Page 154 of Vengeance of the Gods

The scalding hot shower did nothing to numb Vega from the memory of the voices in her head.

The electric current inside her body buzzed, making her skin so hot the water practically matched the temperature of her blood.

She hadn’t dreamed last night—or fallen into the pit of her mind. She’d been able to stay on the outside, for the most part.

Death helped keep the whispering voices at bay, guarding Vega’s mind while she tried to rest.

Eventually, the gods slowly dragged her out of the depths of sleep with their chatter. She could hear them calling to her, longing for Vega to join them again.

They told her they just wanted to talk—they knew a way to save her from her destiny.

When awake, Vega could hold her shields, blocking the place they lived from existing, but when she slept, they could sneak their way to the top, calling her down to them.

Death could stop them, but Death couldn’t stop Vega. Sometimes, the voices of the gods got too strong, and she tumbled to the depths of her own mind, falling for their allure.

Bridger eventually joined her, and they stayed in the shower until the water ran cold.

Leaving the bathroom, Vega expected to be met with the chill accompanying Vincere. The desert surrounding them could be unbearable at certain times of the year, but with how far down into the core of their realm they were, the heat couldn’t reach them.

If Vega closed her eyes, she could almost convince herself she was in Castra. A sharp pang of sadness washed over her for the home they’d lost. She knew deep down it wouldn’t have been a big enough facility to house as many people as they had now, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when hundreds of innocents lost their lives.

Vega was surprised to be met with a toasty warm bedroom, heat pouring out of a small space heater roaring in the corner.

It wasn’t an electric one she’d become used to on Earth—it was the good old-fashioned Tolevarrian kind with a live flame in the belly. The glow of the fire flickered against the tempered glass, casting shadows across Bridger’s room.

She smiled. Their clothing was still strewn across the floor, and a couple empty glasses littered the nightstand. The room was small, but bigger than the others Vega had seen by at least double.

Perks of being commander? A room double the size of a walk-in closet with the tiniest bathroom she’d ever seen. The bed was pushed against the wall, but Vega would admit: it was the most comfortable fucking bed she’d ever slept in.

All this time, Vega had pictured Bridger living it up, lapping up the luxuries of being commander of Tolevarre… when really, he was using whatever he had to put back into the army with new training facilities and state-of-the-art equipment.

Wait a second.

She turned around to find Bridger leaning against the bathroom doorframe with his towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He brushed his teeth, looking as relaxed as he would if this were just any other day and not the day they claimed Ardor and infiltrated the mines.

“When did you start building Vincere?” Vega asked, holding her towel tight with one arm.

Instead of talking around a toothbrush with a mouth full of toothpaste, he replied down the bond. “Thirty-nine years ago.”

A year after he left. “Why didn’t you put the upgrades into Atrox?”

“Did you forget I burned the Dimico Manor to the ground after Marlena killed you in your second life? I couldn’t really live there.”

His answers weren’t what Vega was getting at. “You could have easily rebuilt or moved into the commander’s wing of Atrox’s fort. Much easier than building all of this.”

He returned to the bathroom, finished brushing his teeth, and came back out. Vega stole a glance at the deliciously low towel once more but quickly reminded herself she had a point with all this.

“I didn’t want to live in Fortis anymore… especially not in Atrox with my mother after she became praefectus,” he answered plainly.

Vega knew there was more to it than that.

“But by building Vincere, you separated the military into two. Why?” She wanted to hear him say the words without having to coax them out.

“Where are you getting at with this? Ask me what you want to know.” Bridger opened the armoire in the corner, grabbing two black battle suits. He tossed one at Vega, who caught it with her free hand.

“Did you build Vincere in hopes that one day you’d need a base away from Marlena?” she asked.

“Yes,” he responded immediately. “One of the biggest issues with the start of our rebellion was how fucking unprepared we were. I knew if something else were to happen, whether it be because of you or not, when I turned on Marlena, because I knew I would one day, I needed a place to go, a place to be prepared to fight from.”