Page 60 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ROGUE

H ow do I undo it?

Birds scattered, fleeing from the fire that spread in every direction. I didn’t bother dampening the flames.

“How do I undo it?” I screamed when Guardian came into view on the sky’s horizon.

I ripped my coat off, suddenly too hot, too confined. The fabric caught fire, burning up before it hit the ground. Embers floated into the air as Guardian landed in the clearing, tree tops swaying from the wind of his wings.

What do you mean?

“The blood oath. How do I undo it?”

He paused, shuffling his wings before tucking them in. You cannot, not without releasing every other oath attached.

“How do I do that?”

Your entire army ? —

“How do I undo the oath, Guardian?” My shirt burned away in a flash, leaving my chest bare as I unsheathed Ara’s dagger. “Do I have to cut it out? Is that it?”

Flames climbed my legs, consuming my shoes and the bottom half of my trousers. My hands, usually the first to scorch, were free of the fire, unwilling to melt Ara’s dagger.

No, King, but tell me what has happened. What has changed?

I clenched my jaw, my fist so tight around the metal, the dagger shook in my hand. The metal turned yellow, and I swore under my breath, flinging it straight down. It sank into the frozen ground like a hot knife through butter.

Running my hand over my forehead, my breaths grew uneven and shallow or—fuck, maybe there were flames in my lungs, too. Maybe I was only flame-resistant on the outside, because my chest burned like hell.

“She swore the oath,” I panted. “She moved so fucking fast, I couldn’t… I didn’t think she’d remember how to. I didn’t think she would do that.”

Why?

“She doesn’t want to kill me.” I released a breathy laugh and threw my hands out.

“She’d rather die. She doesn’t have her memories.

She doesn’t remember, and yet, she’s exactly the same.

” I stumbled away from Guardian. “But her oath didn’t feel like the others.

Her oath sank into the mark, but she didn’t say the words, so… what oath did she create?”

Talons slid from my fingertips. Teeth sharpened. Scales consumed my form bit by bit.

I stilled, panting, forcing the shift down as it was spurred on by my spiraling. Blood pounded in my ears, though, a constant roar that made it hard to think.

If you undo everything, Guardian said, all the work you’ve done ? —

“I don’t care about the work, the army, the kingdoms!

” The earth scorched in a fifty-foot radius, sending outlier trees of the forest up in flames as I jabbed a finger at the cave entrance.

“I care about her! If she’s not here, there’s nothing left for me, and she…she said do it for my people.

” I scoffed, shaking my head, then sucked in a heavy breath.

“Ravaryn deserves a better king than I will ever be, but I can’t bring myself to care.

Not really. Being crowned gave me purpose.

She gave me life, and I’ll be damned if I ever let her throw hers away.

I’d rather slit my own fucking throat right now and leave Ravaryn in her hands. ”

A branch snapped, and my head swiveled to see Iaso standing in a cloud of smoke at the treeline. Fire raged all around her, blackened ground beneath her, but she stood untouched, tears streaking her cheeks.

“My son,” she said, her voice cracking—a plea, a question, a raw ache.

The second I turned towards her, she sprinted at me full force, and we collided. My breath hitched as her arms circled my neck in a vise grip.

This was the first hug we’d shared in months. I wouldn’t let myself have this: family or comfort. I’d been selfish—devastated, but selfish, because I’d deprived her, too.

She held me at arm’s length, her hands on my shoulders as if I were a kid again. Her eyes glowed as she checked me over, but they stopped on the center of my chest. The mark stung and surged to life beneath her magic.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Several oaths.”

Aurum landed at Guardian’s side, his gold glimmering as bright as Iaso’s chest plate. My brows furrowed; I hadn’t noticed her armor. She hadn’t worn it since the Ten Year War ended, and to see her in it now filled me with unease. I hated it because she hated it: death, war, fighting.

“And Ara…She…?”

I stepped from under her hold. “She swore the oath—or an oath. She didn’t say the words, but her blood sank into the sun. The magic accepted it, whatever she swore.”

Aurum nudged her, and she stumbled to the side, running her hand over his snout as she gawked at me with wide eyes. “Did you not ask her what she swore?”

“No,” I huffed.

She pressed her lips into a flat line, swaying on her feet when Aurum bumped her again. “Why?”

“Because I was angry, Iaso. I didn’t stop to consider that she may have created a new oath tied to this mark. I was too preoccupied with the fact that she tried to sacrifice her life for mine.”

Of course, if she failed to swear the oath, I didn’t want her to know. I’d rather she thought she did; at least then she’d stop trying to leave or die.

