Page 135 of The Delta's Rogue
“Can you sense your wolf at all?”
“No, I still can’t feel her.”
I don’t bother correcting him. I know I won’t be able to hide it from him for much longer, but now isn’t the time to spill everything.
Sebastian tucks my freshly cut hair behind my ears, then cups my cheeks and lifts my face so our eyes meet. “Are you hungry? Maybe eating will help you get some strength and energy back, so your wolf will wake up.”
My stomach gives a tiny gurgle. It’s echoed by a loud, rumbling roar from his stomach, prompting my lips to twitch with a quiet laugh.
He smiles and chuckles. “I can bring food in here for us.” He pauses, and glances at the door and then back at me. “Unless you want to eat out there?” he suggests, angling his chin towards the door once again.
I follow his line of sight. “I’m allowed to leave the room?”
His nostrils flare, but he bites back his anger. His outrage. “Of course you can leave the room.”
I stare at the door. The room shrinks, closing in on me, as time passes and Sebastian waits for me to answer, to make a decision. The choice looms over me like a large cat crouched in a tree, waiting for its prey to pass beneath the branch so it can pounce.
“Sarina?” Sebastian’s voice wriggles its way into my ears like it’s coming from across a vast plain, and I switch my focus to his face, which is painted with a soft but worried expression. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” I assure him, pressing my palm flat against his chest. “I’m just not sure if I can.”
“I’ll be with you the whole time. If you need to leave and come back here, you just say the word, and I’ll bring you back.”
“Promise?”
“Always,cariño.”
My gaze slowly switches to the door. My eyes lock on it, boring into it, engaged in a one-sided staring contest with it—as if I can defeat the perceived obstacle by eye contact alone.
My throat tightens, and I scoot out of Sebastian’s lap and arms. I swing my feet over the side of the bed and set them flat on the floor before I stand on trembling legs.
The door seems further away now that I’m on my feet. My limbs fight me, and my muscles strain as I take one step towards it. I take a second step, bringing my feet level with each other again. My entire body shakes with violent tremors, and water pools in my eyes.
Everything in me rebels. Everything they ingrained in me screams at me to stop, to hold still, to fall on the floor in a crumpled heap. Imaginary fire licks at my veins—a shadow of the pain when they would use my blood against me. My brain and body wait for that pain, expect it. When it doesn’t appear, they assume it’s a trap. A trick. That the witches are giving me a false sense of security, luring me further into rebellion where they’ll hurt me even worse.
“That’s it,cariño,” Sebastian whispers from behind me. He hovers nearby, ready to intervene and be my strength if asked, but giving me space to decide for myself if I need him.
Another flicker of his love winds around my heart, as soft as a caress of velvet and as decadent as a sip of red wine.
“I can do this,” I say under my breath. My hands clench into fists, and I grit my teeth as I take another step towards the door. “I can do this.”
Each step that moves me closer to the door takes years. The distance seems unending, as if I take two steps back for every one step forward, but I make it. I make it to the door.
I wrap my hand around the knob, twist it, and pull it open.
A gasping sigh of relief heaves out of me when the door stays open, exposing an empty hallway lined with portraits of a blonde ballerina. When there isn’t an electrifying jolt of pain sent into my blood and through my body, to pin me in place and prevent me from leaving, to punish me for even attempting an escape from my prison disguised as a luxurious bedroom.
Sebastian scoops me into his arms as my legs give way underneath me, and a shuddering sob breaks my lips apart.
“I’ve got you.”
He cradles me to his chest. I curl into him, hiding my face from the world. There isn’t anyone in the hallway, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be anyone around as we travel through the house.
I pinch my lips together to keep any noises from escaping me. My throat burns with my silent cries, and my tears paint streaks down my cheeks, but I make no sound. I give no hint of my true emotional state.
“I mindlinked my brother and asked him to keep everyone away for now,” Sebastian says, assuaging my unspoken fear with his words and his soothing voice. “I didn’t want you to be overwhelmed or bombarded with questions you’re not ready to answer.”
I hug my stomach, close my eyes, and press my nose against his chest, trying to catch another whiff of his scent.
