Page 65 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

Dominic waits for us beside a black SUV with tinted windows. His arms are crossed, and his fingers tap his elbow. If it wasn’t for the show we’re still putting on, I think he’d be pacing the curb.

The damp cement splashes beneath my shoes. The rain has stopped, but the scent of the storm lingers, permeating through the ground and swirling within the heavy clouds above us.

Dominic straightens as we approach, opening the back door and wisely keeping his eyes ahead, focused on something in the distance.

“Nolan and Cassandra are already back at our rental house,” he mindlinks me, his body tense and his jaw tight as he stares towards the auction building. “I figured you’d want as much privacy as possible once you got Sarina out.”

I don’t respond to him. Instead, I point at the backseat. “Sit.”

Sarina hurries in, perching on the edge of the seat, and holds as still as her shivering body will allow while she waits for me.

I slide in after her, and Dominic slams the door shut. As he gets into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, I’m already reaching into my pocket for the key Amara gave me.

“This better fucking work,” I mutter.

Sarina holds her quivering arms out, and I tap the key on the chains connected to her wrist shackles, holding my breath. For half a second, nothing happens, and I fear Amara tricked us, but I’m filled with relief as they fall to the floor of the backseat in a rattling heap .

Sarina launches herself into my arms. Her muscles tremble, and she inhales—a shuddering, sniffling breath—as she buries her face into my chest and presses her body as close to mine as she can.

“I’ve got you, Sarina,” I whisper into her ear as I tear my gloves off. “I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

I soothe her with my words and my touch, wrapping one arm around her waist and cupping the back of her head with my other hand.

She clings to me, fingers curling into the lapels of my suit jacket.

Her tears soak my clothing straight through to my skin.

I sway us side to side, repeating “I’ve got you” to her in hushed tones.

It isn’t the reunion I imagined over our years apart. The circumstances surrounding it are horrific and heartbreaking. With everything in me, I wish they were different. Better. Happy. That this night never happened. That they had never taken her. That we’d never parted.

But no matter the circumstances, we are together again. Forever this time.

The vehicle turns left, out of the driveway and onto the main road, leaving the property behind.

I meet Dominic’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Drive to our rental as fast as you can without it looking suspicious.”

He hums in affirmation, clenching his jaw. His teeth grind together as he presses his foot down harder on the gas.

“There’s a T-shirt back there for her,” he says as we wind around the lake, taking the curves at breakneck speed. “I grabbed it from your room when I dropped Nolan and Cassandra off.”

Gratitude rushes through me, along with another wave of relief.

My control over my lycan is hanging by a fraying thread. My shirt covering Sarina’s scantily clad body will help ease his tension, and mine. It’s the closest thing to a mate mark that we can give her right now.

“Do you want to wear my shirt?” I ask Sarina.

She nods and sits up so I can grab the olive-green shirt from the seat. Her tremors have slowed. Occasional shivers ripple through her body, but the constant trembling of her muscles and the chattering of her teeth are gone .

I bunch the fabric up to the neck and slip it over her head. It falls down her body and hides it from my view. She slides her arms through the sleeves and smooths the shirt over her stomach, staring down at it.

“It’s soft.” She lifts the shirt’s collar to her nose, breathing in deeply.

A frown wrinkles her forehead as she exhales.

She inhales again, taking in more air this time and holding the breath in her lungs for longer before releasing it.

Her gaze, glassy and pained, lifts to mine.

“I can’t smell it. I can’t smell your scent. ”

My throat tightens at the sorrow in her voice. I cup her cheek, glancing at her neck. “It’s because of the silver, carino .”

She blinks at me then lifts her hands, turning them front and back to examine the cuffs on her wrists.

“Do you want me to take them off?”

“I still won’t be able to feel the bond.” Her brow furrows. “They gave us wolfsbane too.”

My nostrils flare, but I bite back a growl, blocking out the noise in my mind from my raging lycan.

