Page 17 of Revenge of the Forgotten

The screeching of his alarm registered just as Meyer’s hand slammed down on the button to silence it. “Your alarm has been going off for twenty fucking minutes.” His baritone voice was even deeper with the grogginess of sleep. “I could hear it down the hall. You trying to wake the whole gods-damned wing up?”

Their rooms shared a wall, but the bathrooms separated their living spaces from being side-by-side.

Meyer approached, holding out his hand to help Bridger up.

He shooed him away, getting himself off the cold floor without assistance. “I must’ve been sleeping pretty good.” Bridger ran a hand through his dark hair, sitting himself down on the corner of his ruffled bed. His elbows rested on the tops of his knees, head in his hands while he groaned.

“Ya think? Since when do you sleep past your alarm? It’s been years since I’ve heard that—incredibly annoying, might I add—buzzing.” Meyer scooped Bridger’s charcoal comforter off the floor and tossed it to him before collapsing in a plush chair across the room. He lit a lamp with a simple snap of his fingers, fire dancing across the tips before disappearing.

The electricity in Tolevarre was powered by the natural elements around them. The running streams of Aeris, the solar power of Ardor. The intelligence of the people from Littera ensured their world had technological advances and machinery that assisted in making everyday life easier for its people, but Vincere didn’t have the electricity the rest of the realm had—the ones who were powerful enough to have the luxury of well-lit homes, that is. The barracks and training facility saved whatever they could for their equipment and popular common areas.

“Since I started having dreams of Vega,” Bridger admitted, lifting his head from his hands and wiping the look of longing from his face. His feelings for Vega over the years had swelled from lust, to love, to longing, to hatred for the shell of a person she’d become—of what the curse had stripped her of.

“Ah.” Meyer huffed.

The two didn’t talk about her. They didn’t talk about anything from before. Let bygones be bygones or whatever—that was how Bridger felt. Why bother when harping on the past wouldn’t change anything?

“How many years has it been this time?” Meyer tipped his head, the flickering light illuminating the scar under his chin—a reminder of what Bridger had given up to save his best friend’s life.

“Fifteen years,” Bridger answered. “The longest time she’s been gone so far.”

“You think this means it’s coming to an end? It’s getting longer and longer every time she resets.”

I hope not. “I hope so,” Bridger said instead. “These dreams I’m having, they’re not just dreams… They’re memories. I’m dreaming of events in the order they happened before Marlena cursed Vega.”

Meyer cocked his head. “Weird.”

“Really weird,” Bridger agreed, hoping he wouldn’t push for more information.

“That’s never happened before?” Meyer asked.

Bridger answered with a shake of his head. “I had dreams of her before I learned I could shield the memories and block the bond, but never of anything real.” He’d never admitted that to anyone.

The shielding power of warriors typically only blocked outside forces. Bridger, over the years, had realized his powers were no longer just what he’d known them to be—nor were they only what he’d been born with. Already stronger than anyone their world had ever seen, Bridger somehow got stronger. The powers he’d gotten from his direct lineage to Mars had a long list: enhanced strength, hearing, the ability to bond with a weapon—allowing his powers to manifest within the object and become stronger when using it.

Mars’s powers had given the people of his lineage everything they needed in order to be a skilled warrior—the soldiers of this realm meant to protect the people who called Tolevarre home.

Remus made Bridger different, giving him powers he’d never imagined being able to hone. He could play with the wind, manipulating it for his own use. He could heal small wounds—nothing like the real healers of this realm could do, but enough to assist in aiding his soldiers when they’d been hurt in battle.

It took years to realize all the things he could do after the summoning.

There was also the bond he shared with the other three, the way he could feel them even when he didn’t want to.

And if Bridger was strong before Remus linked him to them, then he could be damn near unstoppable now. It was why Marlena wanted him so badly—the two of them could take over this world and the next if he allowed it.

And then there was Vega, and their bond was…

“What did you dream about tonight?” Meyer interrupted Bridger’s reverie.

Bridger’s lips betrayed him, sliding into a slow smile at the memory of his hands on Vega’s body. “You don’t want to know.”

Meyer almost laughed but shook his head instead. “It’s got to be the curse breaking down. It’ll be over soon.”

Bridger didn’t know what to respond with, so he didn’t say anything, only nodded.

“Let’s get a training session in before leaving for Aeris. Gods know you’ll need it before whatever bomb Marlena’s going to drop on us,” Meyer said, pushing himself up from the chair by the armrests.

Marlena didn’t personally invite Bridger to meetings—she didn’t personally invite anyone to anything unless it was their execution.

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