The First Loss: Vaelor x Elora (Rogue X Ara Book 3)

Chapter 19

Ihad admitted I wanted her seven days ago. Seven painfully long days ago, I watched her brilliant blue eyes shift from excitement to disappointment.

Then, I’d left her again, and the disgusting pit in my gut was torturous, reforming each and every time I thought of her and that night.

The damned tonic I used to keep the mate bond in check had burned off when I traveled through the lightning. I should have anticipated that, although it didn’t truly matter. I couldn’t have let her fall to her death. I had to catch her, regardless of the tonic.

And damn it all, if she didn’t pick up on the change right away. She wanted to push. She wanted me to snap, and I nearly had. I had nearly given her everything she wanted.

And for some unfathomable reason, what she wanted was…me.

Fuck.

I dropped my head to my hand, the midday sunshine bright overhead and bouncing off the waves. Sea mist sprayed over us, cool against my heated skin.

“Hey, you all right?” Ewan shouted.

I immediately dropped my hand to adjust the back stay traveler. The doublehanders required two people to steer, no more and no less, hence why Ewan and I had favored them for centuries—our favorite getaway.

We pulled and leaned, shifting the sails in the direction of the island.

When the boat slid onto the sand, we grabbed our bags, hopped off, and dragged it onto shore before finding the hidden staircase in the cliff face. Already tired and sweating, we moved slower than usual but eventually made it to the top.

The grassy plateau was utterly beautiful, an ocean of green, pastel flowers rippling in the breeze like waves. The sparring circle held the only patch of dirt with no vegetation, surrounded by boulders, created by my father all those years ago.

We dropped our bags onto the ground, and Ewan’s clanked with metal on metal. I swiveled around to gawk at it before meeting his gaze and lifting a brow. With one sword strapped to my hip, I thought I’d already been outnumbered by the two strapped to his.

He shrugged. “I didn’t know what we’d want to practice with today.”

“So, what? You brought it all?”

He laughed and plopped down on a stone to pull out a canteen. “Pretty much.”

After he took a swig, he tossed it to me, and I swiped it out of the air. I lifted it to my lips and took a long pull before choking on the burning liquid. “What the?—”

Ewan stifled a laugh. “Oh, did you think that was water?”

“What is it?” It wasn’t the Fae rum we normally drank, that was certain.

“Some combination of tea and whiskey.” He shuffled through his bag and pulled out a fucking mace, the ball of it tipped with shinning spikes. He spun his wrist to swing it in a circle before facing me with a growing smile. “I honestly couldn’t tell ya.”

My eyes widened; I wasn’t sure they’d ever been wider. “What do you mean you couldn’t tell me?”

He shrugged again and said, “Iaso,” as if that was answer enough.

I didn’t have the chance to question further or choke him like I wanted to, because he swung at me. I rolled to the side, noticing another handle sticking out of his massive bag. I should’ve realized what he brought based on size alone.

I snatched the weapon and pulled out a… “Machete? Really?”

“We always practice swords.” When he swung this time, I blocked, my blade cutting into the wooden shaft of his weapon. We were mere inches from each other, and he wiggled his brows. “This is infinitely more exciting.”

I cracked a smile. He wasn’t wrong.

Sweat rolled down my forehead,and I wiped it away with the back of my hand, taking another swig of the mysterious concoction from Iaso. After tasting it a few times, I’d come to the conclusion that the tea mixed in was the tonic she used to prevent the aftereffects of alcohol, which was…genius, to say the least.

I handed the canteen back to Ewan. “I’m leaving for Rainsmyre this evening.” A decision I hadn’t made until this past hour.

He cocked a brow at me. “To see Drakyth?”

I nodded. Ewan didn’t know of the Sanctuary, and neither did Iaso. I’d kept my mouth sealed, and while Iaso made the multitude of tonics for Drak to keep on hand, she didn’t know why. She’d stopped asking questions when she realized I wasn’t going to answer them.

I didn’t want them involved in any way. It was dangerous—for the people who stayed there and my small family—so Drakyth and I had decided long ago that it would stay between the two of us. Even he was reluctant to be involved until I brought Adon home.

