Page 8 of Vengeance of the Gods

She didn’t wait for it to open, allowing her control of the wind to announce her arrival.

Bridger sat at a makeshift desk in the center of the room, his attention on a monitor on the back wall playing footage of what must be last night’s attack.

The shadow of a dragon darkened the snow-covered ground as it flew through the light of the moon.

“Fera’s to blame for this?” she asked, standing in the center of the room with her hands clasped calmly in front.

It wasn’t Bridger who answered her. “By the time my team and I arrived, he’d already had most of Nix evacuated,” Meyer explained.

“How many casualties?” Marlena asked, her attention glued to Bridger, who hadn’t taken his eyes off the looped video.

Bridger spoke but didn’t look her way. “Fifteen across.”

It wasn’t a massacre.

“I don’t think Khort’s motivation in coming was to fight. He showed up after the riots started to get people out,” Meyer added. “All my reports over the last few weeks since Vega’s most recent death say he’s showing up only to save the people looking to flee.”

Marlena’s jaw tensed the longer Meyer was in the room. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, General?”

Bridger’s head snapped in Marlena’s direction. “My army. My general. You do not command either while I’m alive.” He rose from his chair, and the look on his stone-carved face said he meant business. His sharp jawline was taut and finally visible again after the weeks he went without shaving following Vega’s second escape. His hair was freshly washed and pushed back in his normal, polished style. A few unruly pieces always fell out of place around his brow.

Marlena couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing his commander’s uniform. “Well, hello, Commander,” Marlena purred. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Their relationship had become strained, more so than it had been at the beginning of Bridger’s reign as commander. Marlena wasn’t stupid. If she didn’t want to run him off, she had to watch her every move.

“What do you want, Marlena?” Bridger asked, leaning against the side of the desk. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Marlena knew she’d see corded veins against his forearms had they been visible through his long sleeves.

Marlena smirked, striding across the small space to stand in front of him. “You could say hello back, you know?” She wore a long sapphire satin gown with a slit up her right leg. It hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating Marlena’s best features.

Bridger’s tight chest rose and fell with a breath. “Hello, Marlena. How’s your day going? Busy?” he asked, motioning to the disaster of a desk behind him. “How was your breakfast? Did you sleep well?”

Marlena interrupted his sarcastic ramblings. “Why wasn’t I aware of the riot or of Khort until just now?”

A beep on Bridger’s comm-device had him reaching for it on the desk. He spoke, eyes scanning over whatever message he’d received. “As I said, my army. Not yours. If I feel it’s necessary for you to know, I’ll tell you.” His eyes shot up from the screen. “Khort had nothing to do with the attack. He was only doing what he does best.” He looked over his shoulder at Meyer. “Will you handle whatever this is about?” he asked, passing the device over to him, who grumbled about incompetent children while stomping out of the room.

Bridger returned to their conversation the second the door closed. “Swooping in to play hero or whatever it is he does as the ‘rebel army’s leader.’” He used air quotes around the last three words and even added some flare with a quick roll of his eyes.

Marlena’s blood began to boil, her fingertips longing to feel the heat of her fire. “I cannot have riots breaking out in Amora when I have no praefectus to subdue them.” Her voice had an eerie similarity to the beast of the dead god of Demuto, Diana. “This needs to be taken care of. Now.”

“What is it you think I’m doing here?” Bridger asked with a cocked brow. “Vacationing in paradise?” His lips held the hint of a smile at his joke.

Amora was cold and miserable all year long. She could count on two hands how many times she’d seen it get above freezing in the last decade. “Are you handling it, or should I?”

His smile spread, and it reminded her of a boy she once knew. Of the young man who fell in love with her sister… “You know you can trust me to take whatever it is that’s thrown my way.” He pointed at Marlena. “I’m here. Handling it. Making sure the rebels know there’s an army presence.”

“I want curfews for every city above five thousand.” Marlena tightened the already short reins she allowed the people of Tolevarre.

“Done,” Bridger said.

Marlena continued. “And⁠—”

Bridger cut her off. “Ah, wait a second. Why is it you always get whatever you want, but I don’t get what I want? Shouldn’t there be a little balance here now? I think it’s about time we share the power.”

Marlena blinked away the twitch in her left eye from Bridger’s tone. Don’t bite back too hard.

“What do you want?” Her jaw burned from how hard she clenched.

Bridger leaned away from the desk, uncrossed his arms, and stood to his full height. “How did the portal appear when you cursed Vega?”