” She grabs Micah’s wrist and tugs him out of the room with her as she leaves.

The door clicks shut, and then I’m in Sebastian’s arms. He holds me tightly, but he’s careful with my hair and my dress, and even my makeup, kissing me on my cheeks and forehead instead of on my red-painted lips.

“Stunning,” he murmurs between brushes of his lips on my skin. “You are absolutely stunning, my queen. ”

“You clean up pretty well yourself.” I adjust the gold cords on his shoulder, then run my fingers through the strands of perfectly disheveled hair falling in his face. “You really aren’t supposed to be here, though.”

That charming, cocky grin I love so much appears on his lips as he gently plays with the softly curled pieces of hair framing my face. “You know I can’t stay away. I’ve never been able to stay away from you.”

See? Charming.

“There’s no backing out after today,” I remind him.

“Backing out isn’t an option. It never was. And Wesley already appointed my replacement. You’re stuck with me for life, carino .”

“You don’t regret this?”

I don’t know why I ask that. I have his mark. I have his collar. If he regretted it, I’d know. I’d feel it. But all I feel from him, all I ever feel, is pure love and complete commitment.

He’s all in.

“The only thing I regret is making you think I’d ever choose anything other than you.”

He takes my hands in his and lifts my knuckles to his lips. He kisses each one over and over and then kisses the scars on my wrists.

Goddess, what did I ever do to deserve him as my mate?

This male who not only embraces me, scars and all, but worships those scars?

This male who thinks I’m beautiful not despite my scars but because of them?

This male who has never once judged me for the things I did to survive and find my way back to him?

Before I can say “fuck it” and slam my lips on his, the door opens once more. Sebastian’s grip on my hands tightens as my dad raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Everyone keeps telling me that, yet somehow I’m still here.”

My dad doesn’t react. No laugh, no smile, not even a blink. He just says “We’re starting in five minutes.”

“I’ll see myself out then.” Sebastian kisses my knuckles one more time, then leaves the room.

“I like him,” my dad says as soon as Sebastian’s gone, a smile finally forming on his face.

I smile back at him. “I do too. ”

He strolls towards me. The deep red velvet coronation robe with ermine trim and gold embroidery drapes over his arm, and the smile he had for Sebastian now turns into a smile for me—full of pride and affection.

I warm beneath it.

“I’d hug you, but your mother will kill me if I wrinkle your gown,” he teases.

“She already yelled at Micah and Sebastian for that.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He chuckles and offers me his other arm. “It’s almost time.”

I link arms with him, and we leave the holding room and walk to the greenhouse’s front door in silence. The murmur of the crowd from inside filters through the glass windows and the open skylights on the roof, adding to my fluttering nerves.

When we reach the door, he unfurls the robe and rests it on my shoulders, keeping his hands there as tears spill over his bottom eyelids. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you in this,” he admits. “I feared we’d lost you forever.”

“That wouldn’t have happened. Sebastian promised me we’d see each other again. He promised he’d find me.”

“I am forever in his debt for fulfilling those promises.”

The murmuring stops, and the orchestra plays.

Dad squeezes my shoulders, then backs away, slipping through the doors to the greenhouse so he can take his place in front of the crowd.

I peek through a crack between the double doors, watching him as he turns to everyone. His expression becomes solemn and kingly, but the shimmering in his eyes gives away everything he’s truly feeling.

The greenhouse is packed. Within the crowd, I spot my mom and Micah, my friends, and Sebastian’s friends and family.

Everyone is here. Everyone is here to watch me take the throne.

And yet, I’m no longer nervous. The butterflies calm in my stomach, my heart ends its race with itself, and I stand tall as I wait for the doors to open for me.

Sarina holds her chin high as she walks down the aisle in the center of the greenhouse. She doesn’t turn her head or flick her eyes towards me as she passes. She keeps her gaze straight ahead, on her dad.

As she should. This is her day more than it is mine. All eyes are on her, and she deserves to revel in their attention.

I’ll get her all to myself later.

If I thought she looked stunning before, it’s nothing compared to how she looks now.

The deep wine red of the cloak contrasts gorgeously with the royal blue of her gown.

The gold embroidery on both glitters in the sunlight, outshining the beauty of every flower in the greenhouse, even the honeysuckle.

The white fur speckled with black at the neck of the robe and along the edges adds to the grandeur of her ensemble.

Her gold and ruby necklace—a family heirloom, not the choker I gave her—and matching earrings add luster to her already glowing skin.

She looks every bit the queen she is.

“Today,” Malachi begins as the music fades, addressing the crowd with his voice but staring at Sarina, “is an important day.

It is a day of celebration for us all as I pass the crown to my firstborn.

I have enjoyed my years as your king, but my time is over, and I am honored to hand my title over to my daughter.

“Before I crown her, however,” he continues, “my daughter would like to honor those who are no longer with us. She asks that we remember those who could not be here today. She asks that we honor their sacrifices with a moment of silence.”

The guests lower their heads.

I fold my hands, clenching my jaw and blinking to keep tears from entering my eyes.

We held a memorial for Dominic a few weeks ago, and my dad’s funeral was months before that, but it hasn’t gotten easier.

There are so many times I reach for my phone to call and ask him for advice.

So many days where I wish I could make him laugh one more time, or hear him yell at us for breaking the packhouse furniture like he did when we were kids. But I can’t. He’s gone .

And Savvy. She’ll never remember Dominic, her other dad. She won’t have the closure of a headstone or an urn with his ashes. All she’ll have is the stories we share with her about him.

“Be at peace,” Malachi murmurs, ending the moment of remembrance.

He takes Sarina’s crown—a gorgeous, custom-made headpiece crafted from gold and inlaid with diamonds and rubies—from the pillowed pedestal beside him.

“It is now time for my daughter to take her place as the queen, the alpha of alphas.” He lifts the crown above her head as she kneels.

“Sara Anaís Goodrich Cisneros.” His voice echoes off the glass.

“You are the heir of Conan. Do you accept your role as our queen?”