All Hail the King (Celestra Forever After Book 6)

by Addison Moore

  I lose myself in the crowd a moment. Bodies swirl around me in a dizzying blur. Those dismal scenes Marshall showed Logan and me burn through my mind like a branding iron. Marshall wanted to show me what would happen with inactivity, with complacency, with me doing nothing. Oh hell. He’s right. Human trials must begin and they must work. But if they don’t…

  I can’t even bring myself to finish the sentence.

  A pair of arms pulls me from the thick of the crowd as the music grows louder and faster, and as quick as a breath I’m right back in that dark corridor once again, only it’s not Rory’s eyes I’m looking into. These glowing ocean deep eyes belong to Gage Oliver.

  There are moments in life where you feel pulled from reality, as if you were transported to another realm entirely. But this isn’t some out-of-body experience where I feel as if I’m watching the entire event unfold from the ceiling. This feels lucid, a saline moment that I’m experiencing with every last cell in my body on high alert.

  His left hand is still tucked in the small of my back, his right cups my cheek, his thumb brushing it softly.

  I can hear Marshall, thick skin—and like a reflex, I jerk him away with a violent thrust.

  “You don’t get to touch me whenever you wish.” My chest is pulsating, my anger boiling. But deep down, I want the moment to defuse, for Gage and me to hobble back to the way we were. As much as I hate that desperate part of me, I think I need it. One strand of hope that Gage is still alive behind those stormy eyes.

  His lips pull back and a look of regret takes over his features before he hardens again as easy as putting on a mask.

  He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple rises and falls, and he nods as if he were having a conversation with himself, talking himself into something. Something good perhaps. There goes my wishful thinking.

  “Don’t talk to my wife that way again.” Gage scours his eyes over mine as if expecting some kind of a caustic response.

  “Is that why you dragged me here like some caveman?” I shake my head just barely. “I don’t think so, Gage.” My voice is lower than a whisper. A part of me fears I might be wrong. “You heard Logan. He’s the go-between. You don’t get to pull me from a crowd. You don’t get to caress my cheek. You don’t get to speak to me directly anymore unless the boys require immediate attention. You may text me concerning the boys—but again only if there is something you deem requires my immediate attention. Other than that, it’s Logan.”

  “So you’re together with him now?” He glances past my shoulder, and in a strange way it was as if he were talking to himself.

  “What do you care if I’m with Logan, Marshall, Ellis, and I’m screwing Brody Bishop on the side? Who I choose to spend my time, my nights with is no longer any of your concern.” A husky laugh strums deep in my chest as a fireball of emotions races through my veins.

  In an odd twist of fate, it’s this moment that I feel myself taking back my power. All of the intangible parts of me, the most valuable of them all, I can feel them gliding back into my very being, stronger than ever before. A fierce possessiveness of who I am and where I am going overcomes me. In a strange way, this prehistoric snatching that Gage has pulled off has become a strange blessing.

  His eyes close a moment, an action of his I’m more than familiar with. He’s acquiescing, sorting through the evil cards he’s dealt himself and trying to make heads or tails of how in the hell he got a rotten hand.

  There are two clear paths he can take. He can say something nice—something that alludes to the fact he wishes me well and has no intention on interfering with my life more than necessary. Otherwise known as the high road. Or—he can go low, tell me to go to hell in a way that only this new version of him can.

  My heart slams against my chest, anticipating which road we’ll travel. The ball is in his court, and I am curious to see where it ends up.

  Gage hardens his gaze over mine, his lips pursed in a tight angry knot.

  “Do whatever the hell you want with your life, but I will reiterate—stay away from Chloe.” His lower lip pulls down unnaturally as if he were staving off tears. “She’s mine.” He takes off and I stand there in the dark, watching him enter the light as he speeds past a group of cackling girls—one of them the exact witch he just laid claim to.

  “Skyla?” Logan’s voice echoes around me before he appears at the mouth of the entry to this dismal hall and he blissfully blocks out all of the light for a moment.

