Page 12 of Revenge of the Forgotten

Her face was unreadable as she blatantly ignored his question for one of her own. “What’s on your mind?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered while standing from the stool.

Marlena’s eyes dipped to his shirtless chest, then ticked back to meet his gaze sharply. “Anything you’d like to talk about?”

He and Marlena were friends once. A lifetime ago. But he’d been a different person then.

Bridger could lie, but what was the point? He didn’t fear Marlena like the rest of them did. “I had a dream about them.” He paused. “About Vega.”

Marlena couldn’t hide the distaste distorting her face at the mention of her sister.

It was about time Vega reappeared—it’d been too long this time around. Bridger knew Marlena was waiting for the day she never did, when the curse finally ran dry, taking her sister with it.

“We’re coming up on year fifty-five.” Her voice rang with a sense of longing. “Aren’t you ready to let go of her forever?”

Bridger rubbed his right wrist. “I have.”

Marlena’s eyes, the same color as Vega’s, locked on to the wrist he was absentmindedly running his fingers over. “Does that old thing still bother you?”

It always bothered him when Arlet made contact with Vega. Bridger was sure that’s what triggered his dream. Sometimes, if he concentrated, he could still feel Arlet and Khort—not like he’d once been able to, but they were still there regardless of how much power he used to keep them blocked out. Four souls connected by one person, and her curse had been active too long.

Curses didn’t last forever—they either needed to be broken or released. If neither happened, the power of the curse eventually died, taking the cursed with it.

“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.” He’d been trying to convince her to attempt to break the bond since he’d taken over her army. Bridger would do anything to never worry about feeling the connection he shared with them again, as small as it might be nowadays.

“But then how would I know my sister is stirring?” Marlena took a step closer, looking up to meet Bridger’s stone-cold gaze. She reached out and touched his jawline with her fingertip.

Bridger grabbed her hand and placed it back by her side. “Marlena, do you think I’m dumb enough to believe you need me to know when Vega is on her way back to our realm? That’s not the reason you need me,” he said matter-of-factly.

Marlena’s eyes twinkled under the moonlight, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she pretended to look around at the training arena with interest. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be able to see the look on my sister’s face when I rip the bond out of you three before I kill her for the last time.” Marlena's face shifted to the look of a serpent ready to strike. “And I’ve told you before, my dear commander, that I want nothing more than to see the look on Vega’s face when she finally realizes, once and for all, that not only have I won every single time she’s tried to stop me, but I also got the only thing she ever wanted.” Marlena breathed a contented sigh. “You.”

Bridger hated Marlena with every fiber of his being, but she’d sold her soul to every devil she could find, every god seeking revenge, and it had been proven time and time again that she couldn’t be stopped.

This curse would consume them all.

“It has to kill you, knowing that I can feel her." The muscles tensed in Bridger’s jaw.

Marlena’s cold stare was enough to turn mortal men to stone. “I love knowing that she can feel you, feel the pain of what you’ve done to her when she gets her memories back. But if you play nice, I’ll break the bond before I kill them and spare you from unnecessary pain.”

“I don’t know why you continue to treat me like I’m one of them. Like I haven’t fought by your side for forty years. Have I not proven myself to you? After all this time?” Marlena didn’t answer. “You act as if I haven’t killed her for you.”

The air around them chilled, colder than any winter air had ever made him feel. In the blink of an eye, Marlena was so close to Bridger that her lips were on his ear, her breath sending chills down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he stiffened.

“You’re still dreaming of her and denying me what I want. How is that supposed to make me feel?” she asked, her tone sour with envy.

Bridger knew she only wanted him to get one last dig in at Vega. “I don’t want another Caelum sister. One was plenty for this lifetime,” he sneered.

“That’s too bad,” Marlena purred. “If only I could’ve gotten to you first. You wouldn’t be in this situation now, dreaming of a woman who’s as good as dead.”

“Why are you here, Marlena?” Bridger asked, taking a step back from her, putting space between them again.

“I’m requesting your presence in Stella. Bring Meyer. We have a lot to talk about to prepare for Vega’s return this time.” The feel of her on his skin lingered even after she’d vanished into thin air, and all that was left as proof that she was ever there was a billow of black smoke rising into the now calm night air.

Her powers had no limits.

Bridger let his breath loose, turning his attention back to the training arena around him. From the table, he grabbed the sword that answered to his soul, bonded to him and his powers, and sliced the punching bag in half.

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