Page 31 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

The witch has crafted a sound barrier around them. They don’t want any of us to know what they’re asking. They don’t want us to have time to formulate lies. They want to catch us by surprise.

But I don’t need to hear their conversations, their questions, to know what they’re asking. There’s only one thing they truly care to know about us, one thing they’d go through all this trouble to find out.

The witches are checking to see if we’re virgins.

Minutes pass, and they repeat the same process: they ask the captured female questions, the younger witch touches her, and they send her through a door—some through the one on the left, others the right.

My heart erupts into a violent cadence, ricocheting off my insides. I swivel my head between the two doors. My feet move me forward even as every instinct in me warns me to run, to hide, to fight.

But I can’t. Their shackles and their drugs and their magic make that impossible. The only way out is through.

We are the stars. I promise I will find you. Te lo prometo .

With my heart in my throat, I stare straight ahead. My shoulders ache, fingers twitching from the angle of my arms, but I dare not roll them to ease the discomfort for fear of drawing attention to myself.

The line continues moving as, one by one, all the females are sent through one of the two doors. My heart pounds faster with the exit of each hostage as we draw closer to the witches.

Left. Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Right.

“What do you think, Kanon?” Nuncio mutters when we’re almost at the front of the line. “Do you think our pretty prize is…pure? Do you think they’ll hide her away until she’s ready for auction?”

Kanon—Eye Patch—takes a step back to appraise me.

He bites his lip, eyes lingering on my breasts.

“Feisty thing like that?” he says, crossing his arms and widening his stance.

“No way.” He shakes his head. “No, I bet she knows how to have and give a good time. She’ll be a fun toy to add to the collection at your club. ”

Nuncio hums his response. His hand glides up and down the chain at my back, his knuckles almost—but not quite—brushing my skin.

Pendejo . I shudder and gulp as this asshole tugs on the chain, stepping so close that my head almost leans against his chest.

“I call first dibs if that’s the case.” His hot breath fans my ear. “I’m the one who found her, after all.” He pushes me forward as the female ahead of me is sent through the door on the left.

My eyes widen as their words hit me. The virgins will get auctioned off at a later date, but those who aren’t are the ones they send to their nasty clubs.

Nuncio places me in front of the witches.

My vision blurs, and my palms sweat. Every cell in my body is filled with anger, desperation, and exhaustion, setting my muscles trembling.

The witch from the van smiles at me before turning her attention to the males. “I trust your hands behaved themselves this time?” She raises her perfectly arched brows.

Nuncio grunts his response.

She smiles bigger. “Good.” Her focus hones in on me again, and she tucks my hair behind my ear before undoing my gag.

I gasp and stretch my mouth, shutting my eyes at the ache in my jaw .

“That’s it.” She strokes my hair and makes calming, shushing sounds.

I quiver in front of her and catch my breath. Tears line my eyes, brought on by the relief of having control of my mouth again.

She taps me under the chin. “Isn’t that so much better?”

I nod, responding to her question automatically even as my body revolts against her touch and phony sweetness.

“Now tell me, sweet girl, what is your name?”

“Anaís,” I answer, voice shaking and raspy.

I focus on keeping my eyes locked on her and my heart at an even rhythm, like I’ve been trained to do when crafting a fake background story. It’s racing and stuttering anyway, so I doubt the lie is detectable.

Does it count as a lie when it’s my middle name?

“How old are you?” She angles her head to the side.

I swallow again to ease the dryness in my mouth. “Twenty-three.” Not a lie.

Mix the truth with the lies. Make it more believable.

“Are you a virgin?”

I nod.

I have to convince them. I can’t be another trophy in Nuncio’s collection. I can’t become his plaything.

I clench my jaw as she straightens. She steps closer until the metallic green of her semi-sheer gown brushes my skin and her face hovers over mine.

Her chilling eyes flick across my features and down to my mouth.

Her lips lower towards mine, and I cower away, straining against the vise grip of her fingers digging into my chin and her cruel power circling around me.

“We’ll see about that, sweet thing.” She releases me and spins away with a flourish, snapping at the younger witch. “Examine her, Brenna. Find out if she speaks the truth.”

“Yes, Mistress Amara.”

Soft, broken blue eyes meet mine. In them, I see a vast ocean of misery and hopelessness, even deeper than my own. Their depths tell me a story of reluctant obedience, of oppression and captivity.

She’s probably as much a hostage as I am .

My heartbeat is faster than a hummingbird’s wings. I hold Brenna’s gaze as she approaches, pleading with my eyes. I vow with my stare, making a promise: to help her, to free her, if she lies for me now.

It’s a promise I’m unsure I can keep but one I make all the same.

She blinks at me, expressionless. Her graceful hands lift to my face, dainty fingers brushing my lips.

And she releases her power.

Memories flood through me, yanked to the forefront of my mind, drawn forward by the magnetic magic in her touch.

Memories of Sebastian kissing me, of me kissing him.

Of his lips on my mouth or hovering over it.

Of his tongue swiping across the seam, thumb tracing beneath, and his dick sliding between them.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I clamp them shut as her touch travels lower, down my throat. The memories change to ones of him wrapping his hands around it, holding me away from him as I try to kiss him, of him tying my red choker, his fingers gentle as they trace the fabric.

Lower and lower she goes, pulling memory after memory from me, each one associated with a different part of my body. Each one featuring my Sebastián .

As gut-wrenching as they are, I don’t shy away from the memories or her touch. I don’t flinch. The other witch and my handlers will only force me to hold still if I do. And maybe—just maybe—Brenna can sense the emotions tied to those memories. Maybe she’ll realize, maybe she’ll understand…

“Promise me you’ll find me again.”

The words echo in my mind, the moment playing behind my shut eyelids like a movie.

Brenna’s finger draws shapes over my clit and pussy, but I clench my jaw and ignore it, pushing the memory harder towards her, hoping she finds it in herself to help me.

Sebastian holds me in his arm, his body covering mine. Our hands press into his chest, our hearts and breaths in complete synchronization.

“I promise I will find you.”

Brenna drops her hand, and I gasp as the magnetic magic vanishes and my memories fall back into the safety of my mind.

Goosebumps cover my skin, and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

I shudder as my knees shake, legs threatening to give out from under me after the intrusion into my memories and the violation of my body.

But I breathe through it all, keeping myself steady and upright.

I open my eyes slowly, meeting hers again. Her hand shakes slightly, and she stares back at me, an intensity in her gaze that wasn’t there before.

I hold my breath as I wait for her to decide my fate.