Page 63 of The Delta's Rogue
I drop my hands from my head as my eyes narrow, glaring at Dominic. This is as much his fault as it is mine. He was with her. They were working together.
His attention shifts towards me right as I launch myself at him. My hands encircle his neck, and I pin him to the wall. I’m an inch from his face, fangs out and my lycan right there with me, aura writhing and thrumming through my veins and into the room.
“How did it happen?!” I yell. “How did she end up in their clutches? Where were you? Why weren’t you with her?”
Dominic flounders, mouth opening and closing. Choked sounds fall from his lips. His pulse flutters under my hands, heart lodged in his throat, and he struggles to breathe.
I bear down harder on him, slamming him against the wall again. “Answer me!” I demand, body shaking with the force of the command laced into my words.
His hands clutch at my forearms to yank them away from his throat.
My vision tunnels, honing in on his neck, on his heartbeat.
All it would take is one swipe. One swipe of my clawed hands across the front of his throat, and that would be the end of Dominic.
The claws on my fingers nick his skin as I squeeze tighter. Beads of blood appear, dripping down his neck to the collar of his shirt and over my knuckles. My lip curls, and I breathe in through my nose, inhaling the scent of his fear mixing with the copper tang of his blood.
My lycan howls in triumph, readying himself for our attack, both of us embracing the hunger the scent of blood awakens within us. Both of us ready to dole out punishment to this male for placing Sarina in danger.
Two hands grab my shoulders and rip me from Dominic, stopping me before I can take what I’m owed.
I whip around, ready to strike down the asshole who dared to lay a hand on me and thwart my plan. I charge at him, but Wesley is ready for me.
He sidesteps out of my path, grabs me by the back of the neck, and throws my upper body on top of the table, my cheek smashing against the smooth wooden surface.
“Stand down!” Wes orders before I can get out of his hold. “He can’t give you more information if you kill him!”
His aura breaks through mine, overtaking it and stifling it until nothing remains. I close my eyes, letting Wesley’s alpha command sink in and relinquishing myself to the power it holds over me, and only then does he release me from his grasp.
My shoulders heave as he lets go, and I gasp for air. My skin doesn’t fit on my body. It’s too tight. It itches and ripples, and I claw at my shirt, mimicking the frantic movements of my lycan in my mind. The room contracts, the walls closing in on me with every passing second.
“Sebastian.” Wesley’s voice breaks through the thick fabric shoved in my ears.
I lift my head to meet his eyes. He towers over me, and I realize I’m on my knees, claws piercing holes into the wood flooring.
I can’t be here anymore. I have to get out. I have to escape.
The roaring in my head forces its way through my lips. Wes recoils as I leap to my feet, and the door bounces off the wall as I bolt from the room.
Footsteps echo behind me as I make my way down the hall and out the back door. My body sways as I weave through unsuspecting pack members milling around, but I don’t bother checking to see who is following me.
As soon as I hit the lawn behind the house, I break into a sprint. My natural ability and years of training make up for the unsteady legs and the ungainly, rickety steps my feet take. The footsteps following me mimic my rhythm and pace, staying behind me yet still within reach.
I’m blinded by rage and anguish. My mind only sees images of Sarina instead of the pack grounds as I run the path across the training fields and around the lake to the forest by memory. My imagination conjures gruesome, terrifying visions of Sarina that I hope never come to fruition.
Tree trunks blur into a brown wall, where Sarina is tied to a chair, tears in her eyes as hands roam her body, touching her without permission. The underbrush skitters and flies from beneath my feet as Sarina is forced to kneel in front of an undeserving male who only wants to show others how powerful he is, who only wants to exert full control over anyone and everyone. I leap over a shrub, and Sarina is chained to a bed, arms and legs spread, her once fiery eyes distant and glazed,and—
I trip over a broken branch and crash into a redwood, palms scraping open on the bark as I catch myself. I shove off from the tree, leaving blood on the trunk, and break into a clearing.
Sarina’s clearing.
I didn’t realize that’s where I was heading, but it doesn’t surprise me that I ended up here. It’s both the first and last place I saw her. It’s where I gave her all of myself, and where she left me behind while taking my heart with her.
The footsteps that followed me from the packhouse to this clearing slow from a sprint to a jog behind me, and before their owner moves to my side, I whip my body around and attack.
Three sharp jabs—left, right, left, high, low, and middle—but Wesley blocks each easily, unfazed by my aggression.
I’m undeterred and continue my punches—all of them fast, all of them powerful, and all of them blocked.
