Page 60 of Revenge of the Forgotten

The music from the band beat against Khort’s chest. The current song was loud and rowdy. Everything about tonight had started off slow. The Curia swearing in the next generation of leaders always dragged on for hours longer than it needed to.

As of tonight, Marlena had taken over her mother’s position as the seat of Amora, and in a few years, she would take over her father’s seat too, becoming the first in Tolevarre’s history to rule over two territories. Her mother had stepped down early, allowing Marlena to get a jump start while Ryanna enjoyed her early retirement.

“And to hopefully plan a wedding!” She’d beamed, eyes on Vega and Bridger as she addressed the other leaders of Tolevarre in her final speech.

Ryanna had finally accepted Vega and Bridger were in it for the long haul. Her father had yet to come around.

Khort twirled Vega in a circle, her dark velvet dress rustling against his leg when her back was to him. Her smile lit up the whole room as she laughed the happiest sound Khort had ever heard. Vega moved along to the beat perfectly, backing up into Arlet, who was dancing with Bridger. The girls turned to each other, singing along to the song without missing a single word.

They took breaks from the dance floor to grab glasses of wine from around the realm—Vega always choosing the red from Solum. Her lips were stained, giving her succulent pout an unmistakable lift.

Vega leaned against the bar, her dress sparkling under the moonlit sky. “Have you seen Marlena?” She was cuddled into Bridger’s side, her arm wrapped around his hip as she leaned in to hear Khort’s and Arlet’s no’s.

Vega pouted. Not having Marlena out here celebrating with her was bumming Vega out whenever she stopped dancing long enough to think about it. She would have to learn to accept the fact Marlena wouldn’t be able to be around as much—it had been a hard transition for her since her sister began to pull away over the course of the last year.

“I’m sure she’s being hounded, getting all the attention she loves,” Arlet answered, reaching out to tap Vega’s hand comfortingly.

“Sure,” Vega said as Bridger kissed the top of her head.

“C’mon, baby. Smile. She’ll find us as soon as she can,” he told Vega, his hand resting on her chin to catch her gaze.

The sisters were always close, more like best friends than siblings, but as Marlena was exposed to more responsibility, it took a toll on their friendship. And everyone around them could sense it.

Khort looked away just before their lips touched. When he turned his head, a certain redhead caught his eyes, her pale skin reflecting the moonlight as her red lips spread over her face in a smile laced with lust.

Ivelle Fugere. The Caelums’ cousin. Easily one of the most beautiful women in Tolevarre.

“Excuse me, ladies and gents. I’ll be right back.” Khort’s lips twitched in a smile as he crossed the dance floor to her. Bridger and Arlet led in the hooting and hollering as he beelined for the woman who’d become his distraction while Vega fell deeper in love with someone else.

Before he reached her, a scream pierced through the room, echoing against the courtyard—the sound got lost in the mountains. Khort jumped on defense, his eyes turning to slits as his dragon form prepared to launch to the sky. His eyes shot over to Vega and Arlet. Vega’s lightning sparked, dancing between her hands. Arlet stood behind Bridger, who was somehow already armed with two daggers.

Everyone in the room froze, new screams traveling through the air as their eyes landed on the spectacle on the balcony above.

Blood was splattered across Marlena’s face, and she held her mother’s head by the hair.

Just her head.

Vega’s lightning fizzed out as her knees buckled. She crashed to the ground, her jaw distended as far as it would go. Not a peep came from her, the disbelief choking her to silence. Vega’s eyes brimmed with tears.

Marlena’s stare was fixed on Vega, her index finger sliding across her throat as her lips ticked up in a wicked smile.

The room broke out in complete madness. A woman barreled past Khort, knocking into his shoulder with enough force to snap him out of his trance.

He locked eyes with Bridger from across the room, and with the nod of their heads, they dove into action.

When Khort finished his retelling, the bottle of wine was finished, and their glasses were almost empty.

“So. Ivelle?” Vega asked, wiggling her eyebrows as an attempt to deflect from the pain on Khort’s face.

“She was behind it all with Marlena.”

“Of course she was. Let me guess… there was a promise of power in it for her?”

Khort nodded and then finished his glass. “Listen, I came here to apologize for how I acted at our last training session. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I’m just tired of losing you.”

Vega held the last sip of her wine in the glass, the rim resting against her bottom lip. Her mind was lost in the story, imagining the shock of seeing her mother’s head hanging over the people of her land.

“I’m sure I’m sick of leaving,” she finally replied, meeting his eyes again. “I want to experience something for the first time tonight before I get my memories back.”

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