Page 221 of The Delta's Rogue
Poor, fragile little thing. She has seen too much and lived too little. I’m tempted to take her hand, but she’s as skittish as a baby bird and may take flight at the slightest sudden movement.
She reaches a hand towards Zeus, then twists her wrist and curls her fingers in one by one. With each curl of her fingers, Zeus’s breathing deepens. His body relaxes more and more, until he’s so sound asleep not even his own thunder will wake him.
“I didn’t have to go find him. He found me,” I tell her, even though she didn’t ask for a recap. I pick my midnight blue silk robe up off of the chaise and tie the belt around it to cover my sheer dress and the disgusting, nauseating hickeys I know Zeus left on his favorite parts of my body. “I’m sorry if you heard any—”
“I put up a sound barrier as soon as we arrived. Just in case.” She takes a syringe out of her pocket. “Are you ready?”
“Are you?” I repeat her question back to her so I don’t have to give her an answer.
“No.”
She says no, but she walks forward anyway, heading straight to Zeus without a second thought. Without looking back at me. She only pauses when she reaches him. Her hand hovers over his forearm with a barely visible tremble.
“Brenna?”
“He is very old,” she remarks.
“That he is,” I confirm. “Ageless but ancient.”
“His memories will be vast and unending.”
“Can’t you touch him without experiencing his memories?”
“I don’t know. I could before, but as the battle progressed, my magic changed. And ever since, it’s been…different. Wild. Unpredictable.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m afraid of what I might see.”
“You’re strong enough to control it. I know you are.”
My belief in her seems to be enough to boost her confidence. She darts her hand forward, snatching his wrist in her grip and inserting the needle into his vein. Ichor—theblood of the gods—fills the vial. Thicker than mortal blood and as gold as the ambrosia we drink, it’s toxic to humans and will kill them on contact.
Luckily, my warriors aren’t human.
Once there is enough ichor in the vial, Brenna drops his arm like it’s a snake about to bite her. She grips the vial in her fist. Fury brews within her. It bubbles like a cauldron of water, close to spilling over the edge, but she funnels all that wrath into that tiny vial clutched in her hand.
Zeus wakes with a mighty roar. His eyes fly open, and the bed shakes beneath him with the force of his shout as he tries to throw himself from it. But he’s stuck in his reclined position, pinned in place by the blood magic Brenna uses against him.
“What is the meaning of this?” he shouts.
“I should askyouthat question,” I reply.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He strains and writhes within the unpleasant, magical hold he’s under, desperately attempting to break free.
The visible shaking of his muscles and bulging of his veins, and the way the capillaries pop within the whites of his eyes, speak to how much pain Brenna inflicts on him.
Brenna and I meet in the center at the foot of the bed, and when he sees us side by side, when he sees the vial clasped within Brenna’s fist, his confusion disappears.
“I should have realized you gave in too easily.” He laughs humorlessly. “You were always so adamant in your refusals of me. Your willingness should have been a red flag.”
I shrug one shoulder. “We all make mistakes. Lyall made plenty of them.”
If he had control of his body, I’m sure he’d raise a brow at me. “Like what?”
“The list is quite extensive, I assure you. But his biggest mistake? Attacking the pack where my daughter lives.”
“Did she survive?”
“They had sufficient time to prepare, and she was safe with me during the attack.”
“Pity.” He doesn’t attempt to deny his involvement in Lyall’s overall scheme. “Because losing two daughters to the same male?Thatwould have been an epic blow against you.”