I still remembered that day like it was yesterday.

It’d been raining, the streets of Rainsmyre muddy, the stench of decaying fish and filth thick in the humid air. Iaso, Ewan, and I had been there to follow through with our “happy plan,” as Iaso had named it.

During our visit months prior, she’d grown uneasy, covering her mouth and nose as we walked through the town, but not because of the fishing village stench we all abhorred. No, she’d said she smelled misery, the heavy scent of depression clinging to the people. After that, it didn’t take us long to concoct our “happy plan.” We were going to bring music and good food to the town—good being the operative word. We couldn’t change their careers or how laborious it was, but we could offer them this much.

It took a few months of hashing out details with the taverns, inns, and housing owners, but eventually, we came to an agreement, and that was why we’d been there that day: to set up free housing for all musicians and kick start the cook-off, in the hopes that Rainsmyre would find the best of the best and become a music hot spot. The top three winners of the cook-off would be guaranteed a well-paying job at the most frequented taverns, and a stipend had been established to pay for housing for a full year—for both chefs and musicians—so they could get settled.

The people needed a touch of happiness; they needed something, anything, to offset the hard labor and lift their spirits.

After countless meetings and several handshakes, I’d left to meet with Drakyth, excusing myself for a walk while Ewan and Iaso went to supper. I headed toward Drak’s estate and took the path that followed the sea, which coincidentally went right by the piers.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted a group of children hiding under one of the taller boardwalks. They sat in the sand, faint giggling coming from the younger ones while the older ones rolled marbles or dice. A few chewed on the parts of fish that fishermen disposed of, but all of the kids were skin and bone, their clothing tattered and dirty.

Orphans, either by death or abandonment.

One, no older than thirteen, met my gaze, his eyes a reddish brown and hair black. His expression turned from confusion to shock, and he dropped the fish bones in his hands to bolt. For some reason I didn’t quite understand, I sprinted after him. He ran straight for the most crowded street, weaving through people and behind carts, like he knew it all like the back of his hand.

He glanced over his shoulder as he knocked over a bucket of apples. They rolled onto the ground and into the street, echoed by the shouts of a few people falling to their asses.

I merely jumped over them, narrowly avoiding hitting the cart owner as I pulled a large gold coin from my pocket and tossed it to him. “Sorry!”

He caught it gratefully and shot me a toothless smile, waving it in the air as he turned to his companions. They grumbled, vocalizing their wish that it’d been their carts to overturn, but their voices faded out as I followed the kid into a damned alleyway, spotting him halfway up the far wall. I sprinted faster, but the stones were slick with algae and runoff, and I nearly slipped more than once.

He hooked his arm over the top of the wall and flashed me a smile when he pulled himself up.

“Who are you?” I shouted. Only a few more feet. “Damn it all, why are you running?”

“Why are you chasing, Vaelor?” he replied as he swung a leg over, emphasizing my name.

He knew who I was. That gave me pause, and I nearly lost my footing, but not quite. As he went to throw himself over, I grabbed his ankle and jerked.

He yelled as he flipped off the wall, but I caught him before he hit the ground, breathing heavily. My legs burned, my heart racing.

“Goddess, I need to train more,” I mumbled under my breath. I held onto him by his skinny bicep as he jerked and thrashed, his eyes growing wilder with each passing second. “I’ll let you go if you promise not to run again.”

His mouth twisted into a scowl. “I won’t promise that. You are not taking me to him or anywhere.”

And then, he spit.

I flinched when it hit my cheek, utterly surprised he would do that knowing who I was. I wiped it off with my sleeve and laughed. “Boy, you’re lucky I’m not the malicious type.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he held his chin high and mouth pressed into a flat line.

I shook my head and released him. He paused, glanced at my hand, and bolted for the wall again. I laughed and grabbed the back of his shirt to jerk him back down. “I’m not taking you anywhere.”

“Then why did you chase me?” he asked, ripping his shirt from my grasp. He didn’t take off, though, and that felt like progress.

