Page 46 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ARA

“ Y ou want me to climb…up there?” I asked, gawking at the wyvern’s wing stretched out before me.

“You’ve done it before,” Rogue said. “Besides, he’d let me fall before you.”

My head spun, and I glanced up at the sky—at how far it was, how far the fall would be. “I would prefer neither of us fell.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.” He chuckled behind me, and heat seeped into my cheeks when his hand found my lower back, urging me forward. As I staggered a step closer, the wyvern practically buzzed with excitement. His feet inched toward us, his head turned to watch. “Now, climb.”

Rope dangled from the wyvern’s neck, wrapped tightly around the spikes lining his spine. I tugged on it, testing its strength, and inhaled a slow, regretful breath before climbing up.

My heart thundered as I reached the top and straddled his back, but it leapt into my throat when Rogue settled behind me, his legs lining mine.

He reached around either side of me to grab onto the intricately knotted cord between my legs.

It wound and intertwined between a few spikes, creating a web of sorts, and Rogue weaved his hand into it like he’d done it a thousand times.

“Hold on,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.

Goosebumps spread over my skin, a chill down my spine, and I closed my eyes, but they snapped open when the wyvern took a step, then another, his body swaying beneath us.

Gasping, I tried to maneuver my hand in the same way he had, my stomach in matching knots.

Is this…Is this the only thing to hold us on?

The scales were smooth, no ridges or bumps to provide traction, and I realized with horror that this rope and Rogue’s hold were the only things between me and imminent death.

The wyvern bellowed a deafening roar, echoed by my scream, as he leapt into the air with a thrust of his wings. I slid back into Rogue’s hard body. The trees swayed from the gust, flowers rippling like a rainbow sea.

Rogue’s laughter filled my ears, and my lips twitched with a smile, my heart racing a thousand miles an hour, a halfhearted laugh bubbling in my throat.

Then, winter air slammed into me.

Away from the wetland, the temperature dropped rapidly, the air growing thinner the higher we went.

I scrunched my eyes.

The rope grew colder, harder, tighter until I could no longer distinguish it from metal. It served its intended purpose, steadfast and unyielding; the harder I pulled, the deeper it bit into my skin.

I snapped my eyes open and tugged my arm, but then, I saw it—saw my hand entangled.

Shackled.

Chained.

Captured.

Mist hit my face, and I inhaled sharply. Panic roared. My mouth opened, but no sound came. Sweat beaded on my forehead, despite the frigid air. Because of the frigid air.

I grabbed my wrist. Jerked. Ripped at it over and over.

Rogue spoke behind me. I couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t understand him.

The roar was too loud. My racing heart too loud. The wind too loud. The terror too loud.

The cord didn’t give.

Unforgiving as metal.

“Rogue,” I managed, so quiet I barely heard it, my voice strangled, trapped as thoroughly as I was. My eyes burned, vision blurred. My hand and wrist burned too, bright red. “Rogue, please.”

His hand closed around my arm, waiting until I stilled before he expertly disentangled my fingers.

My limbs shook, a cry thick in my throat as he wrapped his arm around me, holding my hand to my chest. He tugged me closer, his skin warm, and I sank into him, a choked sound escaping my lips. With his body swallowing mine, he created a bubble of heat, but I wanted more, needed more.

He grew warmer still, and it was like sticking numb hands in hot water—likely dangerous but so damned relieving, I couldn’t pull away.

He lowered his head to mine, pressing his cheek to my hair and murmuring soft words. He was naming things, I realized, calm things.

The sky, bright and blue, not a cloud in sight—something he supposedly took great comfort in.

The endless sea in the distance, its waves steady and rhythmic.

“And somewhere much farther than we can see, there’s a cliffside that overlooks the ocean.

If you go at the right time, you can watch the sun set on the edge of the world and see it all: the fire of dusk, the black of night, and the dark navy that bridges the two.

You can watch night consume the day, and the stars spark to life, one by one, until moonlight is all that’s left. ”

“I would like to see that,” I whispered.

“You will.”

My hair whipped around my face. The wind ripped at my clothes, cold and misty, the air too thin for my useless lungs, but I matched my breaths to Rogue’s, his scent stronger than anything else: evergreens and smoke.

I focused on it, envisioning soft nights beneath those sparkling stars, with bonfires and gentle touches. Days spent in the forest, leaves crunching underfoot and burning logs scented on the breeze, his hand in mine. A soft sunrise with crisp air and a thick blanket, his arms around me then, too.

