Chapter 33
The pathway was blocked, and Bridger smiled to himself, knowing Vega was enjoying the peace of having a mind and body to herself for the first time since being back home.
He wished he could enjoy a moment of peace, but he hadn’t been able to rest for a single moment since Vega told him about the deal she’d made.
She wasn’t telling the whole story.
He could tell in the way she avoided his questions, could see the fear in her eyes when she thought about getting everyone to Vincere as quickly as possible. He could feel the panic in her voice as she screamed down their bond when she was supposed to be sleeping.
Vega told him she promised to deliver her sister and the gods to Death for the power to save Tolevarre, and Romulus revealed who’d spoken to Bridger in the portal to Earth.
The people of Tolevarre might not be well versed in the intricacies of death, but Bridger, before he was the commander of their realm, was the son of a commander, and the Dimicos knew more about it than any other bloodline.
Bridger’s life had revolved around death.
Learning about death.
Avoiding death.
Protecting from death.
Causing death.
Falling in love with a girl destined for death.
Bridger knew Death.
He’d prayed to her, begged her to take him on his darkest days when the loneliness got to be too much.
Somehow, over time, Death became synonymous with the god of the underworld and the dead. Before Tolevarre existed, when the gods walked among men, Mors was the personification of death, and she wasn’t considered a goddess—but a servant to the god of the underworld.
The two weren’t one being. It wasn’t Death who made deals. It wasn’t Pluto who controlled deaths.
Bridger would bet almost anything Pluto had chosen Vega as his modern-day Mors—his bringer of death.
It was the only way she could deliver souls to the underworld.
Vega could lie and tell half-truths to the others, but she couldn’t lie to Bridger. He’d been there with her. He’d heard everything Romulus revealed… and even some of what he hadn’t.
Pluto was alive, and for whatever reason, he wanted Vega.
Bridger stripped out of his shirt, folding it neatly on the counter. He propped his foot on the edge of the tub and began undoing the laces of his boots.
A loud pop rattled the walls, followed by Vega’s scream.
Bridger was across the small house with his sword in seconds. He couldn’t reach her internally or see what was happening thanks to his fucking shielding lesson!
The locked door didn’t stop him. Bridger pulled it off its hinges to get to Vega.
Vega… who stood in the middle of the room in nothing but her underwear, covered in rust-colored water, her hands protecting her face as she fumbled to turn off the spraying water from the now busted pipe exposed in the wall.
She made the tiniest yelps of protest as she fought with the faucet. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Vega couldn’t get it to turn off.
Bridger reached over her shoulder and twisted the handle. The water eventually stopped shooting out like a missile, trickling down the wall in a slow stream.
Her shoulders sagged, and she took a loud breath. “Vincere is sounding sweeter by the second.”
Bridger leaned against the wall, letting the panic subside, knowing Vega was fine and he’d freaked out over nothing.
She finally turned around to look at him, and he didn’t miss the heavy-lidded stare she raked down his body, taking her time over the cut of muscle between his hips. Her eyes landed on his sword in a death grip, focusing on the veins popping in his forearm.
The tip of his sword scraped against the old flooring.
“I couldn’t see. I couldn’t get to you. I didn’t know what was happening.
” He chuckled at himself for overreacting.
Scanning her for any real injuries, Bridger watched water droplets smear stains down her skin.
Her lacy white underwear was speckled orange, but the set was mismatched, and the black bra would survive the incident.
Vega licked her lips and locked eyes with Bridger.
His skin felt like it was on fire.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he told her with little to no conviction. Her heavy stare burned him, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the craving he had for her—he’d never be able to rid himself of Vega again.
“Like what?” she asked breathily.
“Like you want me to stop being a gentleman and fucking devour you already.” Even to his own ears, Bridger’s voice had a low gravel anyone would recognize as lust.
Vega squeezed her thighs together, immediately catching Bridger’s attention. His mouth watered at the dirty thoughts filling his head.
Vega’s legs spread open. My head between them.
He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth, forcing his stubborn eyes to pull away from the spot between Vega’s thighs. She fucking whimpered when their eyes met again, trembling under nothing but his gaze.
It was over.
Bridger closed the gap between them, the sound of his sword clattering to the floor second to the pounding heartbeat in his ears.
