Page 22 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

I couldn’t feel the burn of fire, but I could feel the scorch of a broken blood oath.

The woman gasped when the outline of a six-pointed sun glowed beneath my shirt, her eyes bulging.

As punishment was dealt to the poor soul who’d broken his vow, the sun faded back into the black tattoo it appeared to be, albeit a fresh one—one of two marks I had, neither of them actually born in ink.

The wyvern around my neck was courtesy of my role but brought to fruition by Ara’s quick thinking. The sun, however, had been carved by my own hands when I created the oath.

“You…” Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders squared. “That’s a blood oath burned into your skin. ”

She spat the last word with disgust, and I released a huff of amusement.

I’d never heard of someone tying a blood oath to their body before the wyverns had explained it; it was typically tied to land or an object, anything without the ability to feel pain.

“The process was rather gruesome.”

Well worth it, though. Whoever attempted to betray me had already diminished to a smoking pile of bone and ash, and I didn’t have to lift a finger.

Her grip tightened around the strap of her bag. “That’s for life.”

“Almost seems like that’s the point.” I chuckled. “Infallible, unbreakable, and for life .”

“Who are you tied to? Why? What purpose?—”

“Who are you?” I cut in, a wry grin pulling at my lips. “And why do you feel so comfortable questioning me and my choices? Clearly my mistake, if I made you feel safe enough to do so. I’ll do better in the future.”

She didn’t answer, her mouth hanging open with indignation.

“But tell me, why would you think I’d tell you , of all people? Do the people in your life typically spill their secrets to strangers?”

She flinched, and the human I’d forgotten existed grabbed her hand. She pulled it free, her gaze unwavering from mine.

“Why am I even entertaining this right now?” I shook my head and turned on my heel, striding to the tavern’s main room.

“I’m—” Her teeth clamped together audibly when I didn’t bother stopping. I’d already heard more than I cared to, but her footsteps echoed behind me as she followed. “I’m talking to you!”

I threw my hands out to the side. “Then, stop talking.”

The hallway heated, but it wasn’t my anger doing so. Two hotheads in one inn could not be good business for the innkeeper, nor the people in it. Poor guy.

“You will hear me.” She grabbed my wrist again.

I spun, talons ripping from my nail beds so quickly, they sliced her palm as I wrenched my arm free. Eyes burning, she clutched her hand to her chest. Blood spilled from between her fingers and rolled down her forearm.

“I told you once not to touch me. Do it a third time, and you won’t have hands.”

The dark rivulets sizzled and smoked as fire rose beneath her skin.

The human held out a cloth to her, and she wrapped it around her palm. “I traveled all the way here for you. You will hear me when I say this.”

“I will hear nothing .” My voice boomed, and a few heads peeked out of Calypso’s doorway. “I owe you nothing. I don’t even know you.”

She shook her head. “Like father, like son.”

I stilled, anticipating the crushing wave of shame that usually followed a statement like that, but for the first time in my life, none came. No shame, no guilt, no pain.

Instead, a resounding sureness filled my chest.

Because it wasn’t true. It never had been.

“I knew him all too well,” she said, flexing her hand to test the makeshift bandage. “Much more than I wanted to.”

I scoffed. “Nobody wanted to know him, yet many were forced to. Me, included.”

“Rogue, I… My name is Edana.” Her face contorted, her brows pulling together, as if she had to force the words out. “I’m your… You’re my…son. You’re my son, and I’m your mother.”

I blinked once, twice, then nodded with a dry laugh and turned my back on her again. “My mother is dead.”

No footsteps followed this time. “Your mother is a phoenyx.”

My feet came to a slow halt.

“If my mother is alive…” I turned and took slow, controlled steps back to her. “Then she abandoned me.”

She kept her feet firmly planted where she was, her spine rod straight. Her cheeks were an angry red, and the room grew hotter with each shade deeper.

“If she is alive, then she sacrificed me.”

My scales disappeared as I ripped the collar of my shirt down to reveal the scar my father left on me all those years ago. The buttons popped off as I yanked it farther, revealing how he tried to cut me in half, how he tried to send me to be with my ‘ worthless bitch of a mother.’

