Page 69 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

ARA

I tipped my head toward the window. The moon descended on the horizon, its silver light kissing the waves and windowsill, reaching over the floor of the library.

It’d been over half a day.

Too much had happened, too much, too fast.

First, I met Godrick and realized I’d seen him before. He owned the tavern, Honeyed, in Canyon—the very same one that we met Drakyth in, who was also aboard Ewan’s ship. Drakyth Draki wasn’t dead; he was wingless, like his two grandsons, but not dead.

He and Godrick had known each other for quite some time, and together, they’d kept Vaelor’s Sanctuary running within the confines of Canyon’s borders.

Godrick was as kind as I expected from the stories Mother told me the hour before, though he was funnier than I anticipated, much like Alden in that regard.

Oh, and Livvy was my cousin. That bit of knowledge had been followed by squeals and screams that Godrick and Mother watched; I could only imagine how many similar moments Mother and her sister, Alivia, shared—moments Godrick witnessed.

Everything following that revelation crushed me into an anxiety-riddled haze.

We convened in the library with Iaso, Ewan, Lee, and Godrick. When Calypso showed up, Rogue let out a long sigh.

As soon as we arrived, Lee unrolled a map large enough to nearly cover the table.

He placed candles throughout it, and the map came to life.

Rogue and I stepped closer, squinting at what appeared to be…

moving pieces. Mountains protruded from the paper.

Rivers flowed. A wyvern moved across the land, but more importantly, a battalion of human men marched along a worn path outside of Capitol.

A blurred shadow hovered in the valley of Rogue’s Bloodsworn, but no one else seemed to notice—yet.

Rogue leaned over the table, jaw slack. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I had it commissioned in Canyon,” Lee said with a proud grin. “I figured it might come in handy.”

Before anyone could answer, the fireplace sparked and spat out a letter.

Rogue tensed as it floated in the air toward him.

He clenched his jaw and unfolded it. His eyes flitted across the page, chest rising and falling quickly until orange sparks licked at his skin.

He tossed the letter to the table before it caught fire.

“What is it?” I asked.

Flames swirled in his eyes. “I wrote to the astronomers a few weeks ago, asking when the next liminal moon is, because according to my wyverns, that is the one night a century they revert to beasts. They’ll be unreachable.”

A sense of dread settled in my gut. “And?”

He drew in a deep breath to calm his magic, lifted the letter, and read it aloud.

King Draki,

I hope this letter finds you well—or well enough. We do so appreciate your faith in our ability and knowledge.

While you didn’t elaborate on your inquiry, I deduced the urgency of your situation, to which I must warn: be careful. Mind your minds, and guard yourselves. Anyone searching for a liminal moon cannot be searching for anything good.

The next liminal moon will coincide with the winter solstice.

Please let us know if we can be of any further assistance.

I choked out, “ This year’s winter solstice?”

“The liminal moon only occurs once a millennium,” Iaso breathed, “and we caught this one a measly eleven days prior.”

“It can’t be a coincidence,” Rogue said. “Adonis must’ve known.”

Adonis’s plan had to hinge on this celestial event—and we had eleven days to unravel exactly what that plan was.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, my thumb running over my wrist, the familiar burn in my lungs starting.

Eleven nauseating days.

It only made sense that Adonis planned to keep me until then—for what purpose, I wasn’t sure, but that was what he’d promised, “Not much longer.”

My lips twitched with a smile, despite the metallic tinge as I bit through the thin skin and the worsening burn in my chest. My escape, so close to the pivotal moment of his plan, must have been such an infuriating gut punch.

Rogue ran his fingertips up and down my spine as he asked, “What is the liminal moon exactly?”

I fought for air and looked to Iaso expectantly, but it was Calypso who answered.

“The darkest night of the millennium,” she said, “a sailor’s nightmare, and it’ll conveniently overlap with the longest night of the year.” She twirled a quill between her fingers. “It’s an eclipse of sorts. The moon will flicker and fade from the sky, and when it’s gone, the veil thins.”

Throat suddenly parched, I grabbed a nearby glass of wine and swallowed a large gulp. “We’ll be on the battlefield.”

Rogue’s hand stilled on my back, his other planted on the table, fingers splayed and sleeves rolled.

“The Goddess told me,” I continued. “We must meet him on the battlefield when the veil thins and stars fall.”

Rogue’s jaw clenched, tendons cording in his forearms. “Not if we kill him beforehand.”

I nodded but swallowed more wine, brows furrowed. He slid his finger beneath my chin and tipped my head back until I was forced to meet his gaze. “We will find the weapon, and we will kill him.”

