Page 37 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

Wesley pulls me to my feet, his words bolstering me. There’s a confidence in his tone and in his gait as we walk through the forest that leaches into me, that boosts my optimism and gives me a renewed hope—a hope that dwindled over the years with Sarina’s absence.

“What all have you already done to find her?” he asks.

I pick up my pace to walk by his side. “Dad helped me,” I admit. “We contacted packs all over the country and overseas, used his connections in human law enforcement and government agencies, and even bribed people a few times.”

From the corner of my eye, I see his body tense and his jaw tick, but he doesn’t comment on our dad’s willingness to help me when he refused to use the same tactics to get Haven safely to our pack sixteen years ago.

“We asked the king for help too,” I continue, steering the conversation away from our dad.

Wesley will need to talk with him eventually, but their lingering animosity can’t be our focus at the moment.

“All his leads were dead ends, though. Which makes sense now. If she was working for him on a top-secret mission, he wouldn’t want to reveal her location.

Hell, he probably drove us further away from her intentionally.

” I shake my head, and I can’t help but chuckle about it. “That dickhead.”

Wesley shakes his head as well. “I can’t get over the fact that he knew her when he questioned her because we thought they were suspicious.”

“ You thought they were suspicious,” I correct. “I trusted them. Her.”

His eyes slide to me, and a smirk spreads across his face. “I’m sure you did.”

I shove him, and he bumps into a tree trunk, laughing too hard to stop his momentum .

I roll my eyes and sigh. “You’ve been spending too much time with Reid.”

“He’s my beta.”

“He’s a dickhead too.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “You’re not wrong there.

” His steps move in the opposite direction of the packhouse, heading around the lake towards the home he built for Haven as a wedding gift.

“Everyone is waiting for us at my house,” he says before I can ask why we’re going there.

“We felt it best that Dominic and the others stay hidden while we’re helping them. ”

“The others?”

“The other rogues. Nomads .” He corrects himself before I can. “Sarina’s friends who were here before. They’re staying at our house tonight.”

“And tomorrow?” I ask.

We climb the porch stairs of his and Haven’s massive, custom-built log cabin nestled within the thickest part of the Crescent Lake forest.

“I have a few ideas for where they can stay, but you don’t need to worry about that at the moment.” He reaches for the doorknob, then pauses and glances at me over his shoulder. “Is your lycan under control now?”

I swear my lycan rolls his eyes at Wesley. “Yes. We’re both calm and aware that it isn’t Dominic’s fault that our… that Sarina is in danger.”

I know he clocks my slip of the tongue, but he says nothing and opens the front door.

We’re greeted by low voices tumbling through the house from the living room and the scent of fresh wood burning in the fireplace.

A female with a head of wild red curls flings herself into Wesley’s arms before he can get the door shut, completely unfazed by the blood and dirt on his clothing.

Haven clutches Wesley’s face in her hands, examining the already healing bruises from the few hits I got in during our tussle.

“I’m fine,” he reassures her, lowering her hands from his face and kissing her knuckles. “Stop stressing. It’s not good for the baby.”

“I wouldn’t have to stress if you didn’t do dickheaded things, like beat up your brother.” She steps backwards, out of Wesley’s arms, and strokes her massive baby bump.

“Seb can’t hurt me.” He winks at me.

I hold my hand out to him like I want a handshake. “Want to bet on it?”

“Absolutely not. ”

Haven glances at me as Wes wraps his arm around her waist and guides her back into their living room. “Are you okay?”

I give her what I’m sure is an unconvincing smile as my answer and follow them through their house.

They’ve only lived here for a year and a half, but already they’ve made it into a home. Photos of the two of them are in every room, mixed in with framed copies of their letters to each other from their childhood, all of it creating a story of true love and pure happiness.

The living room is warm from the small fire in their gorgeous stone fireplace. It’s late spring, but the evenings are still cool. The fire casts a cozy, hazy glow over the room and its occupants.

Dominic seems more relaxed here, sitting in an armchair with a glass of water in his hand, staring out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the fireplace.

Nolan and Cassandra sit on the hearth, her hand on his knee and his dark-bronze fingers playing with the ends of her long golden-brown hair.

Cavalier—Haven’s half-wolf, half-husky—lies at their feet, wearing his lilac tutu like he always does.

