Page 147 of The Delta's Rogue
“I know,” I reply.
I watched Sebastian as he circled the house. I kept track of every time he passed within my line of sight until I lost count. The feathers of his emotions, like the wings of a dove, brushed against the wall of fog trapping our bond, my senses, and my lycan. He didn’t block them, and if that wall dissipated, if it wasn’t there, his emotions would rock my soul with the intensity of a volcanic eruption. They’d bend me in half like a wind blowing a palm tree in a torrential rainstorm.
“He went into the kitchen,” my dad informs me.
I face the forest again and nod. My hands slip inside the sleeves of my dad’s navy-blue zip-up hoodie as his footsteps venture closer to me. I lower my head to stare at the emblem embroidered on the sleeve in gold thread. The emblem he has tattooed on his chest right over his heart and embroidered somewhere on every item of clothing he owns. The emblem that will someday find its way onto all of my clothing.
Our emblem. Our family crest.
A shield with a lycan on its hind legs staring up at three stars and the moon cycle.
The Goodrich coat of arms. The symbol of the royal family, of the monarch.
The inevitability of that transfer of power seems more terrifying now than it ever has.
“Sarina?” Dad leans against the railing with me, body angled towards mine and his massive, tattooed arms folded on the wood. He stays at least a foot away—close enough to reach for my hand or my shoulder to comfort me, but far enough away to give me my space, as he has since I ventured out here after Sebastian stormed off.
“I’m okay.” My voice shakes and cracks.
There’s no way he believes me, but he faces the forest too, staring out at the wildlife and the scenery.
My dad just…stands with me.
He sat out here with me as I watched Sebastian. He said nothing to me, not until he told me Sebastian was back inside the house. My dad’s silence and presence comfort me, and yet at the same time, they add to my distress.
I can’t bring myself to face him.
I don’t want to face any of them.
None of them can possibly understand the choices I had to make to save myself. Except maybe Sebastian.
“He’ll come around,” my dad says, somehow knowing exactly who I’m thinking about.
Then again, who else would I be thinking about right now? It’s not like he didn’t have some semblance of an idea of what Sebastian was to me.
I shrug one shoulder. “He’s pretty upset.”
Upset. Understatement of the year.
I can’t blame him.
“I should have pulled your team four years ago.”
I whip my head towards my dad. His attention is locked on my neck, on the scarring that wraps around it.
Those scars will never fade. They’ll be a constant reminder of everything I went through, of all I endured.
“Dad—”
“If I’d brought you home, none of this would have happened.”
“If you’d brought me home, we wouldn’t have the leads we have now.”
“Those leads aren’t worth what they cost you! They’re not worth what they almost cost me.” Tears line his lids, and his voice breaks with his words, both bringing fresh tears to my eyes as well. “What happened?” he asks. “How did they get you?”
I scratch at my nose. My dad’s soft hoodie holds hints of his familiar scent and the scents of home: the ocean, the sunset, and the palm trees, of my mom, and even Micah.
The tears pool faster. “We tried to set a trap, but they set one too. I was bait and—” I bite my lip and shake my head, focusing on reporting the facts as if this is just a regular debriefing. “The drinks at the club were poured with a heavy hand. I ran as fast as I could, but there were too many of them. They were faster and stronger, and they drugged me. I—” I stare out at the trees and away from him as I spit out the rest of my words. “It’s my fault. I miscalculated. I messed up.”
