Page 91 of Revenge of the Forgotten

Felix protested, “Sir.”

“Go.” Bridger pointed up the stairs, watching as the soldier turned without another word. He waited until he couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore before moving from the doorway. “Not eating or drinking isn’t going to make you grow big and strong,” he said as he settled in front of Vega’s cell door.

Vega didn’t respond. Her back rested against the wall, legs kicked out in front, with her head back on the hard stone. She twisted her neck to meet his stare when she heard him approach.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stolen from his lips when he saw the shape Vega was in after a single night in captivity. This was why he’d felt pain last night… His hand gripped the iron door and ripped it off its hinges.

Vega’s eye was swollen shut, blood caked on her hands and along her chin. Her suit was ripped from her collarbone to just above her breasts. Bridger squatted down to her level, but her eyes fell to the floor, averting his gaze. He reached for her, but she flinched away from his touch.

“Vega.” His voice was a low growl. He moved slower this time, grabbing her by the chin to force her to look at him. Bridger ground his teeth together at the way his skin tingled when he touched her, at the ring on her finger glinting in the low light of the dungeon. “Who did this to you?”

Her blue eyes were cold, and Bridger saw a flash of his dream from last night—Vega’s inanimate eyes after he drove the dagger through her heart. His hand fell from her face.

Vega didn’t answer.

“Who. Did this. To you.” He asked again, and this time his tone left no room for her to ignore him.

“Isn’t this what I’m down here for? To be beaten?” she asked.

Bridger’s blood boiled. “Not by my men. Tell me who hurt you.”

Vega’s jaw stayed locked in place, her eyes fixated on Bridger’s with scorn. “Aren’t you the one who sent the guard down here with water last night? Shouldn’t you be able to put two and two together?” she sneered, not a single muscle moving other than her lips. Her eyes stared straight into what was left of his soul, pulling strings he thought he’d cut, burned, and destroyed.

The pound of the guard’s boots hitting the stone stairs echoed down the empty halls. Bridger’s attention turned from Vega and her eyes full of hatred to Felix carrying a tray of food down the stairs.

“I want to hear you say his name, and if you don’t, I’ll beat it out of him instead.” Bridger stood slowly, nodding to the sound of Felix’s footsteps getting closer.

“No,” Vega said with a breath, her eyes darting to the hall outside her cell.

“Felix,” Bridger called, beckoning the soldier his way.

“Yes, sir?” He shuffled into view, the tray clattering to the ground when his eyes landed on the mangled cell door.

Bridger turned with eerie stillness, his hand reaching behind him to unsheathe his sword. “Can you tell me who laid their hands on Vega last night?”

“I…” he stammered.

“Grimes!” Vega interrupted, worried for his soldier. “His name was Grimes. He beat me until I couldn’t breathe—until I thought I was going to die again. Felix is the reason I’m alive. He stopped him and then healed my fatal wounds. You should be thanking him, not threatening his life.”

Bridger looked over his shoulder at Vega. “Now, how hard was that?”

“If you hurt him, I swear to every dead god, in this life or my next, I will kill you.” Vega stood, rolling her shoulders with a wince. No matter how battered, no matter the memories she didn’t have, Vega was still defending others. Why did she care so much about people? After everything she’d been put through, why continue to care?

Bridger’s smile slid across his face, slow and sultry, while he put his sword back in its place. He felt relief from Vega’s attitude—if she was running her mouth, she wasn’t fully defeated yet.

My Vega.

“Lock Vega in a new cell,” Bridger commanded, winking at her as he strode out of the cell and up the dungeon stairs. She called him every name in the book as he disappeared from her view.

33

Felix gathered the fallen food and placed it back on the tray. The bread was stale, and Vega was sure the discoloration on the cheese wasn’t from the grimy dungeon.

She grabbed the tray through the slit in the bars. “Should I be worried about poison?”

“I think that should be the least of your worries right now. Keep your strength up.” He disappeared beyond her view, and Vega felt the sudden loneliness sink in as the silence took over.

Her eyes darted to the tray in her hands, and her stomach rumbled at the sight of the unappetizing selection. I would kill for some stinky, fresh fish right about now.

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