Page 217 of The Delta's Rogue
“Do you have any more lightning bolts?” she asks.
“No. I used them both,” Lyall confesses through his teeth.
Sarina jerks her chin towards the bolt he threw at Dominic. “Pick it up.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath from Lyall. “What?”
“Pick up the lightning bolt,” Sarina repeats.
“Only an immortal can touch it without harm.”
“I know.”
Any ounce of amusement or humor left on Sarina’s face, and in her demeanor, vanishes. Her voice vibrates deep in her throat, tinged with the low growl of her lycan. She takes three slow, prowling steps forward. Her eyes flash gold, her aura turns brutal, and she zeroes all of it in on Lyall.
“Pick. It. Up. And stab yourself with it. Right in the heart.”
Lyall’s muscles violently shake as he fights against Sarina’s command. But there is no resisting her. She is a force to be reckoned with. She is a sword of vengeance and justice.
A true queen.
Lyall rises to his feet and moves across the grounds robotically. The bolt crackles and sizzles in the dirt next to the log. Lyall folds himself in half. His arm tenses as it reaches for the bolt. There is a pause as his hand uncurls from its fist and his fingers extend. He stares at the bolt, veins popping beneath his skin and within the whites of his eyes as he tries with all his might to fight Sarina’s alpha command.
Sarina growls, and Lyall’s body jerks into motion once more. The tips of his fingers brush the bolt. Electricity twines around his digits. It crawls and leaps up his arm as he wraps his hand around it. An agonizing noise of pain rips through him. The bolt pulses, and the cracks of lightning echo across all of Crescent Lake. His body jolts and contorts with each strike. His arm moves towards his chest, kept on its path by the command Sarina issued—the command he can’t fight off even as he electrocutes himself with the weapon in his hand.
Lyall collapses to the ground with another shout of pain. The pungent scent of singed flesh, blood, and excretions wafts towards us as he writhes on the ground, his hand trying to plunge the bolt into his heart.
Beneath the cracks, the thunder, and Lyall’s screams, his heartbeat slows. From a racing gallop to a leisurely stroll to a struggling climb up a vertical hill, the pace diminishes.
And then it stops.
His arm collapses, and the bolt falls to the ground beside him.
Sarina’s shoulders slump, but she doesn’t pull her focus from Lyall. I wrap my arms around her from behind. Her hands grip my wrists, and she takes several deep breaths while I hold her.
“Brenna,” she mutters, craning her neck to see her. “Is she—”
“Micah has her,” I reassure her. “Focus onyourself please.”
Her cheek falls against my chest. “I should say the same to you.” She strokes my arm. Her lashes lift as she gazes up at me. Myriad emotions swim in her deep brown eyes, all of them meant for me.
I shake my head and push the lump in my throat down. “We’re not finished here. We have a job to do.”
“Your family needs you.”
“Seb.” Maddie’s voice overlaps Sarina’s.
Maddie stands behind us, looking so small, broken, and too young for the horrors she just experienced.
“Seb…” she croaks again, and as soon as I release Sarina from my arms, Maddie slams into me, sobbing into my shoulder.
It hits me then. All of it.
The pain, the exhaustion, the loss.
I rest my chin on Maddie’s head, and I let it all drag me under. It blurs my vision and wraps around my throat. It wrenches out of me in silent, heaving sobs. Another body rams into me, and my silent tears turn into embarrassing, sloppy sniffles as Wesley embraces both of us.
We hug for several minutes, and as we do, Sarina caresses my back. Small sniffles drift to my ears from her nose, and through the bond, I feel all the emotions I saw in her eyes: anguish, resolve, anger, relief, love. None outweighs the other. All are an echo of the emotions rolling through me.