“If you let me remove the shackles, your body can push the wolfsbane from your system faster.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and hover my fingertips above the silver circling her neck.

“But I won’t take them off if you’re not ready for that. ”

She leans forward so our heads press together, and her nose brushes mine. “I want them off. I want to feel again.”

She holds her hands out in front of her.

I grab the key from the seat and tap first the cuffs on her wrists, then the cuffs on her ankles.

They fall to the floor of the vehicle with four soft thuds.

I reach for her neck, brushing her hair off her shoulders and down her back.

Pinching the collar between my fingers, I tap it with the key and grit my teeth against the brief bite from the silver on my skin as it clicks open.

What I feel is inconsequential compared to the continuous sting of pain Sarina must have felt while trapped in those shackles.

I toss the collar to the floor. My eyes water as I take in the narrow line of burned, raw skin around her throat.

Her chin lifts, and her eyes close as she circles and stretches her neck, shoulders rolling with the movements. A minuscule amount of tension releases from her body now that she’s free from her shackles, but all I see are her wounds .

Sarina traces her fingers across my forehead. She cups my cheeks in her hands, and her lips press kisses to my clenched eyelids. Only then do I realize I closed them in my anger, in my turmoil, trying to control my wrath-filled lycan.

“ Lo siento, carino .” I shake my head in apology and cover her hands with mine.

She says nothing in response. Letting go of my face, she lays against my chest and curls in on herself once more as her arms wrap around me.

We spend the rest of the drive that way, existing in silence in each other’s arms.

Dominic’s eyes glance at us in the rearview mirror every so often, but he doesn’t speak, granting us some privacy until he parks in the garage.

As the door rolls shut, a wave of exhaustion overtakes me. I tilt my head against the seat with a sigh, my eyes closing, the lids too heavy for me to keep open.

I can’t rest yet. We’re out of the auction house, but we’re still too close to those twisted assholes for my comfort.

I need to get her away from here. Far away from here.

The back door opens. Dominic holds it for me as I climb out with Sarina in my arms. She tightens her hold on me and continues to press her nose harder against my chest, breathing deeply and intentionally to snag a hint of my scent.

“Here.” Dominic holds the transport stone out in between us. “Rune told me to bring this, just in case.”

I tighten my grip on Sarina so I can keep her secure while the stone moves us from one place to the other. “That was lucky.”

“Everyone is waiting for us. I called to tell them we found Sarina and got her out, and we’d be bringing her back.”

“If the traffickers are watching our rental, they’ll know something isn’t right when only Nolan and Cassandra leave in the morning.”

“The SUV windows are tinted,” Dominic points out.

“But the house has—”

Dominic claps his hand on my shoulder, cutting off my protests. “There is a plan. We’re getting her out of here, and you need to let us take care of the rest so you can take care of her.”

I push all worries—other than Sarina, and her safety and well-being—to the recesses of my mind. “Thank you.”

Dominic throws the stone in the air and catches it. The world whirls around us, and we travel through the gaps in time and space from Lake Tahoe to our destination—Peter and Imogen’s home.

It’s tucked away in the mountains above our pack, protected by enchantments to keep anyone from stumbling onto the property unknowingly.

They offered their guest rooms to Dominic and Sarina’s friends, so they could keep a low profile and there would be fewer suspicions and questions from our pack members.

Peter, it seems, owed King Malachi a favor, and Imogen was thrilled to have company.

When Peter is at rehearsals, she spends much of her time alone as she adjusts to being a vampire, so playing hostess has been an enjoyable distraction for her.

I brace for shouting, questions, and exclamations from our collective pack members.

I prepare for the panic the noise is likely to awaken in Sarina, ready to whisk her away into the closest room and lock the door behind us so we can continue on our path of healing and bonding.

But the only sounds I hear are quiet footsteps moving across the marble floor of the grand foyer.

