Page 32 of Revenge of the Forgotten

“You and me,” she repeated.

Bridger’s shield dropped, but before they could reach Jonan, Marlena was standing over him. His eyes were open, staring directly into his eldest daughter’s brutal gaze. His lips were moving, and a prayer was heard through a whisper.

“To the gods, please guide me to my afterlife. Let me fly with the ones of the past. Let me not fret death but welcome it.”

The prayer of death—recited by soldiers who knew they weren’t going to survive. Jonan had accepted his fate.

“Gods.” Bridger exhaled, changing course. He grabbed Vega by the waist and hoisted her away from the path she was on.

Marlena plunged her hand into her father’s chest and ripped his heart out. His eyes went cold before he had the chance to finish their people’s death prayer.

Vega’s wail pierced through the room. She kicked against Bridger, screaming incoherently.

Blood splattered Marlena’s body, her father’s still-beating heart in her hand. She had a smile so wicked on her face, Bridger felt chills race up his spine. “You can run, Vega, but you can’t hide! I will find you, and I’m going to take everyone you love from you, one by one! Your perfect little life is going to crumble like the walls of this hollowed house will, like the Curia who underestimated me did!”

She cackled, and the echo of that sound would haunt this realm until the end of times.

There was nothing left of the girl who used to giggle with Vega when they snuck out to see their friends after curfew. This laugh was manic, crazed, and no longer carefree like it had been days before. “I’m going to make you feel as alone as you let me be!”

Bridger held on tight as he ran down the hall and took a turn into an alcove of the hallway, hiding from the soldiers who ran by. Vega thrashed, fighting to get back to Marlena. “Shhh, Vega!” His voice was muffled. “He’s dead. There’s nothing we can do about it, but what I can do is keep you alive. We have to leave. We have to find Arlet and Khort.”

Vega sobbed. “She killed our parents. Oh my gods. She killed them.”

Bridger watched, gutted, as her whole world crashed down around her. “Baby, I know. I know. I’m so sorry. Look at me.” His hands cupped her cheeks. Tears pooled in his eyes. “There’s nothing we can do. We have to run, okay? Pull yourself together.” His words weren’t harsh but firm. “We’re not dying today. Do you understand me? We are making it out of here alive.”

Vega’s lips trembled, but no words came out. She nodded, and he wiped the tears off her cheeks.

“I love you,” Bridger told her. “Let’s find our friends and get the fuck out of here.”

A knock on the bathroom door pulled Bridger out of the dream’s daze. The reflection staring back at him didn’t look like himself. His dark hair was longer than it had been in years, sweeping just above his eyebrows, still damp with sweat, and the bags under his eyes were darkening every night.

Meyer’s voice on the other side was muddled with sleep. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Am I okay? Bridger didn’t know the answer to that question.

“Yeah, had too much to drink,” Bridger lied. He opened the door, meeting Meyer’s suspicious gaze. “What?” he asked, leaning against the door frame to look as nonchalant as possible.

He couldn’t—wouldn’t show weakness. No one could find out his dreams were starting to eat away at the person he’d made himself become.

“You look like you haven’t slept since level ten graduation,” Meyer commented.

“Thanks, buddy, you’re handsome too.” Bridger winked, stepping around the tree-stump of a man Meyer was.

He turned around to find Meyer still staring at him. “You had another dream about Vega, didn’t you?”

Bridger stood tall, his arms crossed over his much leaner frame compared to his general, but his eyes fell to the ground for a split second. Meyer was his best friend, the only friend he’d ever been allowed to have, and he knew him better than Bridger wanted anyone to.

“What was it this time?” he asked.

Bridger wanted to hold his tongue, but if he couldn’t tell Meyer, who could he tell? He had no one else. Bridger answered before he decided against it, his voice a shred of a whisper. “It was the night Marlena took over. The night our world changed forever.” He said the last part in a sing-song way—mocking a happy tone.

“You gonna be able to do this today?” Meyer’s golden eyes softened in pity.

“You ask that like I would have another choice if I wanted it.” Bridger straightened his posture, reminding himself that weakness was equivalent to death. “Stop acting like I’m some broken child, Meyer.”

Meyer held a hand up, shaking his head. “I was just making sure you were?—”

Bridger cut him off. “I’m getting sick of people assuming I’m one step away from running back into the arms of the woman who ruined my life.” His voice deepened, mood flipping as he rammed that iron-clad shield back into place. “Vega is nothing to me. She will always be nothing to me.” Though his words sounded fierce and sure of himself, something in the back of his mind whispered that he was wrong.

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