Page 53 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ROGUE

W e finished the trek to the cabin within an hour or so, the unofficial marker of our war camp, despite that it’d been discovered after we set up.

It wasn’t much, just the main room and one bedroom off to the side with a bathing chamber, but it had become a haven, warm with perpetual fires.

After checking the rooms, food, and supplies, I heated a mug of broth for Ara and handed it to her, then pulled every blanket from the closet, spotting the bed warmer on the bottom shelf, a leather bag filled with rice. I grabbed it too, heating it with my magic as I returned to the main room.

I set the stack of folded blankets on the small table, plucked the thickest one from the top, and covered Ara before I knelt and tucked the warmer beneath her feet, feeling her eyes on me the entire time.

With my hands on either side of her knees, I met her gaze. Her brows pulled together, both hands tight around the steaming mug.

“I have to go check in with my generals,” I said, low enough for only her ears. “Will you be all right here?”

Her lips parted. She blinked and took a sip of her broth. “Yes, of course.” Averting her gaze to her mother, she murmured a quiet, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I lingered for a moment, but when she didn’t look at me again, I gave her legs a quick tap and stood with a sigh. On my way to the door, I said a brief goodbye to the two other women, careful to avoid Edana’s gaze.

The door clicked shut behind me, the porch boards groaning under my weight. Frost clung to the railing, sparkling with the early morning sun, as I descended the two front steps.

I strode toward the war camp and blew out a deep breath, sending a wave of swirling white into the air, rubbing my knuckles over my sternum.

Fuck, I’m tired. My entire body hurt, my damned shoulder sore and stiff as a board. While Ara had saved me from bleeding out, even she wasn’t a miracle worker, and the ache remained.

I halted, dropping my head into my hands.

Adonis knew she was alive.

He’d come to kill me when he thought she was dead, just as I’d expected, but the sight of her stopped him in his tracks. He saw her alive and ran, leaving us both alive.

He wasn’t after Ravaryn’s throne—not just the throne. If he were, he would’ve killed Ara and me the first chance he had.

He needed us for some Goddess-forsaken reason, and I had a feeling it was for more than his sick amusement.

A war for power could be anticipated. It was the oldest game in the book, especially when started by the eldest brother who felt he was robbed of a crown, but ulterior motives were as dangerous as they were unpredictable.

With another deep breath, I dropped my hand and continued. The cabin sat roughly half a mile from the camp, and Adonis attacked just two miles south—uncomfortably close.

My only comfort was that he couldn’t see the camp with his own eyes, and he couldn’t understand the wyvern language. He wouldn’t know that he was mere miles from Ravaryn’s largest army, hidden beneath a blood oath like Canyon.

He’d compelled the navy wyvern to bring him to me—to fight his brethren. Their deeply rooted moral code forbade harming another wyvern or their chosen king, yet he’d been forced to do both.

He’d been forced to break one of their most fundamental and sacred beliefs, and the toll it took on him did not go unnoticed.

Any word? I asked Guardian. He and two more wyverns had settled on the outskirts of the encampment within the spell’s border, so they could keep an eye on the skies without being seen if Adonis returned.

Guardian’s grief slipped through before his words, and I tripped over my own feet.

Is he ? —

No, Guardian said. No, he’s alive. I mourn for his suffering, as it is all of ours to bear. He’s returned to the Hearth. For now.

My shoulders sagged on an exhale.

Turning my mind to the navy wyvern, I winced at the magnitude of turmoil on his end. Return when you are ready and well, if you want to. I’m here if you need anything, but remember, it wasn’t you. You did nothing wrong.

He heard me but didn’t respond at first. When his reply came, it wasn’t in words.

Flashes of their home island, snow and fire, pools of lava against chunks of ice in a thrashing sea flitted behind my eyelids.

My heart sank when another wyvern came into view, much smaller than him—a baby with smooth cobalt skin.

It bounded around him, slept beneath his wings, crawled up and over, nipped at anything he could, chirping and chittering.

He almost lost his father because of my recklessness. I will not be reckless again.

My fists clenched at my sides, fire sparking in my veins. The frozen ground thawed beneath my feet, then scorched. Not your recklessness. Mine. I’ll do better, I swear to you.

He started to pull away but paused, his voice a distant echo. Bits and pieces of what I did—what he did with my body have been coming back slowly. He didn’t know Ara was alive when we came after you. He was trying to kill you. Not capture. Kill.