No room for doubt.

I nodded again and set the wine glass down. “I know.”

“Is that all she said?” Iaso asked.

The Goddess’s words were hazy, but fragmented sentences floated in my mind: the battlefield, the veil thinning, stars falling… “With severance. We must meet him with severance because he’ll meet us with…” My mouth came to a slow halt, ears ringing.

“What?” Rogue asked gently.

“With sacrifice,” I murmured. “He’ll meet us with sacrifice.”

“No,” Rogue seethed. “No, she’s either wrong or she doesn’t mean the weapon. He’s already tried to kill me once. I’m sure it’s only a warning that he means to try again.”

“Sacrifice?” Calypso breathed. Her eyes flickered back and forth as if she were watching a scene play out in front of her before they darted to Iaso. “Sacrifice…under the liminal moon? When the veil thins and stars fall?”

Iaso slowly shook her head with a halfhearted laugh. “No, that was merely a story, a legend, a?—”

My eyes closed for a beat. “Every legend has its roots in some seed of truth.”

I snatched the wine glass up and downed the rest of it.

“What is it?” Rogue asked, but Calypso disregarded him.

She looked to me instead, releasing a bark of laughter. “Oh, sweet storm bringer, best begin your prayers now. Pray to the Goddess, pray to fate herself?—”

“No,” Iaso snapped, her irises burning nearly as bright as her mother’s sun. Calypso sealed her lips and raised her hands in front of her. “No, Adonis will die before that night.”

“What does it mean, Iaso?” Rogue asked slowly, each word deliberate. “The liminal moon, sacrifice, a storm bringer—what do they mean?”

Iaso’s jaw clenched, her throat bobbing. Her attention turned to me, and I froze. She’d never looked at me with such…uncertainty before, bordering on defensive. She looked at me like I was the threat.

The room grew hotter, a faint waft of smoke swirling as Rogue stepped between us, head tipped to the side. “Iaso.”

“Death,” she said. “It would mean your death.”

“That is not going to happen,” I shouted. Lightning cracked outside, a flash of bright white, followed by the dull roar of rain. “Not by my hands or any other’s. Not that I ever would, but I can’t kill Rogue. I can’t hurt him at all. The blood oath prevents it.”

Iaso took several breaths before looking at Calypso who shrugged. Godrick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and the wooden table beneath Lee’s grip creaked before a crack shot clear to the other side. Doran did what he always did: stood by and watched.

But my eyes fell to the table, unseeing as the puzzle pieces finally came together.

I blinked. Blinked again.

Words were being spoken, but blood roared in my ears, heart thundering—or perhaps real thunder rumbled and shook the ground I stood on.

The liminal moon, a storm bringer, his death…

My memories.

My fingers curled into tight fists.

Adonis didn’t want me to remember Rogue.

Because he did intend to kill Rogue.

He intended for me to kill Rogue.

My nails cut into my palms, and Doran’s wide eyes clashed with mine, chest heaving. He smelled the few droplets of blood.

“You didn’t hear a word of this?”

“No.” Doran took a subtle step back, nostrils flared.

“No, I wasn’t particularly…aware for the majority of my time down there.

All he talked about was”—he grimaced—“you. He only mentioned the Winter Solstice to me once when I asked how much longer he planned to keep you. I got you out the next day.”

For some Goddess-forsaken reason, be it naivety, delusion, or plain foolishness, I believed him, and I trusted him. Lee and Ewan regarded him with suspicion, but Iaso’s expression held nothing but pity, and that told me all I needed to know.

Heat radiated from Rogue, his muscles taut as a bowstring, light escaping from his tight fists.

I looped my hand through his elbow, and he slowly relaxed as I traced down the center of his forearm, a faint wisp of smoke swirling up between us.

Interlacing our fingers, I lifted his hand and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it.

“I’ve never seen such a young Puer Mortis before. You reek of chaos.” Calypso clutched her goblet to her chest, her gaze perusing Doran’s form before she leaned closer. “Chaos and lust. Though I suppose it’s not for flesh, is it?”

When he didn’t acknowledge her remark, she laughed, a cruel sound that grated my nerves, and my mouth snapped open, a hundred angry words on the tip of my tongue, but they stuck in my throat when Iaso slammed her hands on the table.

“Stop,” she shouted. “Just…stop. This just became much more precarious. We need to kill him, and we need to do it now .”

“What’s the correlation?” Rogue asked more forcibly this time. “Why does it mean my death?”

“It’s an ancient belief,” Iaso nearly whispered.

Calypso filled her goblet to the brim and took a sip. “Not one I’ve ever seen succeed.”