  “I was just on my way back,” I whisper.

  He pulls me into his arms before I can take three steps. “I saw Gage racing out of here. Did he hurt you?”

  I inch back, stunned by the question in general. “No. In fact, I feel stronger for it.” My fingers find their way into the back of his hair and something warms in me. Logan presses those fiery amber eyes deep into mine and it feels as if I’ve finally made my way back home. Marshall was just another shield I tried to put over my heart. I’m dropping my defenses. Risking it all once again for this man, right here.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” His lips twitch as something just shy of a lewd smile creeps up his cheek.

  The squeal of a microphone goes off as the music cuts out. “If I can please have your attention, my name is Principal Rice and I would like to welcome each one of you back to West Paragon High!” The crowd goes wild and I can’t help but bite down a smile as I look to Logan.

  “Principal Rice? Now there’s a throwback. Why do I feel like I’m about to get into some serious trouble?”

  Logan’s brows bounce.

  Principal Rice laughs into the microphone. “I just want to thank each one of you for taking the time to come out tonight, and to let you know that through your generous donations that are still pouring in, we have raised close to twenty thousand dollars!” The crowd cheers twice as hard as before. “And since this is prom, I think it’s time we announce the king and queen. So if you’re not out on the dance floor, come on down because you will not want to miss this.”

  “You heard her.” Logan navigates us back out into the thicket of bodies and lands us in the heart of the dance floor.

  “I don’t remember being asked to vote. Do you?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean we can’t win.”

  “Logan.” I shake my head as he wraps his arms around me tightly and a genuine laugh bubbles up my throat.

  “What?” His dimple twitches. “We’re winning.”

  “If we win, I’ll buy you dinner.”

  “When we win”—he nods my way—“I will take you up on that. But I’ll pick up the tab. I’m hungry for steak and lobster. I’m taking the tab into triple digits.”

  “In that case, I gladly defer to your credit card.”

  We share a laugh as the band starts up a drum roll.

  The room grows dark as a series of spotlights dance around Principal Rice and the drums crash to a thunderous crescendo.

  “The new king and queen of West Paragon High are”—she holds her hands up and confetti rains down from the ceiling—“all of you. Every woman a queen, every man a king. Congratulations and thank you so much for making this event such a success. Enjoy the rest of the night!”

  The spotlight bounces to the band and the drummer leans into the mic. “And now for your entertainment, we have a special guest singing just one song with us this evening. Cooper Flanders singing ‘Morning has Broken’. Have fun.”

  “Coop?” I gasp with delight as Cooper takes the makeshift stage with a guitar strapped to his chest as the music cues up.

  Coop starts in and he’s slaying it, both looking and sounding hotter than a firecracker on the Fourth of July.

  Logan pulls me close and points to our left. “Check that out.”

  I turn just in time to see Laken wriggling out of Wesley’s arms as she makes her way to the stage, swaying and swooning at her true love.

  “Boy”—I muse—“Cooper is pulling out all the stops. And that voice? Mmm, he’s got Laken in the bag.”

&n
bsp; Logan growls, “You’re starting to make me wish I could sing.”

  “You can dance,” I say, pressing my body close to his as we begin to sway to the melodic rhythm of Cooper Flanders’ voice.

  That sideling dimple goes off. “Only when I’m with the right person.”

  Something catches in my spirit, the scales fall off, and it’s so very obvious where my heart lies and with whom.

  “You are definitely with the right person.” I take a breath and hold it. “And so am I.” My mouth falls open with the revelation, our gaze impossible to break. A slow grin pulls at his lips, but he’s slow to give it. There are some moments you remember forever, and this for me is one of them. “I’m home, Logan. It’s been a long journey, but I’m back and not the Counts, life, death, Gage Oliver, or any other entity in the universe in the heavens will ever take me away from you again. I trust you, Logan, and that was the biggest barrier of all. But it’s broken, crumbled to dust. You have me in every way. And I know that I know you won’t hurt me.” The words come from me like a song in the night, like a poem set to music, like sacred vows pulled straight from my soul.

