Page 5 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

Perhaps that was what spurred the resentment in his eyes when he looked in my direction. It wasn’t the first time someone looked at me with such disdain; it wouldn’t be the last.

I closed my eyes and turned away from them, sucking in a painful breath as guilt punched me in the gut—but fuck, I was barely surviving. They weren’t the only ones rotting from the inside out.

Each day was darker than the last, the colors duller, the sun dimmer, and tension was building in my chest like a storm swelling beneath my ribs. It’d become a permanent presence, a constant, suffocating pressure that pulled me from my sleep more often than not.

I’d never experienced the kind of panic Ara had dealt with her entire life, but I understood it all too well now, and the attacks were unbearable.

Being surrounded by air I couldn’t use, a heart hammering its way through my sternum, tunneling vision, dread…

Knowing this was what Ara felt in those moments made me want to murder the fates for ever cursing her with such a feeling.

How was I ever expected to live this fucked up existence without her? She gave my life meaning, and my only purpose was to return her to where she belonged: my side.

Guardian lifted his head as we approached. Iaso’s gaze grew heavier the closer she moved, my skin crawling as she checked me over, unwanted warmth pouring from her golden eyes. I hated her doing this when she wasn’t well herself.

She motioned to sit and placed a tray on the ground between us with trembling hands. Aurum came out of nowhere on the other side of Guardian, bounding through the grass, nipping at the old wyvern, who snapped his jaws at him.

Aurum had grown immensely under Iaso’s care, standing taller than even me in my Fae form and a wingspan that wouldn’t fit through the hallways much longer, but he still retained the youthful playfulness that Guardian didn’t particularly like.

Mother is sad, he said. Mother needs love, King. Please love her.

I inhaled sharply against the crushing weight in my chest, but didn’t respond to him.

Iaso poured cups of tea and shoved one in my direction. “Drink.”

I took it without a word and swallowed it all down in two gulps. Much like I was with Elora, she’d only leave me be if I ate and drank. Then, I could escape the cloud of despair that hung over Draig Hearth.

The aftertaste of this tea, however, was different. Bitterness lingered on the back of my tongue.

My eyes snapped to hers, and they were…apologetic?

Black crept around the edges of my vision, and I blinked once, twice, swayed, and caught myself on Guardian’s foreleg.

“What…is this?” My words slurred.

My King? Guardian asked.

Aurum turned his head to him. Mother said he needs sleep.

Guardian growled, low and deep, shifting his attention to Iaso. Ewan stepped in front of her, but she gently pushed him to the side.

Drugged.

Panicked fire burned through the sedative in my veins. I rubbed my knuckles over my sternum, my breath uneven. For the first time in…ever, my irises lit Iaso’s face a fiery orange, my rage directed at her.

Scales spread over my skin, starting at my neck until my entire torso and arms were covered, protected from her , my own mother.

She drugged me.

Flashes of that night started in rapid succession. The heaviness in my limbs. The darkness in my vision. The splitting headache. My uselessness.

Ara. Gone.

Because I couldn’t protect her.

Because we were drugged.

Iaso drugged me.

She didn’t move. She didn’t flinch or gasp. She had no reaction at all, other than the tears gathering.

“You’re withering before my eyes,” she whispered. “You must eat. You must sleep. ”

My jaw clenched, my hard gaze remaining on her until disgust slithered through my veins—at her or myself, I wasn’t sure. Guardian lowered his wing, and I crawled onto his back on weak limbs, nausea rolling in my gut, the world spinning.

“Rogue.” Iaso scrambled to her feet and ran after us when Guardian took a large step away. “Rogue, please. Sleep. You have to sleep!”

Guardian took flight, leaving Iaso’s sobbing form on the ground far, far below.

I’ll sleep when Ara can sleep with me.

We went south, farther south than I’d ever been.

When we landed on the southern coast of Auryna, the air was crisp beneath the midnight stars, and I was in and out of consciousness from the agony in my wings.

Guardian tipped to the side, and I rolled off with a groan, landing on the sand. I lay flat on my back, breathing deeply as the icy, wet beach dulled the stabbing pain to an ache.

Where do we go from here?

“I’m not sure yet.” My voice came out hoarse and raw. “I never know what I’m fucking doing.”

I was floundering, drowning, while Ara was undoubtedly being hurt. Tortured.

I still couldn’t feel her, so she was most likely drugged.

She had to be drugged because the alternative was out of the question.

No, my Ara was alive. Captive, drugged, and hurt—but alive.

She better be fucking alive, or I was going to tear this realm apart, and everyone in it. No one would survive my destruction, not even me.

Roaring in my ears returned, so deafening, I could no longer hear the waves or the wind or Guardian. My muscles strained against my too-tight skin until scales burst all around me, and my skin tore down my back.

I shifted in the blink of an eye and roared, a deep guttural sound that shook the very ground we stood on. Liquid flames spewed from my mouth to consume the stars.

I burned.

My chest. My heart. My lungs. My soul.

The forest. The beach.

What was sand became a sea of molten glass. The steam of a boiling ocean coated the darkness in white fog.

Guardian had fled, but I remained, ankle deep in bright orange, glowing glass.

I wished I felt it.

I wished I burned with it.

I wished I felt anything other than this visceral, gut-wrenching agony in my chest where Ara should be.