Page 70 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

Tension coiled in my chest. “An ancient belief of what ?”

Iaso drew her bottom lip between her teeth, spinning on her heel and disappearing into the shelves.

Ewan’s head darted between her and the rest of us before he took off after her, Rogue’s hand slipping from mine as he moved to follow.

Calypso let out a soft chuckle, and I strode after them, though Alden’s words echoed in my mind.

I pivoted to the back of the library.

In the dead of night, the rest of the library slept in shadows. Sporadic oil lamps flickered here and there, but the darkness consumed the light as I continued forward.

It stretched on farther than I realized, much larger than my mind could conjure. Shelves upon shelves, each one dustier than the last. More alarming, however, was the way plush carpets, ancient wood, and infinite texts absorbed sound. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the library was empty.

I slowed to a stop to listen.

Nothing. Not a footstep or voice.

Only my heavy breathing, thumping heart, and the rain growing heavier outside.

I swallowed and glanced over my shoulder.

A maze of shelves stood at my back, identical to those in front of me.

It was so dark, cold seeped into the air away from the lit fireplace.

So dark, the books started to blur into stones, and suddenly, I couldn’t tell if I was up here or down in the dungeon.

“If you feel afraid, you’re in the right direction.”

Forcing my eyes wide open, too afraid to blink, I inhaled a deep breath and flattened a hand over my sternum as I continued forward one slow step at a time.

Is it growing colder?

My next exhale was a cloud of white, barely visible, and unease slithered down my spine. The skin on the back of my neck prickled.

Eyes.

I felt eyes.

The feelers of my magic snapped out in every direction, racing across the floor in search of life—they didn’t have to go far. Quick footsteps grew closer, eating up the remaining distance to my back.

I swiveled on my heel, a scream stuck in my throat as a hand covered my mouth. I thrashed, swatting at the arms holding me, shouting into their palm. Electricity popped and cracked from my skin onto my attacker’s.

“Open your eyes, little storm.”

I stilled, heart pounding in my ears, adrenaline seeping from my body until my muscles trembled, tired and weak. I peeled my eyes open, not having realized they were closed, and found Rogue with ropes of lightning crackling around his throat and down his arms.

He pulled his hand from my mouth. “Why are you screaming?”

“I thought…” I glanced around, finding nothing but dimly lit shelves, the books here much older than those near the entrance.

Spines wrapped in decrepit leather and faded fabric lined the shelves, some smaller than my hand, others larger than my head.

“It was dark, and I thought… It doesn’t matter.

” I swatted his arms. “What were you thinking sneaking up on me like that? You scared the daylights out of me.”

He shook his head and slid a finger beneath my chin, tipping my face up, his eyes flitting between mine. “You were scared. More than scared, terrified. I felt you starting to panic. Why?”

“It’s dark,” I admitted, shame burning in my cheeks. “Cold.”

He clicked his tongue and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “You are light, Ara. If it’s too dark, simply shine brighter.”

My brows furrowed, and he lifted his hand. Ropes of shimmering energy coiled around his wrist and climbed his arms, but they faded into obscurity as he cupped the nape of my neck.

He kissed my forehead before lowering his mouth to my ear and whispering, “You don’t have to accept the darkness.”

He held me to his chest as he looked down the aisle of endless books, and I peered over my shoulder. It went on far enough that shadows swallowed the end.

A shiver ran down my spine. “I was trying to find the room.”

“I’m not aware of any rooms off the library, other than the shifting room, but that’s not exactly the back.”

“There has to be.” I turned in his hold, so my back sealed to his front, his arm hooked over my shoulders. “He wouldn’t have said that otherwise, and the exact information we need might lie inside…but why does the air feel wrong here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a ward or spell of some sort? Stryath’s office in the shifting room has that bloodline ward, so only shifting Drakis can even see it. Maybe this is similar, but serving a different purpose.”

“A ward to keep people away.”

“Do you think Alden created the room and ward, or simply found it?”

“Found,” I said. “Definitely found.”

Rogue’s chest rose on a deep inhale. “Well, should we push forward?”