When I returned to somewhat normal, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head, and my heart skipped a beat for a different reason.

Behind me, his body was hard, all muscle and strength, his skin tanned and scarred—a testament to his resilience and will to live. He looked every bit the Draig he was, a warrior through and through, larger than most men, both tall and broad, but his heart…

His heart was completely different today than it was yesterday. Today, he was kind and compassionate, and I had a feeling this was the man I’d fallen for.

I didn’t know him either, not any more than I knew the man he was yesterday, but he felt more familiar. I knew he’d hold the pieces of me together when I fell apart. I knew he’d wipe my tears without judgment and whisper sweet words I didn’t deserve.

I’d tried to kill him.

I’d almost succeeded in killing him, yet he still wanted me.

He loved me too much, and I was too selfish. I wanted his love. I wanted someone who would be there to find me when I was lost, because as of late, I was lost more than not. I wanted to love him, too, but my love would never feel as safe as his did, not anymore.

His lack of self-preservation in regards to me would be his downfall, and that weighed in my gut.

If I were a better person, I’d leave—at least until I figured out how to remove Adonis from my head. Rogue’s death could be planted in there right now, just waiting for the right moment.

If I were a better person, I’d let him go.

But he held me like I was a better person. He held me like he loved me and would never let anything happen to either of us.

He touched me.

He was the only person whose touch didn’t cause an onslaught of panic, and the thought of doing this alone made the knot in my throat thick and hot again.

I snuggled further into him. He hooked his hand on my shoulder, his arm over my chest, and I rested my chin on it with one hand on his bicep and one on his forearm.

I was not a good person.

But maybe he didn’t want a good person.

Maybe he just wanted…me.

“Where are we going?” I asked, in need of distraction.

His chest vibrated with a hum. “The other night, when you saw me shirtless, did you notice the tattoo on my chest?”

My cheeks burned. “Yes.”

His fingers found my chin and tipped my head back. He studied the color in my cheeks, running his thumb over it. “I missed this sight, too.”

I swallowed, hardly able to breathe.

“The tattoo on my chest is a six-pointed sun. It’s the symbol of?—”

“A blood oath?” My brows shot up. “You marked a blood oath on your body ? I’ve been to Canyon. I’ve seen that one.”

His torso shook with a low laugh. “We went together.”

I sighed. Of course, we did.

“But yes, it looks nearly identical to that. Marking the oath into skin is an old practice of kings, but it was lost to time because it was a tightly kept secret. Only those in the royal’s inner circle and those bound to the oath were privy to its existence.”

My eyes fell to the beast we sat upon—an ancient beast, who knew the last king and the one before him.

“Did you learn that from the wyverns?” I asked after another beat of his massive wings. Dark skin stretched over them, but the sunlight made it appear nearly maroon, veins slicing through the expanse like thin rivers.

I imagined this was what Rogue’s would’ve looked like, too, an expanse of sunlit ruby skin.

“They’ve taught me many ways of the old. People used to be much more…ruthless, to put it kindly, but not all of it is so cutthroat—like this, for example. This was and continues to be very beneficial.”

I wondered what other techniques he must be using. If they were forgotten to the world as he said, left only to the wyverns to remember, then Adonis would never see them coming. No one would.

What did Adonis hope to gain in this war? Rogue had an army of wyverns. Adonis could survive them— if he was truly immortal—but his army couldn’t. His kingdom couldn’t.

He would be the sole survivor, and walking away from the battle alive and alone was a long way from succeeding. He couldn’t win a war against both wyverns and Fae.

Surely, he knew that…or was he truly that delusion?

I paused.

He was that delusional. He would decimate an entire population in his attempts, but would Rogue? Would Rogue sacrifice the entirety of Auryna to reach his brother?

I didn’t think so.

“What contract did you write?” I asked. “And with whom?”

“One that protects me. Those who swear the oath are bound by loyalty, and betrayal comes at the cost of their life.”

My heart skipped a beat. The oath could protect him from me.

“As for who, that would be easier to just show you.”

I straightened, glanced down, and stifled a groan. Oh, we were high—really, really high.

To one side, perched on the edge of the realm and kissing the sea, was Nautia, merely a blip of white from here. To the north, beyond the forest, was a long stretch of land, covered in deep, rich green with a single dirt road winding through it.