Page 35 of Vengeance of the Gods

A familiar voice dragged Marlena back to the surface.

She blinked, her vision getting less blurry as life returned around her.

Arlet stood inside her cell, peering through the bars with soft hazel eyes. “Mar.” Her nickname was a whisper on her lips.

She didn’t have a heart to hurt, but a piece of the girl she’d once been still resided somewhere deep, deep, down, and that nickname on Arlet’s lips reminded Marlena she was there.

“What happened?” Arlet took a step forward, her dirty fingers wrapping around the bars.

She didn’t remember coming to the prison under Atrox. The last thing she had any memory of was the Stella square, blood and bodies piled on top of each other.

Marlena glanced down at herself, her visible skin splattered with blood. Her dress was soaked through. Not a single thread of fabric had been spared.

“Tolevarre knows I’m a god.” Her voice sounded so far away and had a softness she hadn’t heard in a very long time. “They know Vega is a god. If they’re smart enough, they’ll know you, Bridger, and Khort are too.”

Her head felt fuzzy, trapped in the in-between. She couldn’t shake it.

“How?” Arlet asked with a breath.

“I broadcasted it, and then I killed them. They killed them.”

Marlena floated to the bars, coming face to face with Arlet. She looked so much like the girl she used to love.

Marlena felt herself lift her hand, gently bringing her fingertips to Arlet’s cheek. Blood smudged her soft skin as her fingers brushed down to her chin.

Arlet’s eyelashes fluttered, and then her eyes closed. “They?”

This was a dream…

When Marlena realized it, she chuckled out loud. Gods, it almost felt so real.

Arlet feels so real.

“The gods. We couldn’t let the people who witnessed the acolyte’s confession live.” She wrapped her hand around the same cell bar Arlet did. Their hands were less than an inch from touching.

Arlet’s eyebrows drew together when she opened her eyes. “But you broadcasted it.”

“I’ll fix it, pet. Don’t worry.” Her head swam, the dream threatening to fizzle out.

Not yet.

The use of her old nickname made a muscle in Arlet’s jaw twitch.

Marlena’s smile grew a few inches. It felt lazy on her lips.

“I see you in there sometimes. In passing moments.” Arlet’s words drew Marlena’s gaze from their almost-touching hands. Her eyes weren’t easy to read with the tired circles under them.

This might be a dream, but dream-Arlet was identical to the real one.

Bruises lined her body, littering her pretty skin with signs of the torture she’d endured over the last five weeks.

None of them had come from Marlena directly. She’d only been the one to give the orders to try and get her to talk.

About Vega.

About the rebellion.

About everything.