Chapter 12

12

Bridger kept his head up as he marched down the halls, dressed in his training suit with daggers of all shapes and sizes lining the holster on his leg. Stitched into place over his heart was the Dimico insignia, shiny and gold. No cape fluttered from his shoulders.

No one made eye contact with him, moving out of his way if they got too close. Bridger was never the friendliest commander, but he'd never been as outwardly brutal as his father.

Bridger stretched in the garden before taking off along the trail that led to a small lake outside of the city square. He took this run anytime he was in Stella. Meyer usually accompanied him—Bridger hadn't extended the offer today.

He pushed himself hard, his lungs filling with the crisp morning air. Athleticism was a trait of those with Mars's blood—the god of war. Bridger was who everyone strived to be when they were warrior-born.

Like a tidal wave, thoughts of last night's dream flooded his mind again, and he ran harder to push them away, his muscles tensing as he drove into the ground with strong strides. The memories stole his breath, constricted his airflow and caused a gasp to slip from his lips as he lost the pace he'd been keeping. The feel of Vega's ache, the cause of her turmoil in last night's dream, blacked-out his vision, and catapulted him back in time.

Bridger closed his eyes tightly, and against his instinct, he forced himself to slow to a stop. His hands rested on his knees as he hunched down to catch his breath. Bridger straightened his back to keep airflow coming in, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth.

For so long he'd been able to forget how in love he'd been with Vega, how the thought of her was so all-consuming that he couldn't imagine a world without her. Remus had given him the power to block all of that out—to try and rid himself of the memory of her, of their life together before she became a shell of the person she'd once been. Bridger was able to pretend their relationship was something from another time, another world, because that was what it'd become.

Vega wasn't the same girl he'd fallen in love with, and he wasn't the same boy he'd been when he fell.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Get yourself together, Dimico.

He was miles away from the home harboring those wretched memories and made the run in record time until the panic of his thoughts halted him.

People trudged by on their morning walks around the capital, eyeing the commander discreetly.

He stood up tall and took in the view. Aeris used to hold a special place in his heart. These mountains were home to what used to be some of his fondest memories. Those memories were now the ones that haunted him, invading his dreams and stealing his sleep.

The mountains loomed, still capped with snow from the winter. Summer was in full bloom, but the very tip-top of Stella's mountain ranges would never fully melt.

The reminders of her burned, singeing his body. With a groan, he slammed his shields up and around his mind, forcing a calmness to ease into him.

Bridger's breathing steadied in time for the trees to rustle behind him with an unnatural wind. Everything Marlena did, everything she was, felt dark.

It didn't surprise him one bit she sought him out before he left today. In fact, he expected it. Part of him did hope she wouldn't, but Bridger knew her. He'd spent forty years working by her side.

"Good morning, Bridger." Her voice was gentle. It was easy to fall for her charm.

Bridger turned to see Marlena standing behind him on the shore of the lake. "Morning," he quipped.

Marlena's smile brightened as the people of Stella took notice of her, their eyes landing on her for only a split second before they shot back to the path ahead of them. People were afraid of her, no matter the power they might also possess—and in order to call Stella home, their powers had to be pretty significant.

"You missed a really wonderful dinner last night," she said with a sigh.

"Drop the fucking act. Do you play pretend like this around everyone all the time?" Bridger was exhausted by her constant charade.

Marlena chuckled, the sound sprinkling the air. Bridger threw a shield up, a silent bubble falling around them—it wasn't visible, but it was there, and Marlena knew it. Her tone changed, but her body language stayed the same. Tall, regal. Just because the people of Stella couldn't hear her didn't mean they weren't watching. "Of course not. I know I don't have to bluff around you." Her words were like poison, seeping through her tainted lips.

Her outfit today was a dark dress, crimson sparkles glittering in the daylight as she moved to stand in front of Bridger. Even clothed in a feminine dress, Marlena gave off a deadly edge—the one she'd killed for.

Bridger didn't dare move back from her. Once upon a time, he was afraid of Marlena, but that was a long time ago—a dream ago. "If that's the case, then tell me the real reason I'm going to get Vega instead of waiting until she's back here where there's less risk."

"I told you last night, I don't need her giving hope to the rebels this far into the curse. They're already a nuisance, and I'm growing tired of their false confidence." Marlena's eyes roamed Bridger's rigid stance.

"That's a load of shit." Bridger's face stayed hard as stone, his emotions locked away tight. "Tell me." He took a step closer to her, his gaze fixing on the muscle ticking in her jaw. "Or I'll send someone else. I'm a busy man, Marlena. I don't have time to play your games."

