Page 31 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ROGUE

A ra yelped when I scooped her up and threw her over my shoulder.

Livvy shouted something behind us as I strode to the door, but I didn’t bother slowing. We were leaving. The others could follow later, but we were leaving now.

As the door closed behind us, Ara patted my back and squirmed. “I can walk.”

“Can you?” I asked.

She scoffed and squirmed harder, pushing on my shoulder. “Yes, you asshole. Put me—hey. Hey, stop!”

I went rigid when a bolt of her lightning zipped down my spine.

“Sorry,” she muttered as she propped herself up on my shoulder. “Stop! Leave her alone, you fucking?—”

I set her on her feet and spun, body armored in dragonscale, a ring of fire searing around us. By the time I spotted who she shouted at, lightning cleaved the dark sky, throwing bolts over the sea before one struck the cobblestone road.

A man scurried away from the white-haired bartender, mumbling apologies.

“Serves you right. Next time, I’ll cut your hands off and eat them,” Mae shouted, then cocked a smile at Ara. “Drunk men are the worst .” To me, she said, “Bottom feeders, the lot of ya.”

“Are you all right?” Ara asked.

“Oh, yes. Thanks to you. The bastard’s tried one too many times?—”

My head snapped toward him. He ran, bottle in hand, but burst into flames before he turned the corner. His choked scream only lasted a heartbeat before he collapsed.

With the speed at which he burned, he must’ve had several bottles of alcohol in his system already.

Both women gawked at me, though only Mae reeked of fear.

“—to steal my bag,” Mae finished. Tipping her head, she rambled on, “But he has been increasingly handsy with the women here. We planned to ban him from the tavern, which doesn’t always go over so well.

I guess we won’t have to worry about that anymore.

” She let out a breathy laugh. “Thank you for saving me the trouble.”

I didn’t respond. Ready for this interaction to be over, I had a mind to toss Ara back over my shoulder, but she and Mae shared a long look as Mae pulled her bag onto her shoulder.

She quirked a brow, a slight widening of her eyes.

What’s happening?

Ara stifled a smile and waved her on. Mae blew out a breath, stole another glance at me, and strolled down the path. As she sidestepped the smoking man, she glanced back at Ara, feigning disgust.

Ara called out, “It was nice to meet you.”

Mae laughed, waving a hand, before she disappeared around the corner, and I slung Ara over my shoulder. She gasped, smacking every part of me she could reach.

“Again?” she screeched. “For the love of—put me down. ”

“No.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to argue, but I didn’t want to release her. In fact, I’d prefer to carry her everywhere.

“Put. Me. Down.” She hit my back with her fist between each word. I winced when she hit one of the vertical wounds, and she froze before whispering, “What was that?”

When I didn’t answer, she tugged my shirt up to see for herself, and a broken breath was her only response. I couldn’t imagine what she saw after I’d clawed at them when I thought she died. I’d refused the healing salve, but they were healing on their own.

I hadn’t felt the need to reopen the infernal wounds since she returned—since I smothered the Fae half of me.

“W-what? How?” Her fingertips lightly skimmed over the scabs, feeling the scarred tissue. “I thought you lost them months ago when I was captured.”

“I did.”

“Then…Why…”

“I did this.” No need to hide it. It was the truth, one she most likely wouldn’t remember come daylight.

A wet drop hit my skin and rolled down my back, icy in the frigid night air. When another fell, I stopped and set her on her feet.

She averted her gaze and discreetly wiped her cheeks, but she was undoubtedly crying.

I slid two fingers beneath her chin and turned her face back toward mine. Her silver eyes were exquisite, sparkling with tears and bright as the moon itself. Her bottom lip quivered, and I couldn’t help but run my thumb over it.

Stunning little creature.

“Don’t tell me these tears are for me,” I murmured, fixated on her mouth.

“It’s the Fae rum.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded once. “Sea Fae rum.”

My thumb stilled on her lip, my eyes flitting up to hers. “Sea Fae rum, hmm? Where did you get that?”

“Mae.”

I stared for a moment, stunned, then angry.

I reigned in the urge to go hunt Mae down—her and every other person charged with keeping a watchful eye on Ara—and threw her back over my shoulder. She sucked in a breath but didn’t fight this time.

Sea Fae rum was not made the same way as normal alcohol. It contained the blood of the sea. Whoever brewed the batch had added a drop of sea Fae blood, and not only did I vehemently hate that another’s essence ran through Ara’s veins, but it shouldn’t be possible.

