Page 26 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

I shifted on my feet at the uncomfortable burn, and his gaze fell lower. Redness crawled down my neck as he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes like he savored whatever he scented.

I turned on my heel and sprinted. I wrenched the doorknob and yanked the door open, but a hand slammed it shut again. His face lowered to my throat, into my hair.

“Running is never a good idea with me,” he whispered, sending a wave of chills over my skin.

The sudden urge to run—for a different reason—wound through me, and he released a low hum like he could read my mind.

Tightening my grip around the dagger he’d seemingly forgotten about, I stabbed it straight back.

It should’ve hit his abdomen, an easy sink as there were no bones in the way.

I should have hit gut, organ, something soft and indispensable, but I hit a wall instead.

No, not a wall.

A large hand wrapped around my wrist, as rigid as stone. I jerked, then gasped when he twisted my arm behind my back at an awkward angle, forcing me to drop the dagger.

It clattered to the ground, the only sound between our heavy breaths.

His mouth was still near my ear, so close I could feel his words as he whispered, “Yet you always seem to do it, anyway.”

The fingers of his free hand wrapped around my other wrist and tugged, pulling harder when I refused to let go of the doorknob.

When he broke my grip free, he turned the lock, and the click sounded eerily similar to him sealing my fate.

My breaths were quick and shallow as he pushed me forward until my chest pressed into the door. He kept my arm behind my back with one hand, but his other…

It slid up my arm, his fingertips skimming so lightly, I almost couldn’t feel it, yet chills followed in his wake. A burning sensation spread under my skin wherever he touched, and I wanted to smother it.

“If you won’t get out,” I said, my voice much too breathless, “then let me go.”

“Neither of those things will ever happen,” he murmured, his breath sliding over the sensitive skin of my neck. His hand moved over my shoulder to my chin, another point of contact that sparked flames in various parts of my body—one in particular I would not acknowledge.

It was wrong . This entire situation was wrong.

I needed to disappear. Forever.

“Why?” I whispered.

“I’ve already told you we need to talk.” His thumb slid along the column of my throat, slowly moving up and down, and I found myself focusing on the small movement.

“Then, talk,” I ground out through gritted teeth.

Cupping my jaw, he tilted my head to expose my neck, and my breath hitched, blood roaring in my ears. He’s going to kill me, tear my throat out with his ? —

Warm lips pressed to my neck, and my breathing stopped entirely. “The others think you’re here to assassinate me.”

That snapped me out of…whatever this was, and he released my arm when I whirled in his hold, pushing back into the door to gain as much space as possible.

Not enough.

He grinned, his eyes on my mouth, his chest pressed into mine with his arm braced over my head. Mere inches separated our faces—Goddess, he was tall—but he dipped down like he needed to be closer.

I was trapped between him and solid wood, a monster and a wall.

With a hard swallow, I glared at him. “Me? Assassinate you? I ran from you. Why the fuck would I do that if I wanted to kill you?”

His mouth curved in a smirk, his eyes meeting mine. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Then let me go,” I urged. “I’m no threat to you or anyone.”

His eyes glowed again, molten and fiery. “Stop asking that.”

“Stop holding me here.”

His palm flattened over my chest and slid up until his fingers laced around my throat. When they tightened, my pulse hitched beneath his fingertips, and he skimmed his lips over mine. I sucked in a shaky breath, the scent of evergreens and smoke invading my lungs.

I loved it, and I hated it.

“No.” When the word slid over my mouth, my lips parted, and I felt his smile—fucking infuriating.

He could choke me all he wanted; I was leaving. “Yes.”

“You’re insufferable,” he murmured without malice. It almost sounded like…a compliment?

His thumb resumed its movement along my throat, and my thoughts stuttered for a split second.

I attempted to shift my head and free my mouth from his, but when he refused me an inch, I whispered, “You’re the only reason I’m still here, asshole.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Of course, I am.”

Oh.

Rogue Draki possessed fire magic, infamously so, and he must be using it now. I was hot—too hot, yet sweat didn’t bead on my skin. No, this heat burrowed beneath it and settled deeper.

It didn’t help that he offered me zero space. In fact, the more I insisted on distance, the closer he got.

I couldn’t understand why, though. Why me? Why now?

I hadn’t realized those questions escaped until he slid his mouth along mine again like he couldn’t help himself and answered, “Why not?”

