Page 123 of The Delta's Rogue
I force myself to move, helping her into the ruffled bra and underwear, and I hate every second of it.
Bile rises in my throat as I slide the cheeky panties up her legs and over her hips. My blood boils as I hook the bra together between her shoulder blades, melting away the ice-cold rage. Tears prick my eyes as I circle around her front again, bringing her hair overher shoulders to cover more of her chest from view. The bra has no cups, just little ruffles covering her nipples, and I hope the weight of her long, thick hair will prevent them from flying up and exposing them as she walks. My fists clench and unclench as I spin away from her and gather up her shoes.
In another life, I would have dressed her in an outfit like this and paraded her around my club without a second thought. Now, I want to tear my throat out for contributing to the degradation she’s endured in this horrid place.
I kneel beneath her, placing the shoes in front of her feet. Grabbing my suit jacket from the floor, I yank it back onto my body before I straighten and offer her my hand. She slips hers into it, applying just enough pressure to keep her balance as she steps into her shoes.
Once she’s dressed, we stare at ourselves in the full-length mirror. With her in frilly lingerie and me in a full suit, with no trace of the cut she gave me with her shoe, we look every bit the part of a Dom and his sweet sub. Her heart pounds as her chest heaves. Her nerves spike and trickle down the bond to me as I lead her to the door and use my key to open it again for Brenna.
“Are you ready?” Brenna steps inside.
Her eyes are on Sarina, but Sarina’s are glued to Brenna’s hand clutching two small vials filled with a dark red liquid.
Sarina shakes her head and backs up a step, angling towards me as she does. “No.” Her hair flies with the insistent movements of her head. “Please, Brenna,” she begs. “I can’t.”
“I’m not going to use it on you. No one ever will again.” Brenna holds the vials out to me. “I have to give them to Sebastian.”
Sarina’s panic ebbs as her unblinking eyes track as the glass containers change ownership from Brenna to me.
I frown as I bring them closer, still unsure what they are or what they represent. Then it hits me.
Sarina’s scent. The scent of her blood.
It’s Sarina’sbloodin the vials.
My nostrils flare. “What the fuck is this for?”
“To control us. To train us.”
I snap my focus to Sarina. She still stares at those seemingly innocuous vials I hold, her body leaning away from them like an abused animal leans away from a raised hand. My lycan roars, his dark powerful aura pulsing through the room.
“Blood magic?” My lycan’s growls give an edge to my voice as I whirl my head towards Brenna. “You use blood magic on them?”
“While they’re with us, yes.” Disdain tints Brenna’s voice. “Once they’re auctioned, we give their blood to their purchaser to signify the transfer of ownership and control.”
“That’s…” I curl my fist around the vials, unable to put into words the level of disgust and rage stirring within me at this revelation. I take several deep breaths, calming my lycan and refocusing on the present—on getting Sarina out of here and keeping my ruse believable.
“Thank you for not using this on her now,” I say to Brenna once I’ve regained my composure and my control over my lycan. “But she can’t walk out there without some sort of guide or lead. She can’t just hold my hand or walk behind me. They won’t buy that.”
Brenna nods. “There are usually chains in the closets. They will connect to her cuffs.”
She skirts around us and I follow her path with my eyes, my hand tightening around the vials.
“How will I get them off?”
“Amara will give you a key before you leave.”
I grit my teeth and shove the blood vials into my pocket so I can destroy them later. Then I face Sarina, pulling her closer to me with our connected hands.
“It’s not real, okay?” I lift her knuckles to my lips as I hear the chains rattling behind me. “It’s just pretend. Just until we get in the car. I promise.”
Sarina’s breathing comes faster, as Brenna approaches us with the chains, until she’s close to hyperventilating. Her hands tremble as she tightens her hold on me, and I hate myself for asking this of her almost as much as I hate these bastards for breaking her.
Brenna reaches for her, and Sarina jumps away from her.
“No!” She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face in my chest. “I said ‘lemon’. It’s supposed to be over.”
Her words are muffled by my clothes, but that doesn’t disguise the shrillness in her voice. It doesn’t hide the sobs or the fearful, distraught shaking of her body.
