Page 120 of Vengeance of the Gods

“Where the fuck are you, Dimico?” Vega growled as she ducked Poe’s first strike. Claws whizzed by her face, slicing through the air.

More shifters crawled out of Demuto, and Vega knew she could end them all with a single strike of lightning. Vega didn’t see herself as the hero anymore, but that didn’t mean she wanted to kill innocent shifters acting against their own will.

What would it do to Khort if they killed the people he’d just gotten back?

“Here.” Bridger’s voice wasn’t inside her head this time.

When Vega turned around, dodging another swipe of Poe’s eight-inch claws, her breath caught in her throat.

There he was.

The commander of Tolevarre.

He was dressed in his classic black battle suit, the Dimico family’s gold insignia, a shield with swords, over his heart. The wind from Vega’s storm blew his hair out of place, bringing attention to the sharp line of his clenched jaw. His bonded sword twinkled like starlight as he brought it down—a blow meant to strike through Poe.

“No!” Vega summoned a gust of wind, his sword piercing the grassy terrain instead.

Poe barred his razor-edged teeth, the vacant look in his eyes the same as the one Delori had worn.

“They aren’t in control of themselves,” Vega warned. “We can’t kill them!”

Death warmed her insides, as if to say, I disagree.

Bridger locked them in a shield a second before Poe charged. “Listen, I respect you and your sweet heart, but this is a real war now, Vega.” He grabbed her cheeks in his calloused hands, the chilled metal from the pommel of his sword bringing her back to reality. “What are you fighting for?” His dark eyes bored into hers with an intensity she hadn’t felt in this life or any of the others she’d had without him.

Death didn’t reach for Bridger like it did anyone else. It rubbed against the inside of Vega’s mind like it longed for his touch too.

“For a future worth living.” The words fell from her lips before she could think of an answer.

“Then you have to be willing to kill for it. You don’t win wars by letting everyone live.” Bridger dropped his shield, and Vega watched as he drove his sword through Poe’s chest. His body collapsed to the slick grass, returning to his human form.

Vega stared up at the sky, able to see clearly through her storm despite the intensifying rain. Lightning the same color as her own sputtered through the clouds.

Marlena was nowhere in sight, but the shifters kept coming, slinking out from the depths of a territory that’d been lost inside itself for too long. They didn’t act on their own volition—they were now owned and operated by the same woman who’d left them to their own devices, punishing them for decisions out of their control.

“How many people from the caves were here with you?” Bridger asked, killing another shifter coming after them with a loose swing of his sword.

“Khort, Arlet, Leo, Octavia, and three of your soldiers,” Vega answered quickly.

He took stock of the battlefield Vega boxed in. “Clear the battlefield. Get every single one of our people out of your markers.”

Leo swung his axe at two approaching wolves, bouncing back as the smaller of the two lunged for him.

Arlet had a confused panther running in circles, fighting off an opponent who wasn’t there, while she undoubtedly debated on taking its life.

Vega’s storm opened to a torrential downpour, drenching everything in a matter of seconds. Lightning crackled across the sky, splintering like broken glass.

This was Death’s battlefield, and it wouldn’t be satisfied until it got what it wanted.

“You.” The word sounded like an exhaled breath, her fingertips going black from Death’s touch.

I won’t be satisfied until I get what I want. Death reminded Vega who she was—who they were.

What did she want? The question echoed in her mind like someone else asked it.

Death. It wasn’t only Vega’s voice who answered.

“No.” She glanced up at Bridger, water dripping off the sharp but beautiful angles of his face. “Marlena’s here. I’m not leaving.”