A scream of frustration built in my throat, and without a second thought for my own well-being, I snapped forward and captured his bottom lip. Metallic burst in my mouth before I released him.

“Why?” I asked with more emphasis.

When he didn’t answer, awareness settled over me. My heart ricocheted in my chest as he reared back enough for me to see his expression, the way he ran his tongue over his lip, licking the blood away, and his eyes…

They were stunningly bright.

I couldn’t look away. Two stars—no, two fiery suns stared back at me, luminous, warm, beautiful…

Dangerous.

A stunning trap.

His hand tightened until he nearly choked off my air way, shadows falling over his hard features as he tipped his chin down and cocked his head, suddenly reminding me of who I was in the company of.

He looked…rogue. Terrifyingly and unpredictably rogue.

My racing heart thumped in my throat, and he no doubt felt it. He slid his thumb over the artery and pressed, cutting off the blood flow to my head. Stars sparked in my vision as I pressed myself into the door, but there was no escaping him in this position.

I feared there might never be any escaping him.

“You are mine.” He released his grip a fraction, and I gasped. “You may not remember me, but I remember you, and if you think you’ll ever be free of me, you’re sadly mistaken.”

He’s gone mad. The King of Ravaryn is mad, and my life hangs in his deranged hands.

“You couldn’t escape me before.” He took a step back, and under normal circumstances, I would’ve sucked in a breath of relief—but these weren’t normal circumstances.

No, he kept his hand around my throat, holding me at arm’s length, so his gaze could peruse my entire form.

It was at this horrifying moment that I realized my legs were bare beneath the oversized shirt, only covered to my upper thigh.

My eyes widened. Is this his shirt? “And you’re sure as fuck not now. ”

His lips crashed to mine.

I planted my hands on his chest with a sharp inhale, and he took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into my mouth.

I mumbled profanities and shoved at him, but he didn’t budge or break away from my lips.

When I attempted to knee him in the groin, he caught my thigh with his hand and used it to widen my stance, planting himself between my legs, so I couldn’t do it again.

My head turned fuzzy, my fight dissipating when he slid his hand from my throat to my jaw and tipped my head back to deepen the kiss, but fucking lightning shot through my body when his other hand skimmed over a spot at the base of my neck.

A whimper slipped out before I could stop it, and his answering groan went straight to my core.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked against my lips.

“Yes,” I lied.

He grinned before whispering, “Then, you’ll have to let me go.”

My mouth opened but snapped shut when I realized my hands were knotted in his hair. Heat crept into my cheeks as I quickly dropped the traitors to my sides.

He clicked his tongue but finally released me.

Every part of my body screamed, desperate for friction, heat, touch, anything, but I fought the urge to step forward and close the space again. Without tearing my eyes from his, I inched my hand toward the doorknob.

In the blink of an eye, he snatched my wrist and flipped it over to kiss the silver scar. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

But my eyes narrowed, his words lost.

He glanced up. “What is it?”

I pulled my wrist, and he let it go as I studied the silver mark on my skin. It started at my palm and climbed my forearm to my elbow, resembling lightning, but I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten it or how long I’d had it.

Yet he knew.

He knew it was there and kissed it like it was natural, like he’d done it a hundred times before.

My gaze slid back to him, the knot of unease sinking in my gut. Where that memory should’ve been, there was just darkness—not nonexistent, exactly, but an empty space where something had been, or a veil of smoke concealing whatever lay beyond.

“Do you know how I got this?” I asked.

His eyes returned to normal, and he nodded once.

My grip tightened around my wrist, searching for the shackle marks that were no longer there. I glanced down at them, rotating my arm back and forth. The scars were gone. Not even a scab remained. Only that silver lightning.

Tension coiled in my muscles until they were ready to snap as I stared at it, forcing myself to remember, but the more I tried, the more frustrated I grew. It was like attempting to grasp smoke. I could see it, feel it, chase it, but not catch it.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears. “Adonis?”

I didn’t have to clarify. A muscle feathered in his jaw, and he nodded again.

There were gaps in my memory because of Adonis, because he wormed his way into my head. How much did he erase?

Who did he erase?

My breathing shallowed but not with panic. Lightning cracked outside, followed by the roar of rain. It filled the space between us as the room dropped a few degrees.

“You know me,” I said.

“Yes.”