“Why did you run?”

His eyes flashed to mine, something akin to confusion behind them as his brows furrowed. “No reason.”

I tilted my head. He had to be twelve or thirteen, but it was hard to tell with how starved he was, his cheeks and eyes sunken in, his black hair mussed and filthy. But his eyes… They were a muddy red, like dried blood encapsulated in his irises.

My heart raced again for a different reason, my mind trying to count back years. “How old are you, boy?”

He took a half step back, cautious once again. “Why?”

I grabbed his arm, and he jerked against it, baring his teeth at me. “How old?”

“Thirteen!” he shouted.

My breath left me, my hand falling away. He took another step back and rubbed at his arm, but still eyed me wearily.

“Come with me,” I whispered, a newfound urgency winding through me.

“No.” His spine stiffened as he shook his head. His gaze darted around the empty alleyway like he was looking for another escape route. “No, you said you wouldn’t take me anywhere.”

“How would you like a real meal?” I cocked a brow. His eyes flashed back to mine, and I knew I had him. “Cake, even?”

He licked his cracked lips and paused for a moment before dropping his eyes. His fight left him in one long exhale, his shoulders slouching and arms hanging limply. “Are you…” He met my gaze again. “Are you going to hurt me?”

My heart sank. Those were merely the words of a kid who’d been fighting for entirely too long.

I dropped to one knee so I wasn’t towering over him when I promised, “No one will hurt you.”

He looked like he wanted to believe me, a faint hopefulness sparking in his tired eyes, but distrust won out. Even so, he nodded and followed me to Drakyth’s house.

When Drak exited his front door, wings on full display, the kid gasped and sprinted in the opposite direction.

I remained where I was and hooked a thumb over my shoulder at him when Drak’s eyes flitted to me. “That’s your grandson.”

Drakyth went completely still. “Adrastus’ son?”

I nodded. “He’s thirteen.”

His eyes bulged and darted to the kid still sprinting toward the tree line, and he shot into the air with a thrust of his wings. He didn’t have to go far, though. When Drak dropped in front of him, the kid snapped to the side in an attempt to dodge him to no avail.

Drakyth grabbed both of his shoulders to hold him at arm’s length and studied his face before pulling him into a hug, Drak’s massive form swallowing him whole. The boy froze, his arms hanging at his sides.

“Stop fighting, kid. You’re home,” Drak whispered. He tightened his hold. “You’re home.”

The kid, slowly and hesitantly, wrapped one arm around Drak, followed by the other. “My name is Adon.”

“I’ve waited a very long time to meet you, Adon. My name is Drakyth, but you can call me whatever you want: Drak, bastard, old man…Grandpa.”

That was the day Drakyth became the makeshift dad to twelve kids, and thus, the Sanctuary was born. Soon, his estate became the safe haven for all Fae who needed it—namely women and children, but the occasional male too, although we’d found men were less willing to accept help.

It was Ravaryn’s best kept secret, safe guarded by a seemingly ferocious Draig, hidden deep within the forest, and funded by the crown.

Ewan shoved my shoulder. “Still in there, V?”

I blinked rapidly and turned to find him offering me the canteen once again. “Yep, still here.”

“Why are you really going to Rainsmyre? For some reason, I don’t find Drakyth to be one who enjoys visitors.”

To get out of here. To be as far away from Elora as possible. To distract myself with work. “To check in on the musicians. They seem to be settling in well enough, though, their numbers growing daily. We’re currently paying for fifteen different apartments, and from what I’ve been told, music plays somewhere every night.”

When his grin grew, mine matched.

He nodded slowly. “Iaso’s brilliant plan is working, then.”

“It would seem so.”

“And you need to go check on them?” He lifted a brow.

My smile faltered, and I took the canteen from him to drink a large gulp, wincing at the taste.

“No other reason?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No other reason.”

He held his hands up in front of him, his answering laugh grating my nerves. “Right, right. Okay, sure. If that’s what you want to go with.”

I smacked the back of his head, and his face whipped to me a second before he tackled me off the back of the stone we sat upon.