Throne of Fire

by Addison Moore

  “Skyla”—I break our gaze as I glance to the angry sea as if it were the Master Himself contesting those words—“there are things happening right now that we need to discuss.”

  She lands a finger to my lips. “But not tonight. I know what you’re going to say. I know all about Demetri’s wicked plan to pit you against my people. And although I’m not over that, I think we need to find a way to rise above it.”

  My heart drums faster as I meet up with those lucent eyes of hers again. “Rise above it. You believe it’s possible.” I can’t say I do. A dull smile bounces on my lips because I have the complete authority to shield her from my thoughts. Before, it was like holding up a wall with those infantile-like powers I was gifted, but with this new body, this new mind, it’s child’s play to turn on and off my thoughts to her.

  “It is possible.” She gives a fevered nod. “And I won’t take no for an answer. We are together, Gage. You and I are husband and wife again.”

  I shake my head just barely, not wanting to incite a war. “Only in your eyes, Skyla.”

  “And in yours?” She looks up at me from under that thicket of lashes.

  “And in mine.”

  A rush of emotion slaps over the shoreline of my mind, and I’m all hers again, no wavering, no tottering, on the brink of some destitute oblivion.

  “I love you, Skyla. I could never love anyone like you.” My mouth falls over hers as I stagger us back to the thatched structure and we find a makeshift bed, a nest of white down comforters as if it were beckoning us to stay a while, in the least an hour or two. According to the dark army of clouds rushing the island, a downpour seems imminent, and I will welcome Paragon rain, gladly fill my lungs with its mist. I’ve missed this island almost as much as I’ve missed Skyla and the boys.

  Her kisses dot a line to my ear, and she buries her lips in it for a moment. “Make me yours again, right now.” Her hand dances down to the lip of my jeans, and she gives a little tug.

  Under normal circumstances, I would say yes, scream yes. Under normal circumstances, I’d already have her pinned to the ground, my body thrusting in and out of hers as fast and hard as gravity would allow. But these are no ordinary circumstances. The fact Demetri asked one chief thing of me is the most frightening of all—love Skyla. I know what that means. She and Logan never get the chance to have a life of their own. Their love never produces an heir. Skyla and Logan are virtually impotent with me in the equation. I’ve become their biggest encumbrance, and inadvertently everybody’s biggest nightmare.

  I lay her down and curl up beside her, holding her in my arms, rocking her in a weak attempt to shelter her from this world.

  “How about tonight we just soak one another in?”

  A breath hitches in her throat as she looks up at me. “You’re hesitating! Gage, I will never not want you. This is ludicrous. You’re just denying yourself something we both want and need. Logan isn’t—”

  “This is bigger than Logan,” I say it with zest, like putting out a fire. “Logan is a part of this, yes, but I need to wrap my head around what’s expected of me. My chief concern is protecting you and the kids, and I will continue to do just that.” No matter what the cost, but I don’t dare say the words.

  She lies back over my chest, her watery eyes glued to mine. “Fine. You can have tonight, but as your leader I command you to worship my corporeal form with your body in the very near future. I can only hold out so long before I stage a virtual attack. Now tell me about Ahava. Did you see my father? Did you see Sage?”

  “Yes.” A dark rumble of laugher strums from me as I run my finger along the length of her nose. “Your father is a saint, quite literally. And Sage—” I shake my head, dismayed.

  Skyla lands a finger to my lips and gives the slightest hint of a nod. “I know.” She tucks her face into the crook of my neck a moment, and I drink down her warm breath. “My mother did a bang-up job in the child-rearing department.”

  “That she did. But I will untangle that knot, Skyla. I promise you that.” I bury a kiss in her hair. “Sage will be working with me closely. I’ll mold her to be the daughter we both know she can be. I’ll change her heart.”

  Skyla looks up slow to meet my gaze. “And who will change yours?”

  “Nobody. It’s set in stone. I am here as your enemy, Skyla. Your people—” I shake my head, unable to finish my thought. “It’s better this way. The curse is mine.”

