Page 89 of The Delta's Rogue
The room blurs and spins, but I lift my arms and slide them through the flimsy straps, my body on autopilot as she clothes me.
“I don’t understand exactly how it works,” she continues as she tightens the corset lacings on the back of the bodice, “but now that you’ve been scheduled for an auction this month, time will move normally for you again.”
I push my hands against my stomach to staunch the nausea bubbling there, to quell the gut-wrenching sob forming from within the depths of my soul. One hand covers the other and squeezes, so my mind focuses on something besides the rising panic and anxiety.
Brenna adjusts the skirt of the outfit, straightening it and smoothing out the ruffle that barely hides the bottom of my ass cheeks. “Amara wanted to put you on the roster for May seventh, but I convinced her to give you another week. I convinced her it was the best choice, so you can be as close to perfect as possible and she’ll get as much money as she can out of your sale.” She circles to the front, still smoothing minuscule wrinkles out of the skirt. “That way, your people have more time to concoct a plan to rescue you.”
The emotions I worked so hard to hold back burst from me in a loud, sputtering sob. I’ve held all of it in during the weeks of my training, pushing it aside so all I experienced was a trickle—like the dripping of a leaky sink—but I can’t keep it in any longer.
My trembling hand flies to my mouth as wave after wave of tears escapes me, and Brenna’s focus lifts to my face, her optimism falling to the wayside. My weakened legs can no longer hold me upright, and she catches me in her embrace as I collapse, lowering us so we both sit on the edge of the fancy pedestal.
“Sarina?” she whispers, holding my quivering body in her arms as I cry. My tears and snot soak and stain the black velvet of her dress. “What’s wrong?”
“Days.” I strain my neck through the tightening of my throat and grit my teeth at a rare shock of pain from the silver collar. I’m mostly numb to the icy pain of the silver after wearing the shackles for so long, but every once in a while, the metal brushes against untarnished skin and that excruciating sensation jolts through me again. “Solo han pasado unos días…”
It’s only beendays.
She hugs me tighter, her hands stroking my back. “Isn’t it better this way?”
“Better?”
“Isn’t it better that they haven’t endured your absence for that long?”
I sit straight and glare at her through my tear-soaked eyelashes, hand slamming against my chest. “What about what I’ve endured?” I growl, lip curling. “What about what I’ve been through? The misery, the manipulation, the abuse? No matter how short it’s been for them, it doesn’t change how long it’s been for me. How can I heal from that? How can any of them understand the extent of everything I’ve been through when they thinkI’ve been gone for only a few days?” I close my hands into fists and clench my eyes shut, shaking my head as a fresh, stormy, funnel cloud of sobs forms in my chest. “How can I face them after everything I’ve done?”
She takes my hand in both of hers and scoots closer to me until our knees and foreheads touch. “They will understand that you did what you had to do. That you did it to save yourself. And they will help you heal.Hewill help you heal.”
My heart plummets to my feet, and I curl tighter into myself, but Brenna doesn’t let me pull away.
“¿Y si ya no me quiere?” I verbalize my true fear, almost incapable of getting the words out. “What if he doesn’t want me? How could he possibly still want me?”
“Because he loves you.”
“He never said—”
“Just because he never said the words to you, it doesn’t mean it’s untrue. You forget—I’ve seen your memories. I saw the way he looked at you, and I heard the words he said to you.” Her gaze lowers to my ribs.
I move my hand there, tracing over the invisible lines of the tattoos that her magic hides from sight.
“There’s more than one way to say ‘I love you’.” She watches my fingers as they rewrite the words that have brought me peace so many times over the last four years.
A tiny piece of me knows she’s right. He never told me, but I felt his love in my soul. It grew deeper and stronger every time we were together. It rippled and soared across the galaxy between us during the days we were apart.
“He loves you, Sarina.” She lifts her eyes to meet mine again. “I know he does. Which is why we’re going to contact him tonight, so we can tell him the date of your auction.”
“¿Esta noche?”
“Yes. Tonight.”
I lean forward and squeeze her hand tighter, my heart floating up from my feet and racing faster than the speed of light. “How?”
“I can connect the two of you in a dream.”
That spark of hope flares to life inside me again. It’s brief, a distant star in an endless sky of pure night. It’s buried by my fear of how he’ll react—of what he’ll think of me, of whether he’ll still want me—but it’s there.
“You mean…”
Brenna smiles at me. “You’ll get to see him.”
