Chapter 37
Mara
Mara no longer knew how long they had been on the Bridge of Souls. Time had dissolved into a blur of wind, ice, and terror. Every step felt like walking on the edge of a knife—one wrong move, one slip, one gust too strong, and she would vanish into the endless white abyss below.
Her legs burned. Her fingers were numb despite gripping the railing with all her strength. Her hair was plastered to her face, soaked through by the storm that had swallowed the bridge. The cold had seeped into her bones, turning her muscles sluggish and her thoughts foggy.
She promised herself—swore it silently, fiercely—that if she survived this, she would never set foot on a bridge again. Not a rope bridge, not a wooden bridge, not even a sturdy metal one. She would swim across oceans before she willingly stepped onto another footbridge.
“How much farther?” she shouted over the wind.
Vaelor didn’t turn, but his voice carried back to her, steady despite the storm. “I can see the end. Not much longer.”
“Great,” she muttered. “I can’t wait to get on solid ground, even if it’s ice-encrusted.”
He stiffened.
Mara’s heart lurched. “What’s wrong?”
“I see movement ahead,” he said, voice low and tense. “It’s the other team.”
Dread pooled in her stomach like a stone. “Have they noticed us yet?”
“I’m not sure. I think they are about to reach the end of the bridge.”
She squinted through the sheets of rain and hail, but her vision was useless. Everything was a blur of white and gray. Her eyelashes were frozen together at the tips, and every blink felt like scraping ice.
“We need to move faster,” Vaelor said sharply.
“Why?” she demanded, though she already feared the answer.
“They are finally on the other side,” he growled, “but Blaine is trying to take the bridge down.”
Mara’s blood boiled. “That son of a bitch!”
The bridge shuddered beneath them as if in agreement. The wind howled louder, pushing them sideways. Mara stumbled, catching herself on the railing.
“I don’t think I can go any faster with these boards so far apart!” she yelled.
“Get in front of me,” Vaelor ordered.
She blinked at him through the storm. “What? Why?”
“Just do it.”
She carefully maneuvered around him, gripping the railing with both hands as she squeezed past. The bridge swayed violently, and for a moment she felt weightless—terrifyingly so—before her boots found purchase again.
“What now?” she asked, breathless.
Vaelor bent down and yanked a loose board from the bridge. The entire structure groaned in protest.
“Duck!” he barked.
Mara dropped into a squat so fast her knees cracked.
Vaelor straightened, aimed, and hurled the board with a force that made the air whistle. Even through the storm, she saw the blur of wood slicing through the hail.
It struck Blaine square in the forehead.
He toppled backward like a felled tree, arms flailing before he disappeared from view. Dugan lunged, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away from the edge.
Mara’s jaw dropped. “Holy crap.”
Vaelor didn’t waste a second. “Move!”
They pushed forward, slipping, stumbling, fighting the wind with every step. The bridge swayed violently now, as if Blaine’s sabotage had weakened its spine. Boards creaked beneath their feet. One snapped entirely as Mara stepped on it, her leg plunging through the gap.
She screamed.
Vaelor grabbed her arm, hauling her up with a strength that felt like salvation. “Stay with me!”
“I’m trying!” she gasped, heart pounding.
The storm raged around them, hail pelting their faces, wind clawing at their clothes. Lightning cracked overhead, illuminating the endless drop below. The bridge groaned again, louder this time—like a dying creature.
“We’re almost there!” Vaelor shouted.
Mara didn’t dare look up. She focused on her feet, on the next step, on the railing that felt like it might rip free at any moment. Her lungs burned. Her legs trembled. Every muscle screamed for rest.
But she kept going.
For her father.
For Vaelor.
For herself.
The end of the bridge finally came into view—a solid platform carved into the ice, glowing faintly through the storm.
Mara’s vision blurred with relief.
They stumbled onto the platform just as another violent gust slammed into the bridge behind them. The structure swayed so hard she thought it might snap in half.
Her legs gave out.
She fell to her knees and pressed her lips to the cold, wet ground. “I have never loved ice so much in my life.”
Vaelor knelt beside her, one hand on her back, steady and warm despite the storm. “You did well.”
She laughed weakly. “I survived. That’s all I care about.”
But as she looked up at him—soaked, fierce, unshaken—she realized something else.
She hadn’t survived alone.
And that made all the difference.