She dropped her hands, her lips parted as she took it in—nothing more than a stranger seeing the scar of another stranger. There wasn’t worry or motherly concern in her eyes. She studied the remnants of my near-death experience like a student did a horrific incident in their history books.

She finally blinked and averted her gaze when I said, “There was a time that I wished he had succeeded that day.”

Without the emotions tied to the memory, it was simply the truth, black and white, a fact written into my former existence.

“I used to imagine what it’d be like to live with the dead, because at least then, I would be with my mother, and surely, she’d be better than him.

She’d hug me, tuck me in at night, feed me every day, and Goddess, she’d definitely let me play.

She would love me, I was sure of it.” One corner of my mouth tugged up in a humorless smile.

“Turns out, I would’ve been alone either way.

Fate always has had such a sick sense of humor, hmm? ”

Her breaths were audible and quick, her eyes on the closest sconce, following the small flame. She looked at anything but me, her expression tightly leashed. “I lost my memory. That’s what happens when we’re reborn. It…” She cleared her throat. “It doesn’t return right away.”

Thana came into view then, edging closer to us, but she didn’t approach. She hovered mere feet away, watching, waiting.

If Thana was so willing to protect this woman, then she must be telling the truth. After all, she’d been the only one to care enough about her to give her a burial. According to her, she burned Edana in a small pyre like she’d asked, yet here she stood.

A phoenyx, then.

My mother, a phoenyx.

It was an odd sensation knowing I should feel a certain way, yet feeling completely indifferent.

Had she found me only twelve hours ago, maybe I would’ve felt something: happiness, relief, a desire to know her.

Perhaps I would’ve heard alarm bells ringing or felt the weight of caution or guilt in my gut.

Whatever reaction she expected, she wouldn’t get it.

“The problem is I don’t care. If you really are my mother, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Not to me. You’ve wasted, what I imagine, was a very long journey.”

Her anger returned tenfold, speared right at me, and for a split second, I glimpsed the seeds Adrastus sowed in her. His poisonous, invasive weeds had taken root in her psyche.

The same weeds consumed me, too, once upon a time, but Ara handed me shears and forced me to start cutting.

I wondered if Adrastus knew the everlasting torment he left in his death, although if he did, he wouldn’t have cared. In fact, I was sure he’d revel in knowing he could still torture from beyond the veil.

Edana was seconds from combustion when the human cautiously stepped between us, sweat dripping down his brow. He held his breath, eyes wide and movements slow, like he was waiting for a quick and fiery demise.

“All right,” he said. “That’s enough.”

I lifted a brow, mildly impressed. “Who are you?”

He released a sigh and begrudgingly muttered, “Her friend.”

I cocked my head to the side, nodding. He was tall for a human, but I still towered over him, larger in every regard—except his compassion, clearly.

“You’re brave, I’ll give you that. And loyal, too. Rare to find that these days.” My gaze flitted between the two of them before I turned to leave again.

“You smothered it all, didn’t you?” she asked with disdain. “Just like he did.”

“I did what I had to do to survive.”

“That’s good,” she scoffed, “because without that connection to the Fae, to mankind, surviving is all you’ll be doing.”

Thana grimaced, and a crack shot up through the wooden door frame under Lee’s grip.

“Come on, Godrick.” Edana tossed her head toward the door, but when she turned to find the others standing behind her, she paused.

She didn’t understand, but I wouldn’t be the one to explain it to her, nor did she deserve an explanation. She could spend the rest of her life in ignorant bliss for all I cared.

Surviving was all I had ever done.

I didn’t live until Ara showed me how, and then, I watched her die in my arms. Minutes later, Iaso, the only mother I’d ever known, was murdered by the weapon meant for me.

So, yes, I did what I did best and survived.

This existence— any existence was better than rotting in the ground while Ara lived. I wouldn’t be separated from her, not even in death. I would’ve severed the fucking veil to return to her if I had to.

Nothing could keep me from her.

My boots were heavy as I strode down the hallway, each step loud among their vague whispers and shuffling.

“Memories or not, death or not, you escaped him,” Thana, of all people, whispered. “He never did.”

“I had escaped him,” Edana said, “until Rogue forced me to remember.”

More harsh whispers followed, but I tuned them out, my lips twitching with a smile.

Another blade that would’ve cut deep, satisfyingly deflected.