Page 114 of The Delta's Rogue
The others talk behind me about what we should do, what our options are, but their words are white noise, just another part of the storm tearing through the sky and destroying the lake. Besides, their discussion is pointless. Our orders from King Malachi when we told him of our plan for tonight were clear.
Don’t engage. Don’t attack. Don’t fight. Observe only.
“The bidding for Anaís will start at fifty thousand dollars,” the auctioneer says.
I blow out my breath and curl my hand into a fist, slamming it against the glass in time with the crackling thunder rattling the estate. The bidding begins faster than any auction before hers. The price climbs in one-thousand-dollar increments. It’s almost too fast for the auctioneer to keep up with. The robotic voices overlap, each bid coming in before the previous bidder finishes speaking.
My head spins.
Sarina trembles on the stage as the price rises higher and higher. She keeps her chin lifted, but I see the fear and panic within her, shining in her eyes and vibrating through her body.
And I can feel it. Her. Ifeelall of her like she’s an extension of me, a hidden part of me that was only now unlocked. Rolling through me like cresting waves on the sea, her tumultuous emotions flood me, leaving no doubt in my mind of her current state.
She’s terrified. And broken.
My lycan howls, long and mournful, more present in my mind than he’s ever been, brokenhearted by the desolation we feel tumbling towards us from our mate. Ourpain—his, hers, and mine—mixes until I can no longer tell whose it is. It’s sharp and heavy, and tastes of bitter resignation.
That’sfrom her. That I can tell, at least.
Fuck. I need to get her out.
“Sebastian?” Brenna’s hand tentatively rests on my trembling forearm.
I shove away from the window and run to the back of the room, grabbing the device they gave us when we arrived to use for bidding—the device I had no intention of using until I saw Sarina led onto that stage like a sacrifice for a bloodthirsty crowd. I lift it to my mouth and turn it on, speaking into it before any of the others can stop me.
“Five hundred thousand dollars.”
King Malachi ordered us not to engage. He ordered us not to fight. But he gave no orders against bidding.
Dominic grabs my shoulder and spins me to face him. “Sebastian, we’re supposed to keep a low—”
“She’smine.” My voice mixes with my lycan’s growl, and a tendril of my aura escapes, winding its way around the room. I take a step closer to Dominic and hold my ground. “She’s mymate,”I clarify, squaring my shoulders and drawing myself up to my full height.
Dominic blinks at me. Then he dips his chin and takes a step backwards, keeping his eyes downcast.
“She’s my mate”—I return my focus to the auction, my bidding device at the ready—“and I’m getting her out of here tonight, no matter how much money I have to pay to do it.”
I kneel at theedge of the stage. The two females assisting the auctioneer guided me there, but I’m kept in place by the blood magic hold the blonde witch has on me. I sit with my hands clasped behind my back and knees parted. My back arches, thrusting my breasts forward, and my pussy is visible to most everyone in the audience. I’m the picture-perfect sub.
Except for my eyes.
The magical hold on me from the blood magic is potent, but with the witch’s attention split on various parts of my body, I’m able to resist the manipulation of my head.
I lift my chin, holding it several inches higher than I should, higher than what Amara trained all of us to do, and stare straight out towards the audience.
I can’t see anyone out there. The lights are too bright, making it impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the stage. But I stare anyway, keeping my eyes focused and in one place.
It’s a small act of rebellion, but I cling to it, focusing on that instead of the terror and brokenness inside me. My urgent mental recitation of my safe word ends, replaced by this final piece of stubbornness they couldn’t tame out of me—a piece I dredge up from the infinite darkness within me.
“The bidding for Anaís will start at fifty thousand dollars,” the auctioneer says.
The crowd bursts into action. Bids flood in as soon as he finishes his sentence, and he rattles them off as they come, almost unable to keep pace with them as they overlap with each other. Each amount is one thousand dollars more than the previous bid.
Mechanical voices swirl around me, gnawing at me with their strange, distorted tones. Higher and higher the number goes. With each bid, the defiance I cling to fades until there’s none of it left.
I quiver, muscles aching from the pose I’m in. But I keep my chin up and eyes forward even as the terrified brokenness within me rises like the ocean’s tide. With each wave, it grows stronger. The frigid waters of it pool in the emptiness my defiance left behind, threatening to drown me, to drag me to the deepest trench of my fractured soul.
I might let it. Resigning myself to this fate may be my only option.