They crashed together in a kiss that made everything around them vanish.
He had his hands under her ass, ripping her off her feet.
Vega breathed a faint sigh as Bridger hoisted her up, her bare legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms rested on his shoulders as her hands instinctively fingered through the hair at the nape of his neck, sending a violent chill down his spine.
“Vega…” he moaned, never removing his mouth from hers.
The whisper of her name down the bond turned Vega into putty in Bridger’s hands. Her head fell back, and she writhed like she might come right that very second. Vega’s nails dug into his shoulders, eyes fluttering closed. “Do it again.”
Bridger grabbed the back of her neck and yanked her forward, pulling her back to his lips while he stalked out of the tiny bathroom with her still wrapped around him. “My Vega,” he whispered.
“Oh my gods,” she moaned hard against his lips.
He dropped one arm to the worn dining room table, clearing the odds and ends off in one quick sweep and rested Vega on its edge. Vega’s legs stayed wrapped around his body, keeping Bridger close.
He gripped her neck underneath the chin, tipping her head back to return his undivided attention to kissing Vega like they had forty years to make up for in one day.
Vega’s hands flew to the button of his pants.
Bridger grabbed both wrists with his free hand and pulled his lips from hers.
Vega’s eyes shot open.
With his hand around her throat and wrists wrapped in a strong grip, Vega was at his mercy.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth a second before he snatched her arms over her head and pinned her against the table.
Bridger leaned over, crowding her space as he let go of her throat and slid to cup her jaw.
Vega rolled her hips, legs still open wide, and rubbed her pussy against the erection Bridger had become increasingly aware of. Her need for him was visible in her bleary, lust-ridden gaze.
Bridger got drunk off her reaction.
He’d always lost his mind and every bit of control he had watching Vega in bed. Bridger did feel sorry for the rest of the universe and all the others in between, because they’d never get to see Vega look at them the way she looked at him now.
Pinned down and not fighting his hold, Bridger watched her hips roll without breaking the eye contact she knew he wanted.
“You fucking gorgeous, gorgeous goddess.” He said the second “gorgeous” internally, watching her quiver with need.
“Bridger, please. Please. Fuck m—”
He slammed his shield in place, not allowing her to finish that sentence.
No. He’d give in if he heard her beg. Bridger wanted to stay in control. He wanted to watch Vega lose herself in the euphoria of her pleasure. “You don’t get to fuck me this time, baby.” His deep voice vibrated against his chest. “But I promise to make you come until you can’t think straight.”
The noise that erupted from her lips was a mixture of disappointment and need. “Let me in,” she begged, wiggling against Bridger’s hold.
Their pathway had once been foggy and hard to find.
It’d felt like Bridger was searching for a door in a room full of other doors—guessing until he found the right one, but now there was only one left.
It was open, inviting Bridger inside. “You want back in?” Bridger gripped her wrists tighter, his fingers digging into her pulse point.
Vega could get him off if she really wanted with a single zap of her lightning.
She had electricity at her core—and everyone knew she would use it.
She was happy right where she was at.
“Yes,” Vega whimpered, popping her bottom lip out. “How are you doing that?” she groaned through gritted teeth.
If the door was open, Vega should be able to reach him, but not if he had a shield in place.
Nothing could reach him then, and if she hadn’t let hers slip somewhere in between the bathroom and now, Bridger wouldn’t be able to get in either.
“You don’t feel whole, do you?” he asked, leaning down to run his palm up her torso, leaving warm kisses in its wake.
He pulled the cups of her bra down, her nipples already hard from excitement.
“No.” Her words were breathier every time she spoke. Her blatant need for him was enough to keep him on his current path.
He brought his teeth down on Vega’s nipple, his tongue flicking out to roll around the bud. Vega stared down her body at him as best she could with her arms still pinned. “I’ll let you in under one condition.”
“Fuck, Bridger, what?” Her voice had grown desperate.
“Put that shield back in place. We don’t need the others seeing what I’m about to do to you.
” Bridger snuck behind her eyes and watched himself sink lower and lower down her torso, the taste of rust not enough of a deterrent to stop him from sucking on the delicate skin around her hips until he left his mark.