When Aurum finally left her alone, Iaso stilled and pointed to the mark on my chest. “So, she tried to swear the blood oath you already tied to that mark? Why? What is it?”

The verbal oath rolled off my tongue, burned into my memory just like the six-pointed sun that tied them.

“By blade or lie, if betrayal comes, the betrayer will die. With this blood, the bond is sworn, and by this pact, death is born.” At the sound of trees collapsing, I swore and called the flames back.

“They can’t betray me, physically or verbally.

If she tries to kill me in her sleep again?—”

“Again?” Iaso shouted. “If she tries to kill you again ? We told you this could happen! She needs another guard, someone else?—”

“No.” Tension coiled in my chest, ready to burst. “There will be no one else. She’s my mate. She’s Ara, for Goddess’s sake.”

It was foolish, but I didn’t care, with or without the damned Fae flame. I wanted her near, and I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else being her guard. I was the only one who could touch her and keep her warm—she needed to stay warm.

She needed heat and safety and someone who lived and breathed for her. No one else could soothe her like I could. No one would put her first like I would.

After months of searching, I finally had her back, and if it wouldn’t send her down a spiral, I would’ve attached her to me by a fucking chain—and it wasn’t one-sided.

She sought me out only hours after I’d left. She wanted me, too.

“She’s not just Ara, though, is she?” Iaso asked quietly.

I held her gaze, fire thrashing beneath my too-tight skin. The shift clawed alongside it, and I rolled my shoulders, leashing them both. It wasn’t aimed at her, but fire didn’t discriminate. It was angry and hungry, and so was the beast snarling within my Fae form.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it? She’s sworn an oath, one she said would ‘save my life.’ She thinks she swore the same oath, but if she didn’t, then what the fuck is going to happen to her?”

“You said there were several oaths. Are they all tied to the one mark?” she asked, striding around me to check for more suns—but I matched her movement before she could see the mangled scars on my back.

“Yes,” I said, “they’re all tied to one.”

“How important are the other oaths?” She cocked her head, eyebrows lifted.

“Fairly important if you were willing to carry the mark. So important, you didn’t share it with us.

” Her gaze narrowed at Guardian. “Did the wyverns teach you? They must have, because I’ve not heard a whisper of the ancient practice in a damned millennia. What else are they teaching you?”

My jaw clenched, teeth grinding as my mind raced in circles. “Yes, they taught me. Yes, the oaths are important, but not more so than Ara’s life. If I have to release them all, then so be it. How do I undo the oath?”

Iaso bit her lip, eyes turned to the sky. A heartbeat passed, and I stalked back to Ara’s dagger and snatched it from the ground.

“Fine. We’ll start by removing it.” I pressed the tip of the dagger into the bottom point of the sun, gritted my teeth, and sliced upwards, following the line. Blood spilled down my chest and boiled atop my skin.

No. Guardian snapped his jaws within feet of my chest—to stun, not hurt.

Iaso didn’t know that, though, and she sprinted toward us, screaming, “No!”

Her mouth hung open, eyes slitted at Guardian before she turned to me with the same anger and took the dagger. “What is wrong with you, child? Do you really think blood magic could be so easily swayed?”

The wound sizzled and smoked, the scent horrid.

Iaso’s golden gaze ceased the bleeding. “To undo the oaths, you’d simply have to verbally release the oath takers from their vow. The mark would remain, but the oaths would not.”

“That’s it?” I asked, skeptical.

“It’s a ritual that involves every oath taker, but yes.” She bit the inside of her cheek, staring at the mark. “What if what she swore wasn’t the same, though? What if this new oath would save you and not kill her?”

“But we don’t know, and I’m not willing to take that chance.”

Iaso closed her eyes. “Calypso can tell us.”

My heart lurched with a jolt of anger, chased by regret. “No. How could you even suggest that? She’s not trustworthy—worse, she’s his mother , Iaso, and you’re…you’re his aunt.”

My eyes flashed, reflecting a fiery orange in her golden eyes. Guardian maneuvered behind me, his heavy footsteps shaking the earth until he stopped with his head over us, watching Iaso. Aurum shuffled around, oblivious to the rising tension.

“No, I’m your mother. Not his aunt. I’m not his anything.”

“You are by blood.”

“So are you.” Her irises swirled like molten gold. “But blood means nothing. You of all people know that.”

I sagged on an exhale, running a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I know you’re right, but I don’t trust her—I have no reason to trust her. I don’t want her around Ara at all.”