Page 62 of The Delta's Rogue
“Who?” I lean forward. My voice is quiet, icy, and deadly. “Who went missing?”
My lycan growls in my mind, crouching into a defensive stance. Both of us are already sure of the answer before we even hear it.
Dominic’s voice sounds as if it’s coming through a tunnel as he answers my question. “Her name is Sarina.”
Her name is Sarina.
Her name is Sarina.
Sarina. Sarina. Sarina.
The others talk around me, but I hear none of what they’re saying. Their voices ping off my eardrums, drowned out by the echo of her name in my mind and my soul.
“How?” I ask.
Dominic stops mid sentence and angles towards me. His eyes flick towards Wes, whom he’d been speaking to before I interrupted.
“How?” I repeat when he doesn’t answer me. My voice is louder, my tone uncompromising with a growl leaking into it.
Wes leans forward in his chair, brow furrowing. “Seb—”
“How?” I yell, ignoring Wes.
I rise to my feet. The chair topples to the floor behind me from my momentum. The others in the room flinch at my sudden outburst, but I barely register their reactions. My primary focus is Sarina. It’s on finding out what happened.
My hands press into the top of the table as I lean against it and demand answers from Dominic. “How did she go missing? What do you mean by missing?”
“We—they—have been hunting down a group for the king for a while now. Their intel led them here a few years ago. They knew one of our three packs was involved with this group, but they weren’t sure which one or how. When Wesley took out Alpha Benjamin’s dad, they figured out it was him.”
I close my eyes and drop my chin to my chest. My mind is racing, running, sprinting through my memories.
My little rogue curled up in my lap as she told me their intel led them here. My little rogue tensing and listening carefully when Forrest mentioned Lennox—Pierce’s bastard son—wanting to use the club as a front for something darker, something illegal. Pierce ranting and raving about the drug he’d created to amplify alpha abilities, one he was sure he could perfect by using Haven’s blood. A drug he’d already been working to distribute before we took him down.
There was a warehouse or something, and money he was receiving as payment for a “holding area”.
I straighten, hands moving to my hips as I pace back and forth next to the table. “What does this group do? Traffic drugs? Like the one Pierce was developing?” I tread the space between Nolan’s and Dominic’s chairs.
The pieces fall into place as my memories settle, but they don’t quite match up. There’s something missing, some bigger picture I’m not seeing.
Dominic’s wary eyes track my agitated pacing. “They traffic females.”
That’s it. That’s the piece I didn’t have—the information that completes the puzzle, the key that unlocks the cipher. But while it gives me answers, it doesn’t provide me with any relief. It doesn’t ease my mind.
And his next words… They’re a punch to my gut. A dagger to my soul.
“We haven’t heard from Sarina since last night. We think…we think they took her.”
Searing pain explodes from my heart, shards of red-hot metal floating within my bloodstream, nicking my veins and arteries, and embedding themselves into my skin.
I grip the edge of the table, knees shaking as the pain bubbles to the surface, the scalding pieces of my broken heart boiling my blood.
My lycan roars and riots, clawing at his heart. My hands fly to my head, where blood thunders in my ears, squeezing it like a vise.
The room spins, and nothing makes sense. Words and voices fly across the table towards Dominic and me as the others ask more questions, but they’re gibberish—a garbled, mangled web of noises.
None of the questions matter because they won’t erase the truth. They won’t change the grim reality of the situation.
I failed her. I promised Sarina I would find her, but I didn’t. And now she’s in the hands of sex traffickers.