I stomped out the fire spreading from my feet. Why is it only now that he thought Ara was dead that he saw fit to kill me?

Heavy silence hung between us before he finally said, Perhaps I will see more in the days to come.

Thank you, and I’m sorry.

Do not apologize for something that was not your doing.

It wasn’t my doing, but it was my fault all the same. His denial was imminent, but before he could reply, I finished with, Now, go spend time with your child. I’ll be here when you’re ready—if you ever are. If you wish to stay on the Hearth, then stay. Be where you need, for however long you need.

I closed my mind off from all of them and let the guilt crash into me so viciously, I doubled over and braced my hands on my knees.

I hadn’t stopped to consider if Adonis could manipulate them, too. Had I known…

What? What would I have done? What could I have done?

Ara was the only one who could do anything to combat his magic, and that fact had knots wrenching in my gut.

If it were up to me, she’d be as far from him as physically possible, hidden, unreachable, and safe, but Goddess knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Ara’s choice was her own, and no matter how much I wished she’d be selfish and choose herself for once, just one measly time, she wouldn’t.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind this was where she’d stay: right in the middle of it all.

Bile rose in my throat, my chest tight.

She’d been forced to the middle over and over again—when Elora married Evander, when I kidnapped her, when her true father was revealed—but at some point, she’d chosen to stay, to fight, to be a part of this.

As her bravery grew, she became invincible, and Goddess be damned, I admired her for it. She was brave—brave and powerful with the determination of an ox and the willpower of a thousand men, all while still having a heart.

She was truly remarkable, a force of nature, and it fucking killed me to see how much pain she was in. I would rather rip my heart out with a dull, rusty knife and offer it to her on a silver platter than watch her suffer.

Adonis had to die, if only for her sake, for her peace.

Exhaling a slow breath, I forced myself to stand and square my shoulders. I focused on air, in and out, calming myself before I burned down the surrounding forest. Flames licked up my forearms, singeing the sleeves rolled to my elbow.

I’d left Ara to spend the morning with her mother—and mine, a fact I’d yet to digest—because she needed a moment of reprieve. She needed a bed and fire, not tents and snow and soldiers.

I just hoped Edana’s presence was a welcome one, or at the very least, not a hindrance. Ara and Elora needed time together to thaw, eat, and rest in peace, but Edana didn’t seem like a peaceful person, not that I blamed her. I held the fire of rage, too, sparked and stoked by Adrastus’ hands.

While I should probably feel some degree of regret for our last interaction, I didn’t. I was harsh, yes, but I didn’t say anything untrue, and she’d been equally as harsh, her words wielded to slice deep.

There was a time when they would’ve struck their intended target with ease, but even now, there wasn’t so much as a sting. My invisible wounds didn’t bleed—a new development that had the corners of my mouth tipping up in a smile.

I saw them for what they were: a shield. She lashed out, her tongue a weapon, because I’d ripped open a wound she hadn’t realized she bore, and she didn’t know how to staunch the pain.

Hurt people hurt people, and Edana was hurt.

Edana. My mother.

Mother?

I mulled it over in my head and grimaced. It didn’t feel right. She birthed me, but Iaso raised me—I did feel regret for my last conversation with her.

I couldn’t decide how to feel toward Edana. She hadn’t chosen to leave me, yet she didn’t choose to have me, either. Of all the vile things Adrastus did in his lifetime, none were worse than what he forced her to endure.

Perhaps she would have been happier without her memories…

I sighed. She absolutely would’ve been happier.

With a grimace, I flattened my palm over my sternum, a twinge of guilt flaring, and looked up to the sky. Thick clouds rolled in, stray snowflakes drifting down to settle on the evergreen branches.

I’d taken my time to the camp, but as I drew near the spell’s border, the sun carved into my chest burned hotter, calling for its counterpart. I’d tied several oaths to this one mark with a delicately entwined spell courtesy of the wyverns, and the camp was only one aspect.

Like Canyon, what lay within remained hidden from the outside world, but unlike Canyon, the mark wasn’t carved into the land itself.

It wasn’t bound to one location. Not only could I move the cloaking spell at will, but I’d also blocked the use of magic within its borders.

On the off chance that Adonis did stumble upon it, he wouldn’t be able to sneak his wretched magic in.