Throne of Fire

by Addison Moore

  “That’s for Kresley.” Mom’s features crumble on cue.

  “Oh.” Crap. I pump a quick smile over at Skyla. “Where is Kres, anyway?” I frown at the door as if she were about to materialize into the room, and knowing Kres, she just might.

  Skyla clears her throat as she shoots Logan a quick look.

  “She hasn’t been around lately.” My mother sighs. “You know it’s been close to a year since I’ve seen the girl, but she used to call almost every single day. She’s been so busy with school, triple majoring and everything.” Mom throws her hands in the air. “But now, she’s gone radio silent. In fact, I meant to ask Mr. Dudley about it while he was still here. He teaches over at Host. I thought he might know of some winter internship she might have signed onto.”

  Both Dudley and Demetri took off after dinner, and the entire household felt ten times lighter. Even G said it was time to get our party on once the door closed behind them. But I know for a fact that look Skyla and Logan shared suggests anything but an internship. Last I knew, Kresley was wearing Laken’s face.

  Mom takes off to cut into the half dozen pies she’s baked, and both Skyla and Logan swoop in on either side of me.

  “Kres is on Raven’s Eye.” Skyla’s eyes burst with crimson, and it alarms me because Kresley Fisher is the last person Skyla would shed a tear for. “It turns out, the reason Wes had her take on Laken’s features was nothing more than a demonic insurance policy. Aka in the event the government snatched Laken away.”

  Logan gives a heavy nod. “They had Laken for weeks until Wes made the swap.”

  Skyla hiccups with grief. “She can’t remember anything. She thinks she belongs back in Kansas—that she’s still with Wes. Coop is a mess.”

  “Shit.” I close my eyes, stunned at the magnitude of the disaster my brother has crawled into. “And what about Kres? Does Wesley have any plans other than to let her rot?”

  “I’m getting her out, Gage.” Skyla offers an eager nod. “I don’t know how, but I will not leave that girl on that island.”

  Mom comes in humming a Christmas carol while distributing her famous pumpkin pie, and I can’t help but note the irony of what’s just happened. Here my mother didn’t give Skyla a thing, but Skyla is about to risk it all just to get Kresley back on Paragon soil. That alone is a gift to my mother.

  My blood boils a moment. “Hey, Mom?” I take Skyla by the hand and lead two of the most important women in my life to the kitchen.

  Mom plasters a stiff grin on her face as she looks to Skyla with wild eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess there was something out of the norm going on between the two of them.

  “I want you to apologize to Skyla.” It comes out stern, a little pissed even.

  “Good grief.” She rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if this were an ongoing event. “For what in heaven’s name?”

  “For not so much as gifting her a merry Christmas. All that negative bull the two of you clung to while I was still alive, stops here, tonight. Skyla and I are family. We’re going to be together. I love her.” I can’t help but shed a wild grin over at the girl of my dreams because it feels as if I just told her I love her for the very first time. I look to my mother again. “You didn’t even get her a gift, for Pete’s sake. Come on. You’re going to tell me it just slipped your mind?”

  “Oh no.” Skyla bubbles with a laugh. “Don’t you worry, Gage. Your mother and I are far past the niceties a holiday like this requires. It’s no skin off my nose. Besides, I’m all stocked up on wool socks.” I frown because that happens to be my mother’s go-to gift for Skyla. “In fact”—she sharpens her sky blue eyes over at the woman in front of her—“why don’t you tell Gage your little secret? That can be your gift to us both.”

  My stomach bottoms out. “What secret?”

  Mom inverts her lips. The color in her face bleeds out until she’s winter white. Her eyes narrow in on Skyla’s with a look that could quite literally kill. “I’m afraid this isn’t the time or place.”

  My blood boils just hearing the excuse. “I’m afraid it is. Skyla, would you please leave the room a moment?”

  Skyla scoffs at the thought. “So she can hand-feed you a pile of make-believe fluff?”

  I can’t help but hold back a smile. I know she fought the urge to say bullshit, and that right there shows her ability to be the bigger person. Skyla may not be on the same page as my mother, but she insists on showing some respect.