  “It was never meant for Nathan or Barron, was it?”

  I lie back and spy the clouds, the navy night from a hole up above. Demetri makes a lousy carpenter. “Never,” I whisper.

  We had fallen into Demetri’s bear trap so easily, so fast, and now all I had to do was spend the rest of Skyla’s life loving her as my wife. It all sounds very simple.

  “Who killed you, Gage?” she whispers so low as if not wanting to alert any entities that might be circling.

  “I can never tell.” My finger coils around her silky hair. “I don’t want you mixed up in it. Leave the vengeance to me, Skyla.”

  “No.” She taps my lips until my eyes meet up with hers. “Vengeance is mine.”

  My first night back on this spinning blue rock is spent with Skyla wrapped in my arms just the way it should be, but Skyla and I can never be complete again without the boys, so I convince her that we should head back to the Landon home, spend the night in our old bedroom with the fullness of our family all in one bed.

  No sooner did we walk through the door than Lizbeth offered me a great big hug, assuring me she knew I’d be back in time for Christmas. Skyla mentioned that her mother never accepted my death, which doesn’t surprise me. Lizbeth holds an aggressive affection for me, and I do deeply appreciate it. Tad squawked at me for turning his living room to tatters and for damn near breaking his neck—for which he is now sporting a neck brace. Mia wept at the sight of me, happy for Skyla, for me. Melissa fell to her knees in outright worship, and I needed to actually bark at her in order to get her to knock it off. Then I asked her kindly to never do that again. I do realize that’s what I came for, that’s where this new destiny of mine is headed, but I won’t have it. Not until it’s shoved right down my brand new throat.

  But the boys, they were too tired to realize what was happening when Skyla pulled them into bed with us. Their bodies seem twice as long as they were a month ago. No longer do we have infants on our hands. We have toddlers who will quickly morph into young men. Skyla mentioned she’s weaning them off the bottle. Things are changing faster than I can comprehend. Not only did I come crashing to an end, but everything around us seems to be coming to an end as well—and slowly a new beginning.

  But I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I certainly don’t need to. Instead, I gazed lovingly upon my beautiful family. Demetri is right. How could I ever leave them? Certainly Skyla and I can work something out. She will work for good, and I will work for evil. She will understand my need to topple her, send her people crashing to the ground. I am bound and gagged by a covenant that I can never undo.

  My finger brushes over Barron’s tender cheek. I’m bearing the cross for my boys. I have absorbed the blow. That’s what a real man does. He protects, he absorbs all of the crap that life has to offer just to shield those he loves. I guess at the end of the day I love my boys far more than I do Skyla’s people. I blink into the night. Did I just call them that? Skyla’s people? And there it is, the fissure has already begun. They were never mine to begin with.

  In the morning, I text my dad—Barron, my real father, and let him know I’m back, asking him not to tell Mom. I want to surprise her. He suggests we hightail it over there in an hour. They’re hosting a Christmas brunch with Liam and Michelle—Logan, Giselle, and Ellis. It’s the exact homecoming I’m looking forward to. Dad says he’ll keep the news from everyone and that he is most grateful for this true Christmas miracle.

  Skyla and I head downstairs, each with a happy boy in hand, a smile on our own faces a mile wide.

 
“I know they’re not dressed fancy.” Skyla winces as she glances my way. “But trust me, a red sweater and these adorable mini Levi’s are leaps and bounds better than what my mother shoved them in last night.” She bites down on her lip as if she had something to do with the shoving as well.

  “It’s the last thing on my mind. Merry Christmas, Skyla.” I lean over and plant a warm kiss to her mouth.

  Our lips linger as she pulls back slowly. “Merry Christmas, Gage Oliver,” she whispers with a dreamy look in her eyes. We’ve been extending the holiday greeting to one another all morning. Neither of us can believe we are back, right where we belong, together.

  Skyla nods as if she just read my mind. “It’s almost too good to be true. But it is true.” Nathan kicks her and squirms until she puts him down. “We’re doing this life thing together, Gage. You and me. Don’t believe a word the enemy tells you.”