Riven paces between the two sweeping staircases that frame the entrance, his hand running through his blond hair. He stops when he sees us, then darts forward.

“Oh, thank the Goddess,” he rushes out, reaching for Sarina.

I growl, lip curling and teeth baring. I grip Sarina tighter, turning us so she’s out of his reach, before I set her on her feet and place myself between her and Riven.

Dominic squeezes my shoulder, and Riven steps away, but I don’t back down.

My growl builds, growing in volume and intensity, echoing through the foyer.

Riven’s throat bobs. His eyes and chin lower as his hands lift in surrender.

My heart pounds in my ears. The roaring, snapping lycan in my mind, sick of being restrained and shoved aside all night in order to protect our mate and our friends, pushes me to set him free. He’s been denied blood for too long, and he can’t recognize friend from foe.

Neither of us can.

I scent Riven’s fear as it grows and pumps through his veins to every cell in his body. The hand on my shoulder tightens, but I shrug it off, stepping closer to the male who dared draw close to my mate while she’s so vulnerable. He cowers, his eyes locked on the floor, and I consider him .

What would be the best way to punish him for his audacity? The best way to kill him?

Soft hands frame my face, breaking my intense predatory stare on my sniveling prey. Indescribable, earth-shattering pleasure ripples through me at the touch. Haunted brown eyes—nestled within a thinner, shadowed version of a face I’ve dreamt of countless times—meet mine.

“Come back to me, Sebastián .” Sarina’s watery gaze searches mine.

The black creeping into the edges of my vision recedes.

My canines disappear into my gums, and my claws retract back into my hands.

I was too blinded by my possessiveness to notice I released either.

Sarina’s touch and voice turn my growling, snarling beast of a lycan into a tail-wagging, simpering puppy, who rolls over onto his back in the hope she’ll give him a belly rub and a treat.

Fuck, I’m ready to do the same for her. Only a few hours with our bond in place, and I’m already as whipped as my brother and friends.

I love it.

“I’m sorry, Riven,” I say.

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Your bond is new. I shouldn’t have pounced on you like that.” He backs away towards the left side of the entrance. “Imogen set up a room for you over here.”

“Do you want to walk, or do you want me to hold you?” I ask Sarina.

My hands move to her hips. I pull her in closer, turning my face to kiss her palm as I wait for her answer.

The primal, raging beast within me would prefer I held her. It isn’t just a want. It’s a need.

We need it to satisfy our instincts to protect. We need it so we know she is safe.

She, however, needs to have a choice.

“Hold me,” she whispers. “Please.”

As I lift her into my arms again, I find another set of brown eyes.

Wesley grips the doorway leading into the living area, watching our arrival and my reaction to Riven with a crease in his brow. I nod at Wes wordlessly before I follow Riven through the opposite archway and into a hall of guest rooms.

“Sebastian,” Wesley mindlinks me. “If you need anything…”

“Thank you,” I reply. “Right now, I need to be with her.”

“I know.” Empathy weighs down his voice. “I know.”

Our connection fades, and I walk in silence. Sarina leans her head against my chest, arms hugging her body and eyes glued on Riven as he leads the way.

“King Malachi sent them to our pack to ask us for help,” I say, responding to her unspoken question.

She tilts her face up to mine, eyes widening. “So you know everything?”

“Yes. I know you actually work undercover for the royal pack. I know the reason you came to California four years ago was to investigate us, Amber Forest, and Silver Ridge, and our potential involvement in the trafficking ring.”

She stares at me as we come to a stop, and Riven opens the door for us. I enter the room.

Sarina grabs the edge of the door, stopping it before Riven can close it all the way. “Wait!”

Riven raises a brow at her.

“My family,” she breathes. “Do they know?”

Riven glances at me and then nods at her. “We contacted them to tell them Sebastian found you.”

Sarina releases the door, collapsing into my arms once more.

The door closes, leaving us truly alone together for the first time in four years.