The sea Fae had been eradicated half a millennium ago.

They’d once lived near here in the Southern Sea, but while Ravayrn was consumed by the War of Brothers, Auryna waged a separate war against the people of the sea: humans versus Fae, pirates versus the crown.

It was as multifaceted and bloody as the War of Brothers, and much like the decimation of the Draki line, the sea Fae and the pirate horde had been annihilated.

But the Draki line hadn’t fully ended, had it?

Perhaps the sea Fae hadn’t been, either.

How else did Mae get the rum? Surely, she wasn’t carrying around an ancient bottle made hundreds of years ago—or maybe she was. This was King’s Port, after all, her father a captain among the seas. Perhaps they had found a hidden stash of treasure, rum included, matured over the centuries.

Either way, another’s blood ran through Ara’s veins, and I hated it.

She’d tasted mine when she claimed me, and irrational as it might be, I needed to be the only one in her system. I needed to eviscerate whoever swam through her veins, because it wasn’t my blood making her this delirious, and it should be.

As we stepped onto the dock, she lifted her head and glanced around. It was crowded tonight, men and women, Fae and human, hovering near their ships, not paying us any mind as they drank and gambled. Lamps flickered atop barrels with various card games, the scent of rum and brine thick in the air.

When the breeze blew, colder near the water, Ara shivered, and my magic took it upon itself to warm my skin.

She shifted on my shoulder. “If you insist on carrying me, could you at least do it more comfortably?”

She gasped when I tossed her forward and caught her in a bridal hold, her eyes wide, mouth agape.

“Better?”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. With a soft sigh, she laid her head on my chest. “Better.”

Maybe sea Fae rum isn’t so bad.

The wooden ramp creaked under our weight as we climbed up to Ewan’s ship. He spoke with his quartermaster on deck, gesturing to the town.

When he caught sight of us, he tossed his head in the direction of the hatch before mouthing, “Is she all right?”

“Drunk.”

He gave a sharp nod and returned to his conversation.

Ara didn’t pull away when we made it below deck, despite the heating lanterns, and I started to wonder if she’d fallen asleep.

I carried her to the same room we’d stayed in all those months ago when she’d rescued me, the lamps and candles sparking to life as I shut the door.

The small flames flickered, shadows dancing.

I lit an extra heating lamp before laying her on the bed. Lifting her legs, I tucked them under the blanket and pulled the covers up to her chest before I realized her eyes were on me—awake, half hooded, and molten silver.

I slid my fingers over her cheek, into her hair, and I didn’t miss the way she subtly leaned into my touch. When the scent of her desire reached me, my lips twitched with a smirk.

I started to pull my hand back, but she grabbed my wrist, holding me in place, a flush creeping up her neck.

A deep satisfaction rose in my chest. She didn’t have to remember how I felt inside her to know she needed me.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

I lowered an inch closer to her. “This is our room.”

Her lips parted as she released my hand, and I strolled to the table to pour her a much needed cup of Iaso’s tea, the water already warm.

As I stared at the steaming liquid, my eyes flickered, my pupils oscillating between round and slitted, my canines extending.

I ran my tongue over the sharp teeth, grinning, my back to Ara as I lifted my hand to my mouth and pricked my finger on one of the points.

Holding it above her cup, I watched as a single drop of red fell into the tea, then another for good measure.

My claimed. My blood.

As I walked back to her, she sat up, her gaze flitting between mine and the mug. “What is that?”

“Is that distrust I hear?” I clicked my tongue. “After everything I’ve done? Shameful.”

She scoffed. “Oh, like kidnapping me? Should I thank you instead?”

“Kidnapping?” I asked with a chuckle.

Her eyes heated with the anger and lust she failed to hide.

“That’s what this is: kidnapping. I wanted to leave, and you held me hostage. Hell, you wouldn’t even leave. You watch me all hours of the night and day like a what? Oh, that’s right. A kidnapper.” She crossed her arms. “If not kidnapping, what would you call it, asshole?”

“Call it whatever you want. Call me whatever you want. It’s not the first time we’ve been through this.”

Confusion twisted her features. When questions started to spill from her, I leaned forward to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, effectively silencing them.

Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, and I was close enough to feel each one on my cheek—intoxicatingly intimate.

“But personally?” I whispered. Her eyes fell to my mouth. “I don’t consider it kidnapping. How can I steal you when you already belong to me?”