  I pull a tight smile because the enemy just so happened to agree with her.

  We head to the family room and wish everyone a merry Christmas. Miles of colorful wrapping paper are flung in every direction. Mia and Melissa are passed out on the sofas, while Misty, Ember, and Beau busy themselves with a small mountain of toys. The scent of fresh coffee lights up the air as Tad and Lizbeth sit slumped at the table with Lizbeth dunking a cookie into her mug and Tad with his nose buried in the paper. Drake and Ethan nod over at me as if I were never gone, but Bree latches onto me as if I were about to drift right back out to sea.

  “Never do that to me again,” Bree whimpers as she pulls back. The look on her face suggests she wants to slap me. “You love this girl, Oliver.” She ticks her head to Skyla. “Don’t you dare ever break her heart or you will have me to answer to.”

  “Got it.”

  Emily steps up with that perennially bored look on her face. “I’ve got family who needs you.” She gives a knowing nod. And I nod right back in agreement. The Videns are eating shit, and I need to get them out of that situation. “You helped land them on Raven’s Eye. I expect you to get them out.”

  “It’s the first thing on my list,” I reassure her. And it’s true.

  “Good.” She runs her fingers through her coarse curls, and they snag in the thick of it. “Because I’m ovulating and I can’t worry about shit like this.”

  “Are you and Ethan thinking about expanding the family?” For some reason, it warms me to hear it. Skyla jumps behind her and shakes her head wildly at me, slitting her finger across her throat.

  “Not with Ethan, with Drake,” Emily grunts as if indeed it were grunt work.

  Skyla nods. “It’s a twisted story.”

  “Not twisted,” Bree insists while gripping Em by the shoulders. “Why don’t you get down to the trailer, crawl into my bed, and open both your mind and your legs? Get relaxing, girl, because once my Drakey Wakey gets in, there will be work to do!”

  “No.” It comes out loud and clear, just the way I intended. “That’s not going to happen.” I glare over at Bree for being so comically ridiculous. “You’re his wife. You should not condone this bullshit.” I give an aggressive glance Em’s way. “And you’re brighter than this. I get it, you want a full-blooded sibling. Well, too bad. It’s not happening. Just because we can do something doesn’t mean we should. Yes, we would all love the kid you and Drake would create, just like we love Ember. But enough is enough. I’m tired of everyone on this island acting as if there aren’t any consequences to our actions. This is the day we grow up. Em, you are not having a baby with Bree’s husband. Merry Christmas.” My heart riots against my chest as if it were cheering me on.

  Both Bree and Em look at me as if I’ve just morphed into Cerberus, and Ethan walks up puffed up like a baboon.

  “Now do you believe me?” He butts his shoulder to Em’s as he looks to me. “I’ve been trying to pound that shit into her skull all week.”

  Skyla’s mouth falls open. “They said you were cool with it.”

  “I’m not.” He looks to Em. “So get your ass in that bedroom so I can leave a little something in that fuzzy stocking of yours.”

  Skyla shudders. “Okay, so not necessary.”

  Em and Ethan take off, and Bree slaps me over the shoulder. “Look at you go. Making the world a better place one fetus at a time. I guess now that Em doesn’t need him, maybe I’ll be the one in my bed with an open mind and open legs.”

  “Go get ’em, Bree,” I say as she and Drake take off.

  Skyla wraps her arms around me. “Did someone drop her on her head as a child?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe don’t leave the boys in her care. Like ever.”

  Tad limps up, neck brace firmly in place. “Did I hear someone herald my place of employment? In fact, I’m headed there now. Holiday be darned. Duty calls.”

  “Raven’s Eye.” Skyla nods as she looks up at me. “Tad’s got a new job on the island as a government watchman. Good old Arson Kragger and Demetri came through for him.”

  Shit. I’m afraid the government is simply watching Tad. It’s both convenient and brilliant, unlike my bumbling father-in-law.