  Silence eats up the room, and Skyla gives a little curtsy. “But since I will most certainly fill you in on the truth later, I suppose we can juxtapose notes.” She brushes a quick kiss over my cheek before ducking out of the room.

  “What’s going on?” I scour my mother’s features for the faintest clue, and yet she’s unreadable, unknowable, and in that respect, she’s not the mother I know at all.

  Mom steps in, her chin dipped to the floor, her eyes looking straight up at me, and the hard scowl on her face lets me know she’s not enthused about where Skyla just took us.

  “Demetri Edinger has always been a powerful man.” She pauses, her breathing becomes labored, and I can tell she’s struggling to maintain it. “My mother was a painter. She owned the gallery downtown for many years. One day I was working a showing by a local artist—you can take a wild guess who that might have been.”

  “Demetri?” All that weird shit he’s got stored in the nooks and crannies of that haunted estate of his comes to mind. “Let me guess, stick figures on Post-it notes and sand art?”

  “Sculptures.” She frowns over at the wall. “He was charming, and dashing, and knew all the right things to say—but he wasn’t interested in me.” A growl rumbles from her. “He had his heart broken by some woman back in Los Angeles, and everything he did, every sculpture he created, he poured all of his love for her into it. Everyone else was second rate at best. Every girl on the island was smitten by him. Of course, my heart was already sewn to your father’s. But Demetri”—her voice trails off as she gazes out into the dark frozen night—“I too grew intensely attracted to Demetri. But it wasn’t his comeliness that drew me in—although he wasn’t hard on the eyes.”

  I take a step in, careful not to break her trance. “What was it?”

  Her lips move, but not a sound comes out. She clears her throat. “It was—it was his power.” She blinks up at me, and the moonlight pouring in through the window bleaches her an unearthly hue. “My father passed away the summer before. My mother and I struggled in every area of our lives. Without my father around, my mother felt powerless, and I hated that about her. She let her confidence die right along with her husband, and I vowed that would never be me. I would have my own power—and Demetri could give me more than I could ever dream. We spent much time together.” A horrible sigh emits from her. “He shared his dreams of wanting another child.” She shakes her head. “He said he needed one. He had special plans for that child. The child that would be born to him in that season of his life would be the most powerful being to walk the earth since the Savior. And he would be a type of savior for his own people.” She takes a step toward the dark window as rain begins to pelt the glass. Her hand curves over her throat as if there were a need to protect it. “There was a window in time, and I grasped it. I tried to break things off with your father. We fought over nothing. He didn’t understand. And I wouldn’t tell him. But I needed to be a mother to that child. Demetri was attending an after party for one of his showings, and you know the rest. You are the rest.”

  “Oh my God,” I whisper with my nose pointed to the ground. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” she snaps as she turns back to me. “I love you, Gage.” Her cool hand cups my cheek with that maternal gaze she’s laid upon me for as long as I can remember, but layered underneath it is a frenzied look that makes me shudder. “Demetri left the island after that night. Your father and I were married almost immediately thereafter. I didn’t know that—that you were his. For so long I believed you
were Barron’s. I thought for sure if you were Demetri’s, he would have stepped into your life far sooner. And years later, when he moved back to Paragon permanently, I thought nothing of it. Until—”

  “Until it was revealed who I really was.” The weight of a boulder settles over my chest at the thought of that time in my life. “And once you realized it, what did you think then?”

  Pure elation takes over her features as she sputters a quiet laugh. “My God, Gage. It was more than I could have ever hoped for.”

  Her words send me staggering on my heels. How could she? How could the news not devastate her on some level? I swallow hard. “Skyla and I are going to head out now. We need to get the boys to bed.”

  She gives a quick nod, wiping her face down with the front of her apron. “I’ll help gather their things.”

