Chapter 44

44

I'm free-falling to my death. The icy cold water is going to lap me up and spit me out as a lifeless corpse before my body disappears altogether. And all of this, every revelation I've had in this life, will have been for nothing.

Vega sank, sank, sank, kept sinking until her feet touched the bottom. Stones rattled around her water-logged boots, and the current slammed Vega's already ravaged body against the rough rocks of the cliff. Maybe if she weren't already so weak, she'd have the strength to swim, to continue to fight for her life.

I'm going to die. This is what I deserve for putting my faith in Bridger.

Never again.

Vega wasn't worried about the shifters-turned-monsters—she was worried about the person she'd become in her next life. What kind of person would follow this one? Would she have it in her to keep fighting?

Her lungs burned, filling with water when the current slammed her against the cliff again.

Vega saw Arlet's face, the smile that spread across her lips when they sang their favorite song. She saw Khort soaring in the night, fire ripping through the sky. I'll never be able to apologize for always letting them down.

At least she got to see her friends one last time…

When her vision started to blacken around the corners, Vega accepted her fate. I'll try again next time. I'll get it right next time.

Before she faded completely, arms wrapped around her waist, hoisting her out of the darkness.

Her head popped out of the water, and she devoured that first breath of air before hacking water out of her lungs.

"Kick your legs!" Bridger screamed over the rushing waves.

She didn't argue, couldn't argue, so Vega did as she was told and used whatever strength she could find in her to kick. Bridger turned their backs to the brunt of the waves, blanketing them with a shield. The waves crashed into the barrier.

Vega was beaten and exhausted, but she wasn't dead. She would heal, and she would live.

All she had to do was keep swimming and try not to think of the beasts that lurked in the waters below.

She summoned her wind, battling against the rough waters. Vega pushed when the water pulled. After what felt like hours of swimming, Bridger's feet touched the shore, and he pulled Vega until hers did too.

When she was out of reach of the water, she collapsed to her knees and hacked up whatever water remained in her lungs.

Even Bridger panted with his lean and muscular body, lungs stronger than steel, and powers to assist in grueling fights.

Bridger saved her, but she didn't forgive him—she would never forgive him, not fully.

She stood when she finally felt like her legs weren't made of jelly and locked a violent gaze on him. His eyes twinkled with something she couldn't pinpoint, but she didn't care—he'd pushed her off a fucking cliff! Vega trudged her way over to Bridger, and before she could stop herself, she slammed her fist into his mouth.

Bridger cupped his jaw, blood dripping down his palm. "What was that for?" he groaned, wiping the blood from his busted lip.

"For pushing me off a cliff into waters infested with creatures that could have eaten me alive and letting me believe I was going to die!"

Bridger walked over to the water and rinsed the blood from his face and hands. "What else did you want me to do, huh?"

"A heads-up would've been nice!"

"That's what the apology was for," he scoffed.

Vega rolled her eyes and looked into the tree line. Demuto. It had been years since she'd stepped foot into this territory, and for good reason. The shifters left here had gone mad and didn't like strangers—more specifically, they didn't like Caelums, no matter which sister it was.

His bleeding lip stopped, and Bridger moved to stand beside her. "This is where I leave you."

Vega looked up at him, nodding. "And if I die in there?" she asked before returning her gaze to the dark forest illuminated by nothing but the moon.

"Then I guess you won't remember any of this happened and my little secret will be safe for now."

Vega cracked a smile, peeking at him with a sideways glance. Why does he have to be so gods-damned beautiful?

He returned her smile, looking like the fallen god he was. "I'm sure Khort already knows that you're in his lands, and I know he won't waste a minute coming to your aid."

Vega's hand went to her side where she'd stuck the stolen dagger while they ran. A panic settled in her stomach when she realized it wasn't there. "Fuck." She searched around in the sand, hoping it fell out when they waddled out of the water but knowing that it'd probably sank to the bottom of the lake.

She had her powers back, but using her lightning and storms put a direct target on her back, like a big neon sign that screamed, Here I am! Come get me!

