Page 88 of The Last One Standing (Rogue X Ara #4)

“Yes,” she said grimly. “It wasn’t meant to be a ritual, but I realized what I’d done when Adonis grew older, angrier, hungrier.

When he found the book…” Her gaze fell to the floor.

“When he began his persecution, I realized my grave mistake, but it was too late. Foretelling the prophecy set itself in motion.”

My nails dug into the armrest. Power surged in my veins, both mine and Rogue’s, and smoke wafted around my hand as I scorched the fabric.

“What’s written in the book isn’t all of it, though. The veil walker wanted a ritual, not a ‘useless prophecy,’ so he left out the last few lines.” She flattened her lips and turned to Mors. “I should’ve had you eat the bastard.”

Fate swatted Destiny’s arm as she said, “You need to read it in its entirety, dear.”

Minutes later, all four of us leaned over a framed piece of crumbling parchment. It looked to be over a millennium old, held together by nothing but the frame and sheer luck, the once black ink faded to gray.

When She slumbers and death beckons,

The veil will thin, so life can walk.

The silver-eyed Moon must rise, heart torn,

And the Sun, a soul of fire, will burn bright—burn out

As the Fallen eclipses, reborn.

In trembling hands rests the fate of all,

Bloodied by Sacrifice, broken by Severance,

On the night when stars fall.

The moon must strike true,

Extinguish her heart,

And plunge into darkness.

Only then can new light break, and dawn renew.

From the ashes, her world born anew.

My mouth and throat were so dry, it felt like I’d swallowed ash. I needed water, tea, anything—alcohol. I needed a real drink.

My hand covered my lips as I read it again and again in a new light. Bile rose in my throat.

Adonis had called me his silver-eyed moon once.

I swallowed my disgust to ask, “Is Adonis the Fallen?”

Destiny’s throat bobbed. “No, sweet child. He’s not.”

Wait.

My thoughts came to a screeching halt, heart hammering too loudly for me to hear anything else. I shook my head. Opened and closed my mouth.

“The first half is the transfer of life. Not a ritual, per se, but…”

No, wait.

I stared at her face until it blurred, and flames erupted in my lungs. I flattened a hand over my sternum.

“A prophecy,” I croaked and staggered away from the table. “Adonis will bring him back to life, and—wait. Is that a prophecy foretelling I will sacrifice Rogue to save the world?”

A ritual was one thing, but a prophecy…

A loud laugh burst from my lips.

“Oh, I won’t do that. If that is what the fate of the world relies on, then…” I threw my arms out to the side, shaking my head.

I’d never felt more ready to sit back and let the world tear itself apart.

Rogue had done enough. Sacrificed enough.

“Dying in battle against a tyrant is one thing, not desirable but not inevitable, either,” I seethed.

“But to be marked from the start, destined to die, so the world can have a better life? No. That’s not sacrifice.

That’s cruelty wrapped in a prophecy I will not be fulfilling.

If fate demands that kind of price, then it can burn with the rest of us. ”

Mors and Fate stood, lips parted, arms hanging limp, but Destiny tried to follow me around the table. She lifted a hand to me, mouth open to spew more nonsense.

“Don’t.” I backed away until my knees hit the couch Rogue slept on. “I won’t kill him. Then, what? Everyone dies? The world ends? It doesn’t matter. I’ll meet my family in the realm of the dead while the world crumbles to ash.”

Destiny’s forehead wrinkled. “It’s not like that. It?—”

Fate placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head in a silent no to her sister. Turning to me, she asked, “Did you read the last lines?”

“Only then can new light break, and dawn renew,” I recited. “From the ashes, her world born anew.”

“There is light at the end of the tunnel,” Fate assured. “We can’t know exactly what it entails until it comes to fruition, but there is light.”

“Did you not hear me?” I jabbed a finger at Rogue. “If he dies, the world might as well die, too. It wouldn’t be worth living in without him.” The ground rumbled with distant thunder, my eyes bright and crackling. “If he dies, I will tear the world apart myself.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rogue rasped.

I spun and sank to my knees at his side. He sat up slowly with a sleepy grin and pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

“I met Vaelor.” He glanced at the other three standing nearby. “Whatever Mors gave me put me in such a deep sleep, I either made it through the veil, or my mind opened enough to hear Vaelor’s voice.”

Mors lifted a finger. “The latter.”

Rogue glared at him, his chest heaving with a deep breath. “They’ve been working over there, too.”

“What did he tell you?” I asked.

“Alden was researching the ritual, wandering around here actually until he returned to Draig Hearth—he did push you—but while he was here, he found that.” He gestured to the framed parchment on the table and scanned their faces again. “Which, I see, you’re already aware of.”

“It’s not a ritual,” I whispered, my voice suddenly shaky. “It’s a prophecy.”

He looped his hand through mine and kissed the scar at my wrist, his brow furrowed. “Vaelor has been watching Adonis since the moment you returned to the realm of the living. He knows— I know it’s him that Adonis plans to resurrect.”

My lip quivered, my breath leaving me on a whoosh, but what broke my heart was the resignation on his face.

I had hoped he wouldn’t find out, because it didn’t matter. It wasn’t going to happen, and that was the same reason I hadn’t told Mother, either.

Before we said our goodbyes, I explained every gritty, horrifying detail of everything we’d come to realize, except that Adonis wanted to trade Rogue’s life for Vaelor’s, because I knew her.

She would never let that happen. She’d never let me go through what she did, but that would mean she’d spend the rest of her life knowing what could’ve been.

She still didn’t remember Adonis’s involvement in Vaelor’s death, and for her to understand why he would do this, I’d have to unleash that horror, too, and expose another raw wound.

I wouldn’t torture her like that.

I didn’t want Rogue to be tortured like this.

“It’s not going to happen,” I promised, cupping his cheek.

Wisps of pain rose in my chest and solidified into breath-stealing stabs—Rogue’s heartbreak. My jaw clenched as I tried to breathe through it.

“I’m sorry,” Rogue whispered, his expression pained.

“It is not going to happen,” I ground out. “It’s not.”

“Well, regardless,” Fate said, “despite what happens or how it happens, you’ll need Severance.”

I whirled to her. The sharp pain in my chest eased, but the ache remained. I rubbed over my heart with one hand, the other still tightly laced through Rogue’s.

“You have it?” I asked.

“No, but I believe I’ve found where it is.”