  Skyla and I take a picture with the boys in front of the tree, and it feels right. It feels like a family tradition. There’s no way I’m doing what my father did. Planting his seed in my mother and taking off for seventeen years. And here he is grinning at me—at my wife and children like a freaking loon. Nope. I’m not showing up in my children’s lives when it’s convenient for me. I glance to Logan, and my heart breaks for him a little. He’s sacrificing everything for my family, and I appreciate it from the bottom of my brand new heart. It won’t go over well with Candace, but that’s not my problem. Yes, I’m taking the unsolicited advice of my father, from both of them. And this is one of those rare occasions I agree with Demetri. Nothing or no one is going to stand in the way of my family.

  “I’m here, Skyla,” I whisper into her ear as I steal a quick kiss. “Our family is back together for good.”

  Her arms swivel around my waist as she bats those long lashes my way. “Thank God. I’m so very thankful you’re back. You belong to me, Gage.” She offers the hint of a dangerous smile. “And don’t you ever forget it.” She wrinkles her nose up at me. “Maybe I’d better remind you. Get ready for a Christmas gift you will never forget.”

  A dark chuckle works its way up my throat. “Those sound like fighting words.”

  “They are. A battle and a conquest.” Her brows peak just as Michelle and Liam come over.

  Michelle wraps her arms around my uncle as she looks to Skyla. “Lexy, Chloe, and I are opening a new boutique downtown, The Enchanted Closet. Grand opening is coming up just after the new year.” She looks to Logan and Ellis as they close in our circle. “And rumor has it, New Year’s Evil is going to be spent in a barn.” She offers a sorrowful look. “Don’t make us regret it.”

  “Dude”—Ellis reaches over and slaps her five, and Michelle slaps his face playfully as well—“get ready to rock around the clock. Oliver and I got some serious shit planned. Ain’t that right, Logan?”

  Giselle bops over before Logan can open his mouth. “Did you tell them about the sea of foam?”

  Logan grunts, “No way. Sorry, G. No foam party. We haven’t even gotten off the ground. The cleaning fee alone would sink us.” He takes a moment to glare at Ellis.

  “We’ll see about that.” Harrison shoots me with his finger. “We might just have to go with plan F for foam. But don’t you worry, Miller. We’re going to blow those high heels off your feet.” Ellis and G take off and so do Michelle and Liam. It’s just Logan, Skyla, and me for a moment, and the three of us together really do make this homecoming feel complete.

  “Welcome back, man.” He offers up a firm embrace.

  “Welcome back, yourself.” I pat him on the arm. “I’ll come by and give you a hand with whatever you need to get the bowling alley ready for the big day.”

  “Sounds good.” He hugs Skyla, and her eyes cut to mine as if he just whispered in her ear. He pulls back and looks to me. “We need to get Laken back to Coop. Let’s get a plan of attack going on that front.”

  “And Kresley.” I wince.

  Skyla nods. “For sure, Kresley.”

  Logan takes off, and we say goodnight to my parents—my father with his warm embrace and tears of joy, and my mother with her stale smile that morphs into a grimace when she looks to my beautiful wife.

  We gather the boys and take off for Landon pastures.

  It was a merry Christmas, after all.

  The Landon house isn’t anyone’s idea of a dream home. Not when you’re shacking up there with your wife’s family. Not when your father-in-law is Tad Landon. The structure sits like a crooked haunted house with its wooden logs a little disjointed, gnarled and outright bucking around the flank. The purple sky frames it with just enough full-bellied clouds lingering over the chimney to remind you that rain is imminent. We haul the boys up to our bedroom, and each falls into his crib like a sack of potatoes.

  I sit back on the bed, and a weighted sigh depresses from me as I pull Skyla into my lap. “When do you want to go home?”

  She sucks in a quick breath. “I’m not sure.” She bites down over her lip. “It sort of feels like there’s a dark cloud over that place. I haven’t been back since—”

  I brush a finger over her lips and nod. “I know.” My gaze falls to her fuzzy oatmeal-colored sweater with sequins sewn in. “You shined like a star tonight, and you didn’t need the sweater to do it.”