  Logan breaks out into a smile that slays me—the exact smile he gave the moment I met him all those years ago. “Welcome home, Skyla. I’ve been waiting for you. I wasn’t going anywhere. There has only ever been you for me. My story begins and ends with you. It always has and it always will.”

  Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away. “Kiss me, Oliver.”

  “Here?” He ticks his head to the side, teasing me with the prospect.

  “Right here, right now. This is our proclamation to each other, because at the end of the day it doesn’t matter what anyone else wants to make out of it. I’m yours. I’ve always belonged to you.”

  Logan presses his strong hands against my body as he pulls me close. He bows down, his lids hang low but are slow to close as he comes in for the kill and he does just that. Logan Oliver ends me with one touch of his beautiful lips. Logan kisses me right there on the dance floor, in the heart of West Paragon High for all to see, for me to feel, under the watchful eye of Cerberus, just the way it should have been to begin with. This much I know is true. I do love Logan. I truly do.

  Kissing Logan is like warm sunshine on my back, love from the fiery orb that I haven’t seen in years. It feels like living, like dying—like a long overdue resurrection all rolled into one. Logan’s mouth burns like a hot coal over mine, his tongue refreshing like the river that flows from the very throne of God. This kiss right here is a blessing from the Most High. Logan pours his entire life force into me and I return the favor with a steady stream of love pulsating from my heart to his. Logan Oliver is mine wholly and truly. Our destinies have collided and we are born anew. Celestra to Celestra, love that usurps the passages of time. Two souls coming together at last to please fate, to please one another. There is nothing more beautiful, more precious than to savor the taste of his mouth in mine.

  Whispers of my name, of his, surround us. They seep into my mind and I try to discern who they belong to. They go off like an unstoppable chant. Logan and I are causing a scene, we are being seen, our love for one another evident for all to witness.

  I hear Gage coming in clear like a reprimand, but it’s all in my mind, he wouldn’t dare. He’s trying to infiltrate the ranks, ruin this precious moment, and take up space in my head that he has long been evicted from.

  Logan moves us from the dance floor in a heated rush. I spot Chloe near the exit, her eyes reduced to slits of hatred as I pass her by and I don’t even bother giving her the finger. I couldn’t care less what Chloe thinks about me, what her vile heart and mind truly think about anything.

  Outside, the cool mist greets us. Paragon and her ghostly fog dance around us as we make a mad rush for the Mustang.

  “Skyla.” Logan pushes me against it and takes a hungry bite out of my neck, dotting a line of oven-hot kisses up to my temple. “I can’t stop, but I will. I’m ready to build something with you. We can go slow.”

  “I’m not asking you to stop.” I pull back a notch to look into his citrine eyes. “We are building something together, Logan, but I’m not the schoolgirl I was. I’m not the legalist I was. I’m going to have you, Logan.” I run my fingers down his tie and give it a tug when I hit the bottom. “I want to have you tonight if you’ll let me.”

  A devilish grin rides on the tip of his lips. “Honey, I will be the last person to stop you.”

  Someone shouts something from the gym and the sound of laughter reverberates through the woods around us.

  Logan opens the passenger’s side door for me. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We jump in and Logan speeds us off of the school grounds, away from the past as we barrel toward our future.

  “Whitehorse?” he asks as we near Devil’s Peak and I turn the steering wheel toward the overlook.

  “I think we’ve gone far enough.”

  Logan drives us toward the edge and kills the engine. Without giving it another thought, I pull him into the back seat with me. His warmth, his girth over my body feels like heaven, and every last inch of me drinks it down. His mouth covers mine in haste and I wrap my hands over the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer, push him through me. I cannot get close enough, these wet, heated kisses feeding my every desire to have him. We’re making up for lost time, and yet it feels impossible to do so. Logan and I are bursting with passion, blowing the lid off of anything we ever had with one another and going for broke. We’re giving destiny and fate and every wicked force out there the finger and saying this is what we want, this is what we choose.

