Page 23 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ARA

B y some unfortunate miracle, Terran had caught up with me mere hours after I’d lost him. The energy I’d absorbed only carried me so far after months of malnourishment, but I’d moved fast.

Hard as I might have tried, he was a pest I couldn’t shake, not in this state, although I still wasn’t sure why he was here.

I couldn’t muster enough energy to consider his intentions or how he caught me so quickly, much less question him about it.

Exhaustion had settled in my body, weighing me down like my bones had been replaced with iron.

Maybe I’d end up crawling the remaining distance on my hands and knees after all.

So, here we were, crossing the bridge into King’s Port together, the moon high overhead and the air biting, each step harder than the last. Terran repeatedly offered more energy, but I’d taken all I could without also taking his life.

I wasn’t the only one waning, and I couldn’t—wouldn’t kill him.

I didn’t deserve his life any more than he deserved to lose it.

Once we reached the middle, I paused and leaned on the rail, taking a slow, deep breath and staring down at the water below, as black as the sky above. White stars sparkled across the smooth river, the hint of brine and rum on the breeze.

He leaned onto the rail next to me. “You’re sure she’ll be there?”

I swallowed hard, closing my eyes. They suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. Even speaking felt like trying to move mountains. “Goddess, I hope so.”

Doran said she was fine. He told me to come here, that he’d meet me here.

He never promised anything else, but I realized that too late.

Not once did he say she was in King’s Port, but I didn’t catch that until I was already halfway here.

I’d been too preoccupied, too terrified it was another trick—too terrified it wasn’t another trick.

If I wouldn’t freeze to death, I’d curl up right here on the bridge and sleep for days. Months, even. At this point, I would be happy to sleep for the rest of my life.

“At this tavern?”

I rubbed my palms down my face and nodded before finally looking up at him, then down the bridge and across the street to where the building sat, as ancient as Doran described it. “That’s what he said. The tavern across from the bridge.”

It was built from the same uneven stone as the surrounding buildings, stained green by algae, with windows made of cracked, dirty glass but clear enough to reveal the crowded tavern inside. Beams of light illuminated the dark street, flickering when someone walked by the window.

I inhaled another deep breath, steeling myself, before strolling across the street. I peeked inside the window, and the patrons seemed happy enough, laughing and chatting with drinks in hand—the same as any other tavern.

Terran asked, “ This tavern?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yes, this tavern. Why do you…”

My stomach sank when I turned to see him lingering at the base of the bridge, staring, jaw clenched. When he didn’t reply, I walked back to join him.

I followed his line of sight, and etched in stone above the door sat a creature with long, tangled limbs. The color had long since faded, but it almost looked like an octopus or a squid or?—

“A kraken.” He pointed to the carving. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of those. A very long time.” Shaking his head, he stalked forward.

My brows furrowed, my eyes flicking between the two of them before turning to the nearby sea. It looked the same as any other, dark rolling waves caressing the sand. I followed the water through the bay to under our feet, watching, waiting—for what, I didn’t know.

The surface looked mostly smooth, no white foam or thrashing, but when I leaned over and squinted, Terran grabbed the back of my shirt, careful not to graze my skin.

I gasped, jumping away from both the rail and his touch.

“Don’t get too close,” he warned, his gaze distant. “Those who go under that surface never come up again. It will drown you.” He lifted his face to the ocean before his eyes turned to the town, skimming over each building. “This town loves to drown.”

While he crossed the street, I stared into the water. I couldn’t look away. I searched for the threat, for the guarantee of death, but saw nothing. It was too beautiful, too deceptive, too good at its performance.

The sea, with all her beauty and promise, held a fury that didn’t discriminate, one that consumed with an insatiable hunger.

I wanted to be like the sea.

I would never be caught again. I would never be weak again.

I would hide beneath the guise of a woman, feminine, but I would be feminine like a dagger.

Though smaller and less conspicuous, the thinnest blades were always the sharpest. In the right hands, even the smallest weapon could inflict a wound as deadly as the largest sword.

I would be feminine like the sea, like this river, like this death trap . I would die or conquer, but I would never feel the bite of a shackle again.

Never. Again.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, a flash of lightning striking the dark sea, and a tired smile curved my lips at the sky’s approval.