  A smile pinches her lips. “Oh, really?” She giggles, peeling it off in one quick move. A pink bra holds the girls steady, playing peak-a-boo with the barely-there lace, and instantly I’m hard in all the right places. “Is that better?”

  “Much.” A dark laugh strums from me as I bend over and kiss each of the girls in turn.

  “So you’re good with us?” she asks shyly, her eyes dipping in to catch my gaze. The thin rail of light streaming in from the closet offers her an unearthly glow, lighting up her hair like a halo. “I mean, last night you didn’t want to—” She glances to the bed. “You seemed like you needed to think about things.”

  “Good news.” I give her hip a slight pinch, pulling us back onto the mattress together. “I’ve thought things through. Skyla, if you want this—knowing full well what the future holds for me—then I’m in one hundred percent. I’m here for the boys. For you. For us.”

  “Yes!” she cries as her entire body bucks over mine with relief. “Gage, we can do this!” She grips my hair at the temples, and the moonlight washes her features a fairy-tale blue. “Our love can transcend anything. My mother herself said we have the ability to change the future. I won’t even ask you to view my people as your own.”

  “Skyla,” I groan, and she lands a finger hard to my lips.

  “I’m serious, Gage. I don’t need you to hold Celestra in the air. I’m strong enough to do that. And I have a healthy support system.” Logan shoots through my mind, and I give a solemn nod. “But what I’m not strong enough to do is go through this life without you. And I get that you’re bound to Demetri. He is gifting you dominion. I get that you might fall victim to this trancelike spell he’s working on and eventually do your best to defeat me.” She quivers as she says it. “But you won’t defeat me. The only true way you could do that would be to reject our love. I don’t care about covenants, about life or death ripping them away. You are wholly my husband.” Her fingers ride down my chest, slow and seductive, and she gives the lip of my jeans a quick jostle. “And I think a little re-consummation is necessary now that you’re sporting a whole new body.” Her fingers sink down low as she grabs a handful, and I suck in a quick breath at the sensation. Skyla’s touch electrifies me. It sends a ripple of hardcore wanting, an ache so deep to have her. Skyla’s touch ignites a fire in me so bright, so hot, the only way to quench it is with Skyla herself.

  A laugh dies in my chest. “It felt good before—but things just got taken to a whole new level.”

  A giggle bursts from her lips, and just as she sinks a kiss over my mouth, the boys moan to life.

  Skyla gasps as she turns to view them. “No, no, no!” she cries as they both rise to their feet and begin to whimper and whine.

  “Shit,” I hiss under my brea
th. I love my boys, but I have to get more than a minute in with my wife. My budding hard-on is about to rip right through my jeans.

  “I know.” Skyla leaps out of bed and opens her laptop, cuing up a cartoon and turning it around so the boys can see. She hands each one a bottle from the diaper bag, and one by one they plop down on their bottoms, their eyes transfixed on the show as if they were in a heavy trance.

  She grabs me by the wrist and winks. “Don’t you judge me, Gage Oliver. Now get us to the butterfly room quick.” That devilish grin rides crooked on her lips. “That’s an order.”

  “Anything for you, my queen.”

  Skyla’s laughter lights up the room and dissipates right along with our bodies. Our overstuffed room, the lethargic boys in their cribs, the cartoon screaming into the night, all dissipate as the walls around us transform to sheer tranquility. Hundreds of electric blue butterflies bat their wings as they dot the walls of this thimble of a room in the attic. The butterfly room once belonged to Chloe. I hung out here with her once upon a time. And after I saw Skyla’s image reflected on the wall, I came up with the idea to cover them with butterflies made of tissue paper. We made them in a rainbow of colors, Chloe and me. But time moved on, Chloe died, Skyla moved in, and somewhere along the line, my powers burst to life, and by proxy so did these butterflies. Each one of them ignited a bright cobalt blue, the exact shade of my eyes. And now they fill this place with their soft light, giving it that romantic ambiance perfect for a moment like this—the night I make Skyla mine once again in every single way.

  “Off with your clothes, Oliver,” Skyla pants out the words, her chest rising and falling as if she ran a loop