Page 118 of The Delta's Rogue
Surrounding that shield of pain is a void. Where there once was a passionate fire that sparkled and danced and teased, there is now only endless dark. Hollow, unyielding, and stained with the resignation I felt within her during her auction, it fills every inch of her, leaving nothing untouched by it save for that diminished fragment of her soul trapped behind that chain of anguish.
She’s drained herself of everything and surrendered herself to this fate.
Her exterior reflects her interior. Her body, once all toned muscle with subtle curves along her hips and thighs, is thin and frail, weakened by the silver shackles and hertime spent as their captive. The long, thick locks flowing from her head gleam in the light, but it’s superficial, a fake shine, enhanced by magic and cosmetics. Her gorgeous medium-brown skin has lost its golden, sun-kissed luster, and through her hair, I glimpse the dark, almost black circles under her eyes and the hollowness of her cheeks that make her appear sickly and gaunt.
They did this to her, to my little rogue. They broke her, weakened her body and mind, and whittled her down until only the thinnest sliver of her spirit remained—a sliver so tiny, so fragile, that the slightest pressure would have it disintegrating until there’s nothing of it left.
I will kill them for it. Everyone who had a hand in destroying my mate’s spirit will face my wrath, and none of them will survive the experience.
She can’t feel our bond, not with the silver encircling her skin. She can’t sense me on the other end of it, but I send her everything I feel for her. Everything I’ve tucked away inside me during the years of our separation, I push it all to her.
My love, a love that’s only grown stronger despite her absence. My desperate, aching need for her. A need that’s not physical but emotional. She’s not just the love of my life. She’s a part of my soul, a piece that’s been absent for far too long.
I push that need and love to her, weaving the tendrils of it through the layers of her broken resignation, hoping that maybe—just maybe—a wisp of it will find its way to her through our blocked bond.
Confusion forms within the hollow resignation and burning anguish as the minutes pass and I remain in place, hands in midair instead of doling out a punishment for her insolence. I push harder as she processes my lack of reaction, and as I continue to send her my love, I absorb some of her pain and bitterness. Only a small amount, a fraction, but it’s enough to relieve her from the full weight of her burden.
And fuck does it hurt. I don’t want to imagine what she’s experienced for this grain of sand I take from the mountain of her misery to bring me as much pain as it does. It braids itself together with the agonizing loneliness I’ve endured without her, amplifying it and extending it. It brings tears to my eyes with its extreme potency.
She lifts her head an inch off the floor and peers at me. Her eyes meet mine and—for me, at least—the tether of ourbond strengthens.
Her eyes widen and fill with shock and disbelief. Minutes pass, or maybe years, with us locked in a staring contest, neither willing to move. Then she covers her mouth as her eyes squeeze shut.
I swallow against the painful lump in my throat, forcing myself to speak and break the silence. “Sarina.”
My voice breaks and is nothing more than a nearly inaudible rasp. But she hears it. Even with the silver cuffs and collar blocking her enhanced hearing, she hears me say her name.
Herrealname. Uttered bymyvoice.
She opens her eyes again. A flicker of hope forms within their depths. It’s minuscule and brief, but it’s there.
“¿Sebastián?”
She whispers my name as if she doesn’t believe I’m real. As if she doesn’t believe her eyes, afraid I’ll disappear into thin air, disintegrated by the volume of her voice. As if she thinks I’m a hallucination she conjured in her desperation.
Sarina sits up straighter, hands trembling. Her long hair shields her body as she holds her shoe against her chest, keeping it at the ready just in case. Her brow wrinkles with confusion, but another brief flicker of hope flashes in her eyes.
“¿Sebastián?”she repeats, louder and stronger this time, but still tinged with the hesitance of a newborn fawn.
I nod. It’s the only movement I dare make. Anything larger may send her into a renewed frenzy or have her chucking her other shoe at my face.
“It’s over.” My voice quivers beneath the weight of this moment.
The shoe falls from her hand and lands with a soft thud. She exhales with a giant, shaking sob, her palms pressing flat into the floor as all the tension releases from her body.
Her keening cries crack my resolve. I can no longer stay away from her. She needs me, and I need her.
I shrug my suit jacket off and dart to her, kneeling in front of her. Throwing the coat around her body, I pinch the lapels together then reach for her face to tuck her hair behind her ears.
But I snatch my hand back before I touch her skin. I can’t be the one to initiate contact. I refuse to force anything on her. She needs to make the first move. It needs to be her choice.
Instead, I grip the jacket tighter in my fists. “You’re safe now.” I lower my face to be level with hers while still keeping my distance. “I’ve got you.”
Her sobs quell, she straightens, and her tear-filled eyes meet mine once more. Up close, the dark circles beneath them are more prominent, drawing focus to the extreme hollowness of her face and the unnatural sharpness of her cheekbones.
She scans my face, still wary. Her arms slip into the sleeves of the coat, and I button the front so it will stay closed around her body.
Sarina reaches for me, hands emerging from the length of the sleeves. She cups my cheeks, and my eyes close at her touch.