“You coming?” Terran asked.

I nodded, following him to the tavern entrance. With a sigh, he opened the door, and we slipped inside.

Loud.

I fought the urge to cover my ears, my fingers twitching. It was loud —talking, shouting, glasses clinking on the bar, music from the corner, out of tune and off rhythm. When someone scooted their chair back, a loud screech pierced the noise, and I flinched.

My heart rattled in my chest, racing faster when my throat tightened. Tears stung my eyes at the realization that I’d grown used to the silence. The torturous, agonizing silence.

I closed my eyes, hands trembling, before an unfamiliar but comforting male voice whispered in the back of my mind. “Things that remind you of calm.”

I focused on my breaths—in, out, in, out—and peeled my eyes open in search of relief, but this technique hadn’t worked in so long, I’d given it up. The fear it wouldn’t now spiked in my gut, a sense of helplessness flaming the panic.

Close by, a glass was knocked off a table and hit the floor, where it shattered into pieces. I jumped away from it and bumped into Terran, quickly recoiling with a sharp inhale. I swiveled to him, apologies on the tip of my tongue, while tingling crawled up my arms, chest heaving.

His brows furrowed, head tilted to the side. “Are you all right?”

“I-I…” I shook my head and shuffled back a few steps. “Loud. It’s loud.”

He dipped his chin and slipped his hands into his pockets. Turning his attention to the bar, he took a not-so-discreet step closer to me. “I had a friend once, a dreamer as I liked to call him.”

My fingers dug into my chest. Maybe if they dug deep enough, they’d tear open a hole directly to my lungs, and air would finally find a way in. The more my chest burned, the harder it was to breathe.

My skin crawled, cold despite the sweat sliding down my spine. I might as well have been submerged under Adonis’s water, icy and merciless.

Terran, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was suffocating, continued, “He was a special one, selfless in a way that you only hear about in legends and stories. The day we met, the circumstances were less than ideal. My son had become a…problem, and he needed my help. Mine.” His cheeks puffed as he blew out a breath, shaking his head. “Can you believe that?”

I squinted my eyes at him, my palm flattened on my sternum, my heart hammering beneath it. “He was your son.”

The hint of a smile curved his lips, but his eyes narrowed at me. “You’re just like him, expecting things from people who’d rather be left alone.”

“We don’t always…get the silence…we want,” I managed through gasps.

The subtle grin slid from his face. “No, I suppose we don’t.” He strolled toward the tables slowly as if he were merely walking down memory lane. “Despite that, I agreed to meet him, and good thing I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I met a man worthy of the title he bore. For the first time in hundreds of years, I saw a man who hadn’t succumbed to power—didn’t hunger for more.

” A sad laugh and then, “Hell, he didn’t even want the power he already had.

The man was untouched by the plague of corruption, impervious to temptation, and that is…

remarkably rare.” He stared through a window overlooking the ocean, but he seemed to be looking much farther, to a place I couldn’t see.

“He was a good person, and while I may never be good, he made me better. He had that effect on people.”

When he leaned onto the windowsill, I joined him, the worn wood smooth beneath my elbows. “Had?”

“Had,” he repeated with a dip of his chin, quieter than before.

“Who was he?”

He didn’t answer at first, and in the silence, I found the waves. They lapped at the shore, the moon bright on the horizon.

So envious I am of the sea.

I’d lost myself in staring, having forgotten the question I’d asked, when I noticed him glance down.

His eyes were sad but warm. “A friend who also felt panic, much like your own.”

My lips fell slack before I turned back to the ocean. Distraction. His entire story had been a distraction—and it worked. The tavern hadn’t quieted, but my head had.

“Was any of that true?” I asked.

“Every single word.” Terran sighed before pushing off the windowsill.

I turned and scanned the tavern with my heart in my throat, each breath shaky. I spotted a few blonde-headed women, but each time they turned and it wasn’t Livvy, the back of my throat burned a little more. My tongue pushed on my teeth, ready to start calling her name.

She wasn’t here.

If she wasn’t here, then she was dead, rotting in the snow—not rotting. Frozen. Her body would be encased in ice. Her warmth and curves gone, her brown eyes cold.

A dull roar started in my ears.

The crowd hushed and looked to the windows.

Not in my ears, then.