Page 48 of The Delta's Rogue
But I don’t back down.
They don’t know. They don’t understand.
“The memories?” Rune asks, arching a blonde brow.
“They stay.”
Her brow lifts higher.
“They. Stay.” A harsh, threatening growl threads its way through my words to her, lingering and echoing in the space between us.
Her brown eyes flash with her wolf, but she doesn’t argue with me. She instead nods at Landon, who tosses the stone in the air and catches it.
With a whoosh of air and the blink of an eye, we’re miles away. Eons away. An entire lifetime away. Or at least that’s how it feels to my heart. To my soul.
Our new campsite is near a waterfall and a stream. Rocks and pebbles dig into my bare feet as we arrive on the bank. The trees here are deciduous—oaks and willows and sycamores—a stark contrast to the evergreen redwoods of Crescent Lake and the surrounding area.
My fingers brush against my red choker. It’s tight around my neck, yet it brings me a brief moment of comfort as I trace over it.
I spin around, examining our new temporary home without seeing it, instead focused on the piece of red fabric wrapped around my throat. I untie and remove it, giving myself something to do other than think about the distance separating Sebastian and me. My fingers play with the fabric, pinching and tugging on it in front of my stomach, as I bite back my emotions.
From my periphery, I see Riven approach Rune, with clothes and other items in his arms. He hands them to her, but his ever-concerned and watchful eyes are locked on me.
“Sarina.” Rune approaches me cautiously. “Here are your supplies so you can wash off.”
I snap my head in her direction, hands curling into fists at my sides and my chest heaving. I wrinkle my nose, sneering at her.
I spit out my retort, voice tremulous and quiet but furious. “Why? You never wash the scent of Landon and Steele from your body or your cunt. Why should I wash Sebastian’s scent from mine?”
Landon snarls and bares his teeth at me, but Rune just sighs. “Landon and Steele are my mates.”
I growl and tense all my muscles so I don’t lunge at her and wrap my clawed fingers around her throat. “¡Y Sebastián es mi vida!”
They all freeze and stareat me as a lone tear streaks down my cheek.
I swipe at it and lift my eyes skyward, blinking at the cloudless dawn sky. “He is my life,” I say again in a whisper.
Riven tiptoes forward and reaches for me tentatively.
I raise my hands in defense, darting away from him. “Don’t!”
He sighs. “Sarina…”
“¡No me toques!” I shriek, stumbling backwards, the pebbles skittering across the ground under my unsteady feet. “Don’t touch me,” I repeat, trembling as I continue to put distance between us. “His scent—Sebastian’s scent. If you touch me…” I pull my quivering lower lip between my teeth.
“You have to wash his scent off, Sarina.” Riven stops trying to approach me, but I don’t stop my retreat. “We can’t carry any traces of where we’ve been or the people we’ve been with. Those are the rules. You know this.”
“I can’t…” My head shakes faster and faster with every passing second, my backwards footsteps matching its pace. “No puedo…”
“I know you don’t want to”—Rune’s voice is soft, her eyes shining with empathy and understanding—“but how would you feel if someone tracked his scent back to him? Or if something happened to him because you led them to him?”
Her words are a punch to the gut. They’re weights on my ankles, dragging me down to reality.
My knees give out, and I drop to the ground, the pebbles and rocks cutting through my skin so my blood spills on their smooth, untarnished surfaces. I scream, embracing the pain in my shins and knees, using it to distract myself from the soul-wrenching anguish twisting through the very essence of my being. Silent sobs wrack my body, and I curl forward over my legs, wrapping my arms around my stomach as the pain pours out of my eyes.
The others stare at me, and I sense them leave, one by one, until only Rune remains. She inches forward and sets the clean clothes, the towel, and the soap on a large rock by the waterfall before she leaves too.
Once I’m alone, I roll onto my side and hug my knees to my chest. The hair falling into my face shields my sorrow from the rest of the world. Not that there’s anyone here to witness it.