Bridger outstretched his hand, and in the center of his palm was her dagger, the one she'd lost several lives ago. Her eyes lit up excitedly as she took it into her hand, spinning it between her fingers.

She'd made this in her second life—her bonded blade. As an Aeris-born, she shouldn't be able to bond a weapon… but the four of them weren't Aeris-born, Fortis-born, Vates-born, or Demuto-born anymore—they were gods-born. Unlike anyone else in their realm.

It was all black, from the hilt to the point of the blade, except for the light blue gem at the pommel. Made with the same material as Bridger's sword, the same material the gem in her ring was made from, and it was just as beautiful as she remembered.

"Thank you," she said with a breath.

"Don't thank me yet." He glanced towards the eerie darkness ahead of her. "You still need to make it through the night, and Demuto still might have what it takes to kill you."

Vega slid her blade into the holster on her suit that was somehow intact and turned to face Bridger. Arlet's voice rang in her ears. "We need Bridger to win this thing." But could Vega's heart take letting him get close?

She took a step forward, testing the waters between them. Bridger stood as still as stone. "Why?" she asked, her voice as light as air.

"Why what?"

"Why now?"

Bridger didn't break eye contact. "Because I've made a lot of mistakes in my life." He licked his lips, and Vega could hear the words before he'd spoken them out loud. "But none of those mistakes were you."

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she would damn herself for this, but she had to do it. They needed Bridger.

Vega's body crashed against his. She lifted herself to her tippy- toes, and she pressed her lips against Bridger's. His body went rigid for no more than a second before his hands reached to cup one side of her face, the other tangling in her wet and knotted hair.

Vega melted at his touch, just like she always had. She'd planned to take the lead, to rattle Bridger to his core, but it was she who was rattled. Flustered by the sheer need in the kiss.

It had been forty years—forty years since she'd kissed the man whose soul was bonded to hers. Bridger licked at her bottom lip, begging for entrance, and as big a mistake as Vega knew it was, she let him in. Their tongues slid together like they were revealing a secret. Slow and cautious at first, and then ravenous with the need to know more—to know what they'd missed while being apart.

The little voice in the back of her mind quieted, turning into a soft undertone, but Vega knew she had to escape. She would do anything to escape.

Her hand slid from Bridger's hip, moving down the curve of his body—gods, how she missed the feel of him.

With a control she didn't know she possessed, Vega pulled her lips away from Bridger and kissed a line down his jaw. Bridger groaned, fighting his own internal battle. "Do you want to know the real reason I never told you what Marlena said to me before she killed me?" Vega pulled back, meeting his gaze.

The hunger behind his eyes made her almost give in to the temptation she felt—just one last time.

Bridger's voice was pure gravel, his hand gliding to the spot on her chin he always loved to hold. "Yes."

Vega swallowed, steadying her breaths, and leaned into his ear. With one hand on his hip and the other hovering over the hilt of his dagger, Vega spoke the truth. "Because I never had anyone I was willing to test the theory on." She nibbled at his ear, drawing him in. Bridger's breath hitched. "After everything you've done to me, I finally don't care whether you live or die."

Vega leaned back to look him in the eyes as she slid his dagger out of its sheath and struck him right through the heart. Her eyes didn't leave Bridger's, watching his emotions jump from lust to shock to betrayal, and back to cold and unreadable—the Bridger she was accustomed to seeing over the last forty years. But then the pain set in, and it was so strong she too could feel it.

There was pain, but life didn't drain from his eyes. Vega twisted the knife in his chest. "I guess Marlena's right. We are gods, Bridger."

When he dropped to his knees, Vega crouched at eye level and pulled the dagger out. She could still taste him on her lips, could feel his heartbeat pounding in time with hers.

She met his cold but very alive gaze. "Now you know what it feels like when I loved you even after you killed me, even after you chose my sister over me. You know what it feels like to hold on to hope that you'd come back to me, that you'd change your mind—like a knife to the heart." Vega stood. "I would've loved you until my very last breath. I would've kept the promises you couldn't keep."

And then she walked into the Demuto forest with his bonded dagger still in her hand.