Page 132 of Vengeance of the Gods

Bridger quickly and quietly brought his shield up around his mind and blocked out anyone from peeking, simultaneously throwing one around himself and Meyer.

“Oh, you’ve definitely got something up your sleeve.” Meyer rubbed his hands together in excitement.

“How much do you remember about what we learned of the underworld when we were in school?” Bridger’s attention shifted to focus solely on Meyer. He had to do this quickly in order to hide from Vega.

He’d gladly keep secrets if it was to protect Vega from herself. He didn’t care what promises he’d made before finding out exactly what Vega had done. She’d gone behind their backs and sacrificed herself for the greater good—in true hero fashion… but Bridger wasn’t a fucking hero, and he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty to save the girl he loved.

Loved? Past tense? Love? Fuck.

Bridger told Romulus to deliver a message, and he intended on upholding his threat. If Pluto wanted Vega, he’d have to go through him to get her.

Meyer raised his brow, crossing his arms too. On the outside it looked like the commander and his general having a chat. On the inside, the start of a scheme Bridger would soon cling to was about to be set free.

“Not enough to speak on it. I was too busy flirting with our tutor to pay attention to what she was saying.” Meyer smiled, his eyes glazing over like he could see a picture of the girl in his mind.

Bridger, on the other hand, hadn’t even known there’d been a tutor who taught the lesson. He’d been too busy training beside his father to remember much of those days. “I’d like you to find a personal interest in it. Or at least find someone who does and make sure they understand it’s to be kept a secret.”

Meyer snapped out of his goofy mood and scrunched his brows as his eyes raked Bridger’s body. He did this when he felt he needed to read someone’s seriousness.

Bridger had watched him do it all their lives.

“Pertaining to what?” Meyer asked when he’d finished his scan.

“Anything and everything you can find. I want to know it all.” Out of all the bloodlines in Tolevarre, Bridger’s family would probably know the most about what came after death—and he knew next to nothing. “There’s not much about the history of our realm I don’t know, but I can’t remember learning much about the underworld. Only it’s where we go when we die.” Bridger let the sound shield fall abruptly, signaling the end of the conversation.

Meyer watched as Bridger backed away. “I might have a few people who’d be willing to trade information for protection.”

Bridger dipped his head. “Keep me updated.” He began to let his personal shields down.

“Hey, Bridger,” Meyer called, making him pause. “Marlena’s got us outnumbered after her massacre… Add in the shifters and we’re in an unfortunate situation.”

Bridger sighed, fully letting the shield around his mind down… and Vega wasn’t waiting on the other side for him, ready to claw his eyes out.

“For now.” He hated to admit it. “We need to make a statement. A public one. Tolevarre needs to know there’s another option.” More territories would follow. Not everyone was as loyal to Marlena as meets the eye.

Keeping their head down when the vast majority of the realm was doing the same thing was safer—after Vega took Marlena’s fire, Bridger wasn’t sure anyone in Tolevarre was safe.

Recruiting regular civilians would do nothing but add to the death toll, but death was unavoidable, especially in war.

Meyer raised a brow and cocked his head. “I heard there’s a fire-wielder among the rebels who escaped the mines. How liberating would it be for him to save them?”

Bridger cracked a smile. “I like the way you think.” He took a few steps backwards, ready to see Vega. “Let’s talk more tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

The mines were a great place to start, and it would send the type of message the people of Tolevarre needed to see.

Everyone was done playing by Marlena’s rules.

42

Nora slept soundly on the black velvet couch in Bridger’s office the sound of her shallow breathing mixing with the fire Vega must have started with a zap of lightning. The flame was as blue as the eyes staring at Bridger from the chair at his desk.

Vega had her bare feet tucked underneath her legs in a criss-cross, elbows resting on the desk with her chin resting in her palms.

“You really made yourself comfortable, didn’t you?” he asked. Bridger’s smile felt heavy as it slid across his lips.

“This chair is really great.” She bounced up and down a couple times, and maybe in her mind she thought it was showing the spring of the entirely too expensive chair, but after the long day Bridger had had, he couldn’t stop picturing her riding his⁠—

“How many women have you fucked in this chair?” she asked.