Page 64 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

“No,” I insist, and her gaze snaps to my face. “It was never pretend before. It was always real. Everything I said, everything I did, every moment we’ve ever shared—all of it was real .”

She lowers her arms. The chain slides across my palm, and I close my hand around it as she turns away from me.

She doesn’t respond to my declaration. Her shoulders roll backwards as she takes deep, steady breaths to prepare herself, to fall into her role as my new toy .

“I’m ready.” Sarina dips her chin to the floor and keeps her eyes lowered.

Brenna stares at her, guilt and indecision flashing through her eyes. Her lips pinch together, and she takes a deep breath before switching her attention to me.

“Here.” She holds something out to me between her fingertips. “I hate to do this right now, when we’re already taking so many risks, but I can’t think of any other way to make sure you get this.”

Her hand and voice tremble. Where she was collected and helpful before, she’s now filled with an urgent desperation. Her eyes plead with me, wisps of hope floating within the gloom.

She shoves the item closer, and the light catches on a reddish gemstone set within a band of gold. “You can use this to find me later. If you find me, you find all of us.”

I take the ring from her and continue to stare at it, twisting it in different directions and watching as the shades of red dance in the light like flickering flames of a bonfire.

I shake my head. “I don’t know when—”

“It doesn’t matter when,” she insists, a matching flame roaring to life in her soul, her sudden passion drawing my focus back to her face.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes. Just find me and end them.

End them all.” The brief fire fades, melting back into quiet desperation.

“Please,” she whispers, her hands pressing into her stomach.

I hold her gaze and hand her the key for the door after I pocket her ring.

“I’ll hide the bloodstains and your cut so Amara doesn’t notice them,” she says, leading us from the room.

We follow her through the halls adorned with disgusting elegance.

With each step we take further away from the room, I slip more into my facade.

I adopt a swagger and paint a satisfied, smug half-smile on my lips.

I wrap the chain around my knuckles twice, pulling it taut to keep Sarina right on my heels.

To them, it will look like I’m keeping her on a short leash and lording my ownership over her. In reality, I’m keeping her within arm’s reach in case the worst happens—in case they realize I’m a fraud trying to infiltrate their operation to take them down and save all the girls they’ve hurt.

My act is slimy. Oily. It wraps around me, staining my soul with revolting smudges, and leaves me disgusted that I’ve painted myself in the same light as the ones running this operation .

Sarina’s trembling never stops. The tremors deepen, ingraining themselves into her posture and muscles. Her teeth chatter, and small whimpers slip through her clenched lips. It adds to our act, to the realism of it all, but it hurts my soul and angers my lycan.

I’m not sure how much more any of us can endure.

“There she is!” Amara approaches us as we reach the lobby, a hand pressed to her heart and a sickeningly sweet, prideful smile etched into her face. “My sweet girl! Our showstopper!”

Sarina tenses and flinches away from Amara. It’s subtle and almost indecipherable beneath the nonstop quivering of her muscles and limbs, but as in-tune as I am with her, I notice it.

“Oh, she looks lovely as your pet!” Amara coos.

Brenna moves to stand behind Amara, similar to the way Sarina stands behind me, and her nose wrinkles at Amara’s words.

“Anaís was our hardest girl to break,” Amara continues, unaware of Brenna’s expression of distaste or the rising fury within me. “But the end result made it worth it, don’t you think?” She smiles conspiratorially at me.

I mimic her expression before staring down at Sarina, choosing my words carefully. “She is perfect for me.”

It’s not a lie. She is perfect for me. I’ve always known it.

I just mean it in a different way than Amara does.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Amara nods and hands me a small gold key with black gems embedded into the metal. “Here is the key to unlock her chains.”

“How do I do that?” I turn it over in my hand to examine the weight and the lack of bits and key wards on it.

“You tap it with the intention of removing it, and it will detach,” she explains.

“Does it work the same way for the shackles? And the collar?”

“Yes,” she says. “Although, we recommend leaving them on the girls. As a reminder.”

I nod and pocket the key. It clinks against the vials of her blood, sending a shiver through me that I grit my teeth to suppress.

“I have a beautiful diamond-encrusted gold collar waiting at home for her that will take the place of this.” My finger traces around Sarina’s throat, right above the silver collar choking her neck. “I’ll leave the cuffs on her, of course. ”

Sarina’s eyes close, her teeth sinking into her lip as she tries to ignore the words that enhance our pretense.

“That sounds stunning.” Amara turns to Sarina and paints a faux motherly smile on her face. “See, sweet girl? I told you your new master would spoil you, take care of you, and treat you like a princess.”

Sarina lowers her head more, shielding her face with her hair, as a large shiver runs through her.

“May I give her a hug?” Amara is still staring at Sarina with nauseating adoration. “She was my favorite, and I will miss her so.”

“Fuck no” is my gut response, but I clamp my teeth shut so the words don’t leap from my mouth.

My lycan crouches, ready to pounce and wrap his jaws around her throat and tear her limbs from her body.

The only thing that keeps me focused and grounded, that keeps me from letting my lycan have his pound of flesh, is the rattling of the chains from Sarina’s ceaseless shivering.

It’s almost over , I remind myself. We’re almost out . Attacking now would ruin everything, and protecting Sarina—no matter the cost—is the priority .

I send that reassurance and those thoughts down the bond to her. She still can’t feel it—I know she can’t—but it’s already an ingrained instinct for me to use our bond to comfort her, so I do it anyway. Just in case.

“She is no longer yours to touch.” She was never yours to touch. “My touch will be the only one she knows for a long while.” I am once again careful with my words, with my phrasing, working to keep the bite and the tension out of my voice.

“Of course.” Amara steps back slightly to show her acquiescence. “You paid handsomely for that privilege.” She gestures to the front doors and the circular driveway just beyond them. “Your business partner is waiting.”

“Thank you.”

I give her a curt nod in farewell, then I tug on Sarina’s chain as I make my way to the exit.

“Walk,” I order Sarina, ignoring the growling glare my lycan gives me and the guilt pumping through my veins with every repugnant command I give her. “Keep up with me, or I’ll make you crawl. ”

She follows with no further prompting, and Amara devours our interaction, eyeing me with a new appreciation.

I ignore Amara and walk outside, not once breaking my stride as I lead Sarina away from this place for good.