Marlena inhaled, her chest rising and falling before the words spilled from her red-painted lips. "I need something from her, and in order for me to get it, she's going to have to get her memories back." Her voice didn't falter. "And I want to be the one to return to her what I stole so she can see how forgiving I can be when I choose to."

Bridger's eyebrows drew together for a split second before realizing. Marlena caught the look, and a serpentine smile spread across her face.

She raised her hand, her index finger tracing the creased line forming between Bridger's brows. He batted her hand away, coaxing a chuckle deep from within Marlena's chest. "I can finally end this once and for all, and all I need is for Vega to give up one little piece of information, and to finally lose hope that she can ever beat me." She paused, cocking her head. "Do you think that sounds like something I should be telling everyone who works for me? The less they know, the better."

Bridger huffed, changing the subject to hide the shock of her disclosure. "I am not just someone who works for you . You made me look like a fool in front of your entire council last night."

Marlena painted on a remorseful look, making it look almost real. "I did not." It wasn't a power she possessed, but a skill she'd learned early on in her life to give people the side of her she knew they wanted.

Bridger snarled, shaking his head. "You did, and I thought we made an agreement a long time ago. You will not treat me like the dog you turned my father into. I am not left out of any decision that involves me. I don't care who or what it entails. Vega is your problem, not mine, and yet you're forcing her to become mine by cleaning up whatever mess it is that you can't handle yourself. You might not think you need me, but you do… and you've just made that so clear."

The air around them electrified with the shift in her mood. "I need no one," Marlena snapped.

"When will you stop lying to me?" Bridger had her backed into a corner, metaphorically. Marlena swallowed, but Bridger cut her off before she had the chance to speak. "If you didn't need me, I would've been dead a long time ago. You need me, Marlena—in more ways than one. The soldiers would have turned on you ages ago if it weren't for me. The relationships that I had to rebuild after my father's death, the work that I've done to make Tolevarre's army better than it's ever been, knowing that I keep them safe from your wrath is the only thing keeping them from joining the rebels. Just admit it, and I'll accept your apology for how dirty you did me last night, for keeping imperative information from me." Bridger smiled, his broad shoulders back and one brow raised knowingly.

Marlena's lips tightened. "Why must you push me?" she questioned, fists clenched.

"Because I'm the only one who can." His words struck a nerve, getting the reaction Bridger was hoping for. Fire trickled across Marlena's fingertips, making Bridger smile. "Ah-ah, your people are watching." Bridger shook his finger and nodded in the direction of a small group that had slowed to watch them.

"Fine. I need you. I need you because if you're not mine, then you're Vega's, and we know how that ended in the first few lives. You are the key to breaking her."

Bridger uttered a small laugh. "Good girl," he whispered as he leaned into her ear. "But everything after ‘I need you' was unnecessary."

Marlena tensed, the fire gone from her hand. "I know what you're doing, Bridger. You're not as slick as you think you are."

"I know you know, but look at me, holding some power over you. It feels good." Bridger licked his lips, leaning away from her ear to catch her eye as the corners of his mouth ticked in the faintest upward tilt. "What you did to me last night will never happen again or I'll make you regret it. Know that you need me more than I need you."

Bridger dropped his shield and backed away from her, nodding a goodbye before he broke back into a run. Having the upper hand with Marlena was rare, and no matter the hatred that still bubbled in the pit of Bridger's stomach, he smiled, knowing that he'd gotten Marlena to admit what no one else ever had.

"It's nice to meet you, Commander," Halo said, his blond hair the color of snow in the sun.

Bridger nodded to him, giving him a once-over, but ignored the boy's greeting. "How does this work?" He straightened his scabbard, sliding his bonded sword in. Bonded weapons answered to their owner, making them stronger with that weapon than any other. They were made by blacksmiths in Ardor. He buckled the holster wrapped around his right thigh, ornamented with a few of his favorite daggers.

Bridger watched as Halo's eyes raked over his weapons with unease.

Meyer entered the room, dressed and ready for battle with his own assortment of weapons. Their powers wouldn't work once they stepped through the portal, and while they probably didn't need more than their bare hands to get the job done, Bridger wasn't taking any chances.

The boy's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "Um, I'm not entirely sure," he answered, fiddling with his hands in front of him.

Bridger raised a dark eyebrow. "We're off to a great start," he said under his breath to Meyer, his arms crossed over his chest.

