Page 111 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ARA

A ll that power I’d been pushing into Rogue snapped back like a thousand jolts.

A blast of it flung Adonis off, and I scrambled to my feet, skin glowing. Silver light reflected on the bloodied snow and mud.

Drakyth stalked past me to where Adonis landed with a hard thud in the center of the Bloodsworn camp. The cloaking spell tumbled like shards of glass all around us, disintegrating before they hit the ground.

I ran to Rogue. Collapsed at his side.

Iaso was there too, her hand pressed into his stomach. Blood flowed from between her trembling fingers. So much power poured from her, her vines started to wither. The gold in her eyes dimmed—but mine burned bright.

I laid my hand atop hers. Pushed power into him.

The wound wouldn’t close, but his chest still rose with shallow, unsteady breaths. He wasn’t dead.

He couldn’t die.

Lightning cleaved the sky. Black clouds churned, wind howled and swept over the battlefield in a storm of ice.

When lightning struck, I latched on.

My arm trembled, teeth clenched. The scar along my forearm split open and bled light as I held the crackling bolt in my fist.

A scream shredded my throat.

Iaso pulled her hand away as I wrenched the bolt and slammed it into Rogue’s abdomen.

His eyes snapped open, a flash of energy around his irises.

He gasped, but his eyes?—

His eyes were pained.

He shook his head faintly.

A heartbeat later, blood started to leak again. Trickled down his side.

“You can’t…” he rasped.

A sob shattered in my chest. “I can!”

My hands hovered over him, then pressed into the wound again. I channeled more and more energy until he glowed with silver light, too—but it leaked from the wound.

He swallowed thickly and removed my hand.

More blood poured. More light.

He pressed my palm to his mouth. Kissed it. “Not this time, baby.”

“No,” I cried, my words broken. “No, I can do it. Please, Rogue. ?? Please. You promised you wouldn’t leave me. You promised. ”

His thumb swiped over my cheek. Too gentle. Too cold.

He clenched his teeth, his breath shuddering, straining as he reached for my hip. When he fell back, he pressed metal into my hand.

A hilt.

Sacrifice.

I shook my head.

He nodded.

I tried to let go, to shove it away, to hurl it into another realm.

But he closed my fingers around it, cradling my hand with both of his.

“In another life, a gentler one, a fairer one, I would’ve stayed with you for as long as you’d have me.

We would’ve had a little girl just like you.

” He smiled with a faint laugh that erupted into coughing, a gargle in his lungs.

“So many rooms to fill in Draig Hearth. A castle full of children…as long as they all looked like you.”

I sobbed over our hands. “ Please .”

“We would’ve lost track of the years. Watched every sunrise and sunset together. Grown old. Happy. At peace… I want peace for you.” He tipped my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. His red had dulled, his fire gone. “I need to know you’ll still fight for it.”

He pulled my face down and kissed me hungrily at first, then lovingly, softly—in all the ways he never would again.

“Don’t let me die for nothing,” he managed. “Use my death. Bring him back.”

I couldn’t do this, couldn’t endure this, couldn’t breathe ? —

This would kill me.

He knew it would kill me.

“End this, little storm, once and for all.”

“I can’t,” I cried, shaking my head. “I can’t. ”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek and whispered in my ear, “But remember, not even death can keep me from you.”

Then, with his hand around mine and mine around the hilt, he jabbed Sacrifice into his side, just beneath his ribs.

He tensed. Blood spurted.

I didn’t move. I didn’t scream. I didn’t breathe.

I did nothing, because I could do nothing.

Rogue, my mate, my love, my husband, choked on one more breath, then his chest went still.

“I love you,” fell from my numb lips.

Our mate bond…

It was gone. In its place, shards remained, sharp and slicing, ravaging my too-empty chest. Rogue wasn’t there.

I was empty, and Rogue was gone.

Dead.

Killed with my hand.

The bloodstone flared blindingly. Severance, too, the storm’s eye brighter than the sun.

Adonis shouted. People screamed—sobbed. A beast roared.

Wind tore at my clothing.

I threw myself over Rogue’s body, clinging to him, but the wind grew stronger.

Invisible hands grabbed my arms, my waist, my legs, my wrists.

I dug my fingers into Rogue’s flesh, fisted his shirt, clawed at anything and everything.

Nothing worked.

In seconds, I was ripped from him, not by man or soul.

By fate itself.

A cruel fate, etched into prophecy, tore a new hole in the veil and yanked me through it.