I pulled my lips between my teeth. Every instinct screamed an astounding no, but I forced out a quiet, “Yes.”

We didn’t move for a few moments.

“How far could the library go on?” I asked. “It couldn’t be much more.”

“We could just run. Sprint as hard as we can to the end before we lose our nerve entirely.”

“This is ridiculous.” I scoffed but still held onto his arm with both hands. “The answer to our biggest problem could lie in there, and we’re standing here.”

That fear, though, the wrongness that slithered down my spine, setting my nerves alight, kept my feet rooted in place. A sweat broke out along my forehead.

“Let’s just go in one,” I said.

My heart thundered.

“Two.”

A heavy knot settled in my gut.

“Three.”

We ran like our lives depended on it, and it felt like they did as the fear thickened. My limbs shook, my thighs weak.

Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.

We didn’t stop until we practically crashed into a wall, and that was all there was: an old stone wall with no door or latch. There wasn’t even a window. No special markings or symbols.

I leaned forward on my knees as I fought the urge to vomit. “This is the deepest point in the library, right?”

Rogue braced himself on a shelf, face ashen. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Either we’re wrong, or he is.”

Still catching his breath, he released a chuckle, his mouth curved in a lopsided grin. “That is a bitch of a ward.”

“We’re so brave,” I mocked, a laugh bubbling up.

“Rogue?” Iaso’s voice carried. “Ara?”

I faced the wall and studied it. There weren’t even any cracks or crevices in the stone. Nothing to indicate there was anything more behind it.

“It has to be the wrong aisle,” I muttered.

“Down here,” Rogue shouted back to Iaso. “We’re coming.”

As we returned, the ward was nonexistent, so it only affected those going in, not out.

Light poured from the lit fireplace, seeping around the shelves like a beacon, and we followed it to the group. We slid in front of the fire, and my entire body relaxed a fraction. I hadn’t realized how frozen my extremities felt until the warmth stung my fingers.

“Find anything?” Iaso asked as she lugged a stack of books to the table.

“A ward,” Rogue answered. “Not much else.”

She dropped the books with a loud thud. “Oh, that’s not a ward. That’s Stryath’s wife.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Well, it’s similar to a ward, I suppose,” she went on, “but she didn’t like visitors, and for some reason, she felt the need to guard the area even after her death. She had a room somewhere back there.”

“That’s where Alden said he stumbled upon the knowledge of the weapon.”

“Goddess help us.” Iaso planted her hands on either side of the stack and closed her eyes. “Are you nearby, Alden? Sure could use your help right about now.”

My head swiveled in every direction, though I knew I wouldn’t find him, even if he were here. Iaso resumed with her books, counting the number of books, but a strange pull drew my attention back to the corner. I squinted into the dark, narrow space between two shelves, but I didn’t see anyone.

Something—some one hovered there. Not Delphia. The energy was too low, too distant, nearly undetectable.

I blinked and caught a glimpse of gray robes.

A familiar smile.

A quick nod.

Then, he was gone.

“Ara?” Iaso asked.

Blinking rapidly, I shook my head and met her golden eyes. They glowed faintly, and a different warmth than Rogue’s flowed into my chest. I hadn’t realized my rib cage still felt constricted until it suddenly didn’t.

My shoulders sagged on an exhale.

Vines descended from the ceiling, and my head tipped back, jaw slack, as they formed a web above us. Iaso hooked a lantern on each one she could reach, motioning for Rogue to light them as she went.

“Magic is an odd thing,” Godrick whispered, his wide eyes tracking a thick, emerald vine as it lowered near him, a bud forming on its length.

When it reached Iaso’s height, she looped the vine through the lantern’s handle, and the bud bloomed into a purple star flower.

“I don’t believe I’ll ever get used to it. ”

When the room was nearly bright as day, she lifted the first book and read the title on the spine before tossing it to Calypso, who caught it with a grunt, holding her wine up to prevent spillage.

“It’s a resurrection ritual,” Iaso said, “or the closest man has ever come to one.”