Page 111 of Revenge of the Forgotten

When she was out of reach of the water, she collapsed to her knees and hacked up whatever water remained in her lungs.

Even Bridger panted with his lean and muscular body, lungs stronger than steel, and powers to assist in grueling fights.

Bridger saved her, but she didn’t forgive him—she would never forgive him, not fully.

She stood when she finally felt like her legs weren’t made of jelly and locked a violent gaze on him. His eyes twinkled with something she couldn’t pinpoint, but she didn’t care—he’d pushed her off a fucking cliff! Vega trudged her way over to Bridger, and before she could stop herself, she slammed her fist into his mouth.

Bridger cupped his jaw, blood dripping down his palm. “What was that for?” he groaned, wiping the blood from his busted lip.

“For pushing me off a cliff into waters infested with creatures that could have eaten me alive and letting me believe I was going to die!”

Bridger walked over to the water and rinsed the blood from his face and hands. “What else did you want me to do, huh?”

“A heads-up would’ve been nice!”

“That’s what the apology was for,” he scoffed.

Vega rolled her eyes and looked into the tree line. Demuto. It had been years since she’d stepped foot into this territory, and for good reason. The shifters left here had gone mad and didn’t like strangers—more specifically, they didn’t like Caelums, no matter which sister it was.

His bleeding lip stopped, and Bridger moved to stand beside her. “This is where I leave you.”

Vega looked up at him, nodding. “And if I die in there?” she asked before returning her gaze to the dark forest illuminated by nothing but the moon.

“Then I guess you won’t remember any of this happened and my little secret will be safe for now.”

Vega cracked a smile, peeking at him with a sideways glance. Why does he have to be so gods-damned beautiful?

He returned her smile, looking like the fallen god he was. “I’m sure Khort already knows that you’re in his lands, and I know he won’t waste a minute coming to your aid.”

Vega’s hand went to her side where she’d stuck the stolen dagger while they ran. A panic settled in her stomach when she realized it wasn’t there. “Fuck.” She searched around in the sand, hoping it fell out when they waddled out of the water but knowing that it’d probably sank to the bottom of the lake.

She had her powers back, but using her lightning and storms put a direct target on her back, like a big neon sign that screamed, Here I am! Come get me!

Bridger outstretched his hand, and in the center of his palm was her dagger, the one she’d lost several lives ago. Her eyes lit up excitedly as she took it into her hand, spinning it between her fingers.

She’d made this in her second life—her bonded blade. As an Aeris-born, she shouldn’t be able to bond a weapon… but the four of them weren’t Aeris-born, Fortis-born, Vates-born, or Demuto-born anymore—they were gods-born. Unlike anyone else in their realm.

It was all black, from the hilt to the point of the blade, except for the light blue gem at the pommel. Made with the same material as Bridger’s sword, the same material the gem in her ring was made from, and it was just as beautiful as she remembered.

“Thank you,” she said with a breath.

“Don’t thank me yet.” He glanced towards the eerie darkness ahead of her. “You still need to make it through the night, and Demuto still might have what it takes to kill you.”

Vega slid her blade into the holster on her suit that was somehow intact and turned to face Bridger. Arlet’s voice rang in her ears. “We need Bridger to win this thing.” But could Vega’s heart take letting him get close?

She took a step forward, testing the waters between them. Bridger stood as still as stone. “Why?” she asked, her voice as light as air.

“Why what?”

“Why now?”

Bridger didn’t break eye contact. “Because I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life.” He licked his lips, and Vega could hear the words before he’d spoken them out loud. “But none of those mistakes were you.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she would damn herself for this, but she had to do it. They needed Bridger.

Vega’s body crashed against his. She lifted herself to her tippy-toes, and she pressed her lips against Bridger’s. His body went rigid for no more than a second before his hands reached to cup one side of her face, the other tangling in her wet and knotted hair.

Vega melted at his touch, just like she always had. She’d planned to take the lead, to rattle Bridger to his core, but it was she who was rattled. Flustered by the sheer need in the kiss.

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