  Logan rides his hands over my body and every part of me comes to life, to the knife-edge sharpest form of clarity that I have ever felt. Logan sings his praises as he carefully lifts my dress. I do my best to rake his shirt open, to fumble with his pants, and soon enough it’s flesh over flesh, Logan’s hard as steel body pressed to mine, a holy sensation that I haven’t felt since that last night of our short-lived honeymoon. It’s a strange thing that my heart’s attention first went to Logan—that our marriage came first. It’s almost as if Gage was an interrupter, an aside, dare I say, a diversion.

  Logan stops abruptly and pulls back, his eyes glossed over and drugged. “No,” he says it with certainty, assuring me he heard every word.

  I shake my head. “Errant thoughts. Forgive me.”

  He lands a sweet kiss to my lips. “You did nothing wrong. I just don’t want your mind to take you on a dark path. Everything that happened needed to play out. This, right here, is our moment. But those moments were necessary, too.” His finger caresses my cheek. “I have a feeling we don’t see the big picture, and one day when we do we will see that this wasn’t all there was. That it wasn’t all so terrible. That we needed to walk through the fire. But we’re here.” A sorrowful smile takes over. “And we are not going back. Doors have closed, but new doors have opened. We have found our way to one another. Our time has truly come, and I do believe good things are in store for us in the future.”

  I bite down over my lip to stave off tears. I didn’t want to drag Gage into the car with us, but here he is. I nod through blurry vision.

  “Then that’s what it is. Those things were necessary. We have the boys.”

  His eyes close a moment. “Thank God we have the boys. We have good memories, too. We’ll cling to those.”

  “As we move on.” I pull him back down to me by the back of the neck. “Thank you for that. But for now I will put those things, both good and bad, out of my head. I only want you filling my mind, my heart—my body.” The hint of a wicked grin plays on my lips. “I like this new opened door, and I’m glad we get to walk through it together.”

  “Here’s to us.” His mouth crashes over mine once again, and soon the air grows damp and heated, our bodies scalding hot over one another.

  Logan rides his mouth up and down every ounce of my flesh, contorting himself to land his mouth over even the mos
t delicate of places. My entire being bucks and writhes and I can’t help but moan myself into a beautiful oblivion. Logan is on me, all over me, and with one final thrust he is in me.

  A sharp jolt of electrocution ignites every cell in my body and those vibratronics usually reserved for heavenly hosts rides through me like a livewire meeting with a greedy puddle of water.

  The entire Mustang hums and rocks to the rhythm of our lovemaking and the windows sizzle as they sweat tears of joy.

  This is rarefied air we are breathing—a love story that got cut off, only to be reconnected again, coming full circle with something you knew you could never stop. We were heading toward one another all along. The fact decades and landmasses sat between us meant nothing.

  Yes, it was fate, it was destiny, it was my mother and her strong, long-standing will that moved heaven and earth, life and death, and time continuums to make sure we happened, but in the end it was our own hearts that took us to the finish line.

  Gage had hurt me. He hurt us. But from this strange perspective, it feels as if even those hellish moments we endured were destined to happen.

  In the end, when the ashes were blown away, something beautiful was left and that is Logan and our love for one another. It almost begs the question, what must we do, what must we as a united entity accomplish? I realize Angel, our precious daughter, lies in the equation, but I think there’s something more, something bigger we bring to the table than simply genetics. Together, Logan and I are unstoppable.

  We are, he concurs. We are downright dangerous to the enemy. We are a life force to be reckoned with and they will try to do just that. But we will prevail, we will rise higher, and we will be victorious. You and I are the missing piece to the puzzle. Together we fit and together we make sense. One doesn’t work without the other. I truly believe we need each other to accomplish all that was set out for us to do. There is no you, no me, that can get it done. It is with our union, our unity that we enter the finish line with the strength of a lion.