Rune sits on the large couch, between Landon and Steele, and Riven leans against the wall behind them with his arms crossed.

Wes leads Haven to the armchair that matches Dominic’s and helps her sit, then stands behind it, leaning on the back.

“Where are Reid and Taryn?” I cross the living room and plop down on the hearth next to Nolan.

“They had to get Savvy from Reid’s dad and take her home. It’s her bedtime,” Dominic replies.

“Did you get to see her yet?”

He shakes his head and sets his water on the side table next to his chair. “They’re going to bring her by in the morning.”

I glance around the room at everyone. My eyes lock with Wesley’s for a moment. He nods, giving me permission to take the lead.

A rush of gratitude towards him floods through me. He has no obligation to take a step back on this mission, and I wouldn’t protest if he insisted on maintaining his image as the alpha for it. But he doesn’t, which means more to me than he realizes.

“What have you done so far to find Sarina?” I ask Dominic .

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not much beyond retracing our steps from last night. Once we were one hundred percent confident she was missing, I contacted King Malachi, and he sent us here.”

“Why us? Why not ask other members of the guard? Or other royal pack members?”

“Like I mentioned before, your pack has many gifted members, and you knew—know—Sarina. And this mission doesn’t exist. No one knows about any of it.”

I rub my chin as he speaks, trying to think of what we can do.

The king and the royal pack have more resources at their disposal, but we can’t utilize any of them, which means we’re left with our own talents, resources, and pack members.

But even though we’re not the royal pack, Dominic is right.

We have many gifted members—an oracle, the daughter of Selene, a healer, a hybrid…

“Does Maya know a spell we can use to try to locate her?” I ask Haven.

I don’t know why I never thought of it before.

Or once we learned, after Wesley and Haven’s wedding, that Maya was half witch.

Probably because, by that point, I was so used to doing it mostly on my own and to keeping the details of my search hidden from everyone.

If I’d asked Maya for help, she’d have spilled the beans to Haven, and Haven doesn’t keep secrets from Wesley.

Which is how it should be between mates: honesty and transparency, always. No secrets, no lies. Just pure and complete trust.

Haven tilts her head to the side, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her stomach as she thinks. “I don’t know. I can ask her, but—”

“It won’t work,” Rune says.

“Why not?” I ask.

“I already tried.”

I wrinkle my brow at her. “ You tried?”

“I’m a hybrid.”

I sit up straighter. My eyes flick between her and the males seated on either side of her, noting how Landon holds her hand in his but her body leans towards Steele, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. I kick myself for never noticing there was something more between the three of them.

“None of Sarina’s belongings hold any meaning to her,” Rune continues. “We destroy and replace everything every time we move to a new location, so she holds no attachment to anything she left behind at our most recent campsite. We have nothing with sentimental value.”

“What about her parents? Surely, they have something? Have they been contacted? Do they know she’s missing?” Cassandra asks.

Rune’s eyes flick to Dominic and then over the back of the couch to Riven, who has silently observed our conversation this entire time, his body still tense and his brown eyes framed by dark circles.

“They are aware of Sarina’s situation”—Riven runs his hand through his blond hair and cracks his neck—“but they’re doing their own work for the royal pack.

If we meet with them to receive something sentimental to Sarina, we risk drawing attention to our entire operation, and exposing and undoing years of work. ”

My thoughts wander. I hear his words, but my mind is in the past. It’s in Sarina’s tent, with her kneeling in front of me, her hands tied behind her back with the strip of red fabric I brought with me that night.

It’s in Sarina’s tent, blinking awake and finding her gone, with only that same piece of fabric and the blanket we slept under left behind.

I clear my throat. “I might have something.”

All the eyes in the room turn towards me, waiting for me to continue.

I rub my palms on my thighs. “When you all moved on four years ago, she left behind a blanket and a piece of a dress, and I kept both.” I swear Nolan snickers next to me, but when I glance at him, his face is blank.

“I have them in my apartment in the packhouse. I know the blanket probably won’t be enough, but maybe the fabric from her dress would work. ”

Rune groans and shakes her head in exasperation, leaning forward so her words are directed straight at me. “I already told you we don’t get sentimental about our belongings, and we destroy everything—”