Meyer wasn't born a warrior by blood, but he became one of the best from standing beside Bridger all his life.

The Fraus-born traveler shook his head. "I mean, I'm the only one of my specific kind that we know of, and I'd prefer not to end up an experiment so people get to understand how my ability works."

He had a point, to which Bridger nodded and said, "Fair."

Meyer patted Bridger on the back once. "Do you think the swords are really necessary?" he asked as he eyed them. Bridger cocked his head, ignoring the nagging presence of the young traveler across from him.

Arlet wasn't the helpless young girl she once was. She'd had fifty-five years to learn how to defend herself, and Bridger knew there was a power inside of her no one would understand—it was the one secret he'd kept from Marlena. He'd made mistakes in his life, but he felt like keeping Arlet safe from whatever Marlena might do if she found out was his final apology to the friend he'd crossed.

"Do you want to be caught facing a very angry Arlet with just a single dagger?" Bridger waited for his reply, watching him process the question with a raised brow.

"Absolutely not."

"Good choice," Bridger replied.

Bridger wasn't wearing his commander uniform, only his simple training suit with the gold insignia over his heart. Meyer's uniform mimicked his, though his family's insignia was a red flame.

Bridger's sword was pitch black, the dark metal sparkling like the night sky. It had been through everything with him, and not even a tiny chip near the hilt could get him to part with it. It was one of the two bonded items his power gave him at a young age, and while he could rebuild the sword and rematch the bond, there was an attachment to the chipped blade he'd yet to let go of.

"Alright, Halo. You ready?" Bridger asked the boy.

He was so young—too young to be siding with a woman who would suck him dry. Bridger wished he could warn him, but it was already too late. Marlena's corruption didn't take long to settle in—he knew that firsthand.

Halo's smile was sharp, aging him a few years. "I think the real question is, are you?" He reached forward too quickly for Bridger or Meyer to jump back. His hands wrapped around each of their wrists, and everything went black, a crushing feeling pressing into Bridger's whole being.

Bridger couldn't hear or see anything, but his senses were all on overdrive, ready to fight his way to the surface of this suffocating blackout. He was sure he was seconds from imploding, gravity squeezing him so tightly his breathing stopped completely.

He didn't implode, but when his feet touched the ground and the world was delivered back to him, Bridger bent over, dry heaving through the waves in his stomach. He stumbled, inhaling all the air he could get into his lungs as the world settled fully around him.

Panic seared his body. Bridger forced himself to assess his location, fighting through the sickness threatening to escape from the pit of his stomach.

They were in the deep forest of Vates, settled among a crumpled village—not just any village. This is Arlet's village.

At the end of this row of comfortable cottages, Arlet's former home sat deteriorated, vines engulfing the entire structure. Vates had been abandoned longer than any of the other territories.

The portal's new location was intended to be a mind game, another way for Marlena to slowly cripple Arlet if she made it back to Tolevarre alive.

Meyer was on his hands and knees, gasping for air. "What the fuck! " he screamed while jumping to his feet, charging for Halo. Fire danced above his hands.

Halo disappeared and then reappeared behind Meyer as a ball of fire blazed through where he'd been standing, burning a small shrub to a crisp. The boy was too quick, staying ahead of Meyer's every move.

"You get used to it," the boy said, smiling at Tolevarre's most notoriously vicious warriors trying to recover from a jump that took less than ten seconds.

"Never again," Meyer rasped, his fire simmering in his palms, but a hot ember still flickered behind his golden eyes.

Bridger's gaze landed on the trees, a shimmer between the two largest catching his eye. The portal appeared with Vega's curse, and only those who were tied to her could see it. To the rest of the world, it was just an out of place set of mangled tree branches. Halo and Meyer stared at Bridger as he marveled at the portal they couldn't see like it was his first time laying eyes on it.

"You brought us straight to the portal," Bridger commented, knowing how hard that was for a single traveler, let alone bringing two others in tow. "Some power you've got," Bridger gawked. Halo, a boy no more than nineteen years old, was able to do what no one before him could do. And so efficiently.

He was a force to be reckoned with.

"Thanks, Commander." Halo smiled, his shoulders pushing back with pride. "I'll leave you to it. Marlena told me to wait here for when you return." Halo traveled to the low-hanging tree above them, making himself comfortable on a branch. "I'll keep watch."

Bridger looked to Meyer, the color in his cheeks finally coming back. "Let's get this over with."

Meyer bowed his head in a nod, trusting Bridger fully, and cracked his fingers out in front of him with a quick snap. "Ready or not."

Here we come.