Page 209 of The Delta's Rogue
Sarinaisstrong. He’s not wrong about that. But all I can think about is how this experience may erase every bit of healing, every huge stride forward.
“Have you found where she’s hiding?”I ask.
“Not yet.”
“Well, keep looking. She can’t be far.”
My mind goes silent again. Or as silent as it can be because even without my friends’ voices in my head, my mind is filled with racing thoughts. Not to mention the slapping of my feet against the ground, the pounding of my heart, the blood whooshing against my eardrums, and my breaths rattling my lungs.
Beneath it all, I hear Sarina’s gasping sobs and quivering breaths. It twists my stomach into knots. My throat burns from both my sprinting and from the heartbreaking anguish barreling to me from Sarina’s end of the bond.
I swallow against the lump and blink back tears as I push harder and run faster. Angling my body to slip between two bushes at the edge of the forest near the lake, I run straight up the side of the mountain to double back at a higher altitude.
“Sarina,”I whisper into her mind.“I—”
Metal so cold that it burns wraps itself around my neck before I can finish sending my thoughts of encouragement her way.
My gut reaction is to yank at the metal choking my neck, to tear it away so the sting of the silver doesn’t singe my skin, but it’s clamped on tight. A split second after I grab it, cuffs attach themselves to my ankles and wrists.
I slam against the ground as chains wrench my arms and my legs back. They twine together, and my cheek scrapes through the dirt, my back arching with the force of them latching to the metal collar.
The chains rattle and clank as I’m dragged across the forest floor. I twist my head up and back.
Sarina holds the chains. Her body heaves with each tug. Her lips tremble, and mud lines her face from the dirt clinging to her tears. The chains she holds are stained with blood—Nuncio’s blood.
The shackles and chains on me are the ones we used on Nuncio.
The debris on the ground and the branches of the bushes scrape and scratch my skin as I’m pulled out of the forest and down onto the lakeshore. But the pain from the cuts is nothing compared to the sizzling of the silver on my skin or the anguish in my soul.
“W-why are you doing this?” I ask Amara. “We’ve d-decimated your forces. Just— just give up. We’ve won.”
The skin rubbing against the collar stings with each syllable I utter, and I grimace and gasp throughout my question, tripping over the words each time my throat presses against the metal.
I don’t know how Sarina went so long with these on her body when I can barely handle a few minutes.
“Maybe.” Amara’s reply is cold and detached. “But your death will forever taint this win for your pack. All they will remember is your mate turning on you and tearing out your heart while they looked on with no way to stop her or save you.”
Muffled shouting comes from both sides of the beach, where Wesley, Reid, and Nolan fight against an invisible barrier keeping everyone away from us.
I hold Sarina’s distressed gaze for the rest of our journey out onto the wide-open shore, and with my eyes, I reassure her.
“This isn’t your fault,”I think, hoping with everything in me that she sees in my eyes the words I can’t say out loud or tell her through the bond.“This isn’t your fault, and you can’t blame yourself. Don’t let this set your healing back. Be the fierce queen I know you are and come out of this with your head held high.”
The chains drop to the ground, and Sarina sobs. I yank at the restraints, but the magic keeping them in place is too strong, leaving me utterly helpless.
Sarina trembles violently as she fights against Amara’s control. Her head shakes subtly from side to side, but she crouches and her hands lift, her extended claws shining in the starlight.
“It’s okay.”I continue my mental reassurances, even though I know she can’t hear me.“I forgive you,cariño. You may never forgive yourself, but I do.”
The stars blink in slow motion. Sarina lands on top of me. Her hands fly, swiping over my body—down my arms, over my neck, and across my chest. Her claws scrape across my skin, leaving behind shallow scratches. None are deep enough to do any real damage, but all of them sting as the blood rises to the surface and meets the air.
Alone, the singular scratches would be like a paper cut—annoying and painful, and gone within a few minutes—but as she continues her attack, as she slices open more of my skin, the pain grows and grows until it matches the ache in my soul and the singeing from the silver shackles.
I’ve never felt a pain close to this. Not even the morning I woke up to Sarina gone was as painful or heartbreaking as this—watching her fight against Amara’s control, tracking the unrestrained tears that stream down her cheeks, witnessing the absolute devastation in her eyes as she attacks me so brutally.
As she’s forced to kill me.
With each strike, the light fades. Tears that match Sarina’s fall from my eyes, and I don’t try to fight back. It’s pointless. Amara has us right where she wants us.