  Lizbeth wraps her arms around her husband. “Demetri and I are so very proud of him. He’s going to do great things. We just know it.”

  Skyla gasps for the both of us. “Mom, you talk about Tad like he’s a child you share with Demetri. Would you just stop with your Edinger obsession? It’s beyond weird. Or sanitary.” She gives a quick glance to Misty who is Lizbeth and Demetri’s questionable love child.

  Tad balks as if he were the one Skyla just offended. “I would be honored to be that man’s son. The inheritance alone would put a spring in my step.” His brows form a hard V as he glares my way. “Greg, you should be walking on air just counting down the minutes until that old man of yours kicks the bucket. You’re going to be set up for life, kid.” He looks to Skyla. “It looks like you picked the right olive, after all.”

  Skyla groans like she might be sick. There are many things wrong with Tad’s deathly theory, the first being that there is even the remotest possibly of Demetri shedding his life. That will never happen. And whether or not Skyla chose the right Oliver is still very much up for debate.

  “Oh, hush, all of you.” Lizbeth is quick to wave us off. “Gage, I’ve made a fruit cake. Please give it to your mother when you see her this afternoon.”

  We take the twenty pound concoction, which Lizbeth promised was mostly rum, not sure if that will be a selling point to my mother—say goodbye to the entire Landon clan still busy swimming in wrapping paper, and pile into the car. It’s time to celebrate the holiday Oliver style. I’ve already got the greatest gift of all—I’m right back on Paragon with my friends and family.

  The drive out to Paragon Estates is magical. The happy gurgling sounds of the boys as they struggle to kick one another before bursting out in laughter melts me down to my newly formed bones. The sound of Skyla softly singing along to Christmas carols on the radio makes my heart soar just to have her near me. Her beauty outshines all of the enchantment this day has to offer. And as altruistic as it was holding back with her physically, I think tonight will indeed be a holy night if Skyla gets her way. And God knows I could never deny her a thing—not for long anyway. The purpose of waiting was simple. If I’m going to step away from our relationship in that respect, it’s best we don’t head down that path. Those words Demetri uttered to me in paradise still tie my stomach up in knots. Love Skyla. He later informed me that I should keep her as my wife, renew the vows, that he’d host the ceremony himself. It sounds too good to be true, yet I don’t know if it’s possible. I’m not human. That covenant isn’t technically meant for me.

  As soon as we hit the guard tower and enter into the Estates, the road widens with a yawn. White wooden bridle trails line either side and evergreens engulf the scenery just beyond that. Most of the residents behind the gates qualify as one percenters sans my parents and Skyla and me, of course. My God, the Walsh house. I let out a sigh. How easy it would be just
to step into my old shoes. To take my life back in one quick gulp. Skyla would never have to fear losing me, not physically anyway.

  On the left my childhood home appears, snow white with a line of matching rosebushes dotting the periphery. The house looks cheery and bright, like the warm countenance of an old friend welcoming you back after a long hiatus.

  We pull into my parents’ driveway and unload the boys in record time. No sooner do we hit the front door than the boys both start shouting, “Amma!”

  “They’re trying to say Grandma.” Skyla wrinkles her nose, clearly unhappy with the close proximity of her own moniker with the boys.

  “Grandma,” I say it slow and loud to the boys, and both pair of bright blue eyes study my mouth as I repeat it.

  Nathan and Barron parrot it back in turn, and the door swings open. Both my mother and father stare blankly at me, stunned, thunderstruck, faces white with shock then pink with color as they animate back to life.

  In seconds, bodies fall over me—arms pull me in, tears wet the front of my shirt, my shoulders as my parents weep with joy.

  “What’s going on?” Liam appears, then Logan by his side, and soon they too glom onto the dog pile.

  “Gage!” a female voice shrills, and I don’t even have to look up to know that’s G’s voice. My baby sister whom I’ve missed so damn much. It takes ten solid minutes of weeping, of shaking out every emotion known to man before the bodies lift off me one by one, my mother’s being the last.