Page 83 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

“You want to come on a run with me?” I ask, trying to hide my skepticism. “Are you sure you don’t want to spend time with your parents?”

She shakes her head emphatically. “I want to spend time with you. I want to see your lycan. It might…”

“It might what?”

“Maybe if I see your lycan, it will encourage mine to wake up.”

“My lycan is fast.”

“You’re strong,” she retorts, jabbing my upper arm. “You can carry me.”

My lycan and I both perk up at that. “You want me to carry you?”

“Your lycan, yes.”

I stare at her as I imagine the picture she’s painting: her in my lycan’s arms as we run through the forest. Safe and close to my side, with the wind streaming through her hair and her face tucked into my chest while we strengthen our bond.

My lycan’s tail wags, and he hops from one foot to the other impatiently, pawing at the confines of my mind to get me to do as she asks.

“You two go,” King Malachi says. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

Sarina hops off my lap. “Thank you, Dad.”

She stands next to the chair, waiting for me to get up. She stays in one place, but she bounces on the balls of her feet, her excitement barely containable.

I smile at her enthusiasm, at her delight with something as simple as a run through the woods .

As I take Sarina’s hand and lead her outside, joy leaks into me, both through the bond and from seeing her so carefree and unencumbered by the weight of her recent trauma.

All thoughts of the unknown amount of time she spent locked in shackles while she waited for us to find her leave her mind, and her focus is only on our little field trip.

Taking advantage of her good mood and her playfulness, I back her up against the deck railing and cage her in with my hands on the wood.

Her heart flutters in her chest, but there are no nerves or hesitation in her eyes or in the bond.

A flirtatious smile lights up her eyes, awakening that primal, dominant side in me—the side that wants to tease and claim.

“Do you know how to get to Crescent Lake from here?” I trace one finger along her jaw.

She frowns slightly. “Yes. But my body is in no shape to—”

“I’m not asking you to run the entire way there.” My lips dip down to that soft spot just below her ear, and I place a small kiss there. “I’m just giving you a head start.”

Her breath hitches. “You want to chase me?”

“I want to chase you.”

She arches into me as I kiss her again. And again. The fourth time my mouth touches her neck, I nip at the skin with my teeth. Her eyes close, and a small moan escapes her as I scrape my teeth up to her ear again.

“Run, my queen.”

Sarina spins and scrambles over the deck railing. She hops down to the forest floor and peels my hoodie over her head, which leaves her in only her leggings and my T-shirt.

The hoodie plops to the ground. Her feet carry her towards the tree line, and she glances back at me every few steps she takes, that smug, teasing half-smile on her lips.

The carefree flirtatiousness she displays lights a fire in me.

I want to capture the essence of this moment, of the weightlessness I feel as I witness her playful side emerging from the shadows of her trauma.

She can’t feel our bond, but she unknowingly sends all of her excitement and love down it to me, filling me with the same joy.

I watch her until she’s a dot in the distance, then I vault over the railing and take off after her. As soon as I hit the treeline, I shift into my lycan, ripping my clothing to shreds with the change.

I don’t mind. I know there is clothing stashed near where I’m taking us .

My lycan lets out a roaring howl to let Sarina know we’ve shifted and we’re on her trail.

Echoing laughter bounces off the red tree trunks and rustles through the green pine needles.

My snout twitches in the air every few steps to check for her scent, which lingers on every tree as if she brushed her fingertips across the trunks, and my lycan picks up the pace with each turn we make.

The animalistic part of me awakens more the further we venture into the forest, into the areas where the trees grow closer together and the sun doesn’t reach the forest floor. The chase we’ve initiated thrills me and pleases my beast.

Chases like this are an integral part of most mate bonds. Not only sexually—although many times a chase ends with mating—but also as a way to bond and to convey trust and respect.

Our chase today is not at all sexual. Both my lycan and I are in sync with this. We just want to catch Sarina and keep her. Mating and marking will come later, when she’s ready. When she’s healed. For now, our focus is bringing her back to life and filling her heart with light and joy.

And accepting any kisses she deigns to bestow upon me.

I pick up my pace. Her scent draws nearer, and her feet slip and rustle the underbrush of the forest. Sarina’s pace slows, but her laughter and her even breathing tell me it’s intentional.

She’s not tiring. She just wants me to catch her.

That’s fine by me. If she’s in my arms, she’s close to my chest. If she’s in my arms, I know she’s safe.

I reach her in ten seconds and scoop her up, careful to keep my claws pointed away from her. She squeals in fake protestation, kicking her feet as she laughs, before she wraps her arms around my lycan’s neck and tucks her face against his fur-covered chest.

I swear the giant, violent beast purrs. Fucking purrs like a cat being scratched under its chin.

Sarina’s eyes close, and she breathes through her nose. I send love through the bond to her as she absorbs the power from my lycan, and the warmth and peace from the forest. She soaks it all in, focusing it all on the part of her soul that connects her to her lycan.

I pick up the pace again, using every ounce of strength within me—strength made more potent by being Sarina’s mate—to run faster than I ever have.

My aura rolls from me in waves so Sarina can pull it into herself and try to draw her lycan out of hibernation.

My strength, my power, and my aura—all of it is hers too.

Animals scurry, dart, and fly away as my lycan tears through their otherwise peaceful home with our power rippling through us, but even they sense that I’m not here to hunt.

The only ones I want to harm are the ones who hunted down and harmed my mate and all the other females like her.

They will face the full force of my wrath, and they will learn what happens to anyone who hurts what’s mine.

Their fate will serve as a warning to any who may pick up their mantle after I’ve disposed of them.

We reach our destination, and I slow my steps. Sarina opens her eyes at my decreased pace. Her dark brown eyes widen as I set her on her feet at the edge of the clearing—Sarina’s clearing. The one where we met, kind of, and the one where we said goodbye to each other.

It’s empty now. All traces of their stay here have been worn away by the years and the meticulous way they erased their existence from the area before leaving.

She tiptoes forward, her focus completely on the empty clearing. She gazes at every tree circling the area, and her eyes linger on the spot where her tent used to be—like mine have done so many times over the years.

I leave her to reminisce, backing away towards a tree on the west edge where there is a stash of clothing.

I shift back to human form as I reach into the hole.

My neck and shoulders roll and crack as I shake the shift off, relieving my muscles of the slight tension from carrying Sarina while running.

I’m not tired or sore—not like I was yesterday—but carrying her placed my arms in a position that isn’t ideal for running.

I dress quickly and jog back to the clearing, ready to join my mate. Ready to wrap my arms around her and bury my nose in her sweet, floral and fruit-scented hair.

When I reach the clearing, Sarina is gone.

“Sarina?!” I spin in place and scan the uneven treeline for any trace of her. “SARINA!”

I yell again when I can’t find her glinting, mischievous eyes, or the shimmer of her dark tawny skin. My heart leaps into my throat, bringing the hottest, most acidic bile from my stomach with it.

I’ve lost her. Once again, I’ve lost her .

How could I lose her? She was right there, a few feet away from me, and I turned my back for no more than a minute. We weren’t followed. There is no one around for miles.

I continue spinning, focusing on her scent instead of on trying to catch a glimpse of her.

Before I can track the direction, I’m tackled to the ground and pinned flat on my back. Sarina straddles me, her hands gripping my throat and a gleam of pride in her eyes at catching me off guard.

“I took you out again, Pretty Boy.” She smirks, her mouth an inch above mine.

I shut my eyes, and sigh in relief.

Her heavy breaths fan across my lips with each of her exhales. My hands settle on her hips, my lycan desperate for contact with her body.

I can’t help but laugh at the playfulness and the memories her surprise attack brings. “You had a knife last time.” My chin lifts so my lips brush hers with every word.

“Yet even without it, I caught you by surprise and took you down without breaking a sweat.”

“You’ve always been strong,” I muse, stroking her sides. “My perfect match in so many ways. Strong, brave, clever…”

Her throat tightens, and her lips tremble as water lines her lids. She drops her head to my chest. Tears splatter across my skin, and she sputters out a soft sob as her full weight collapses onto me.

I roll us onto our sides, and she curls into a ball next to me as I wrap her in my arms. The tears continue, growing stronger with every unsteady breath she forces into her lungs. I keep her tight in my embrace, though, never pushing her to divulge the reason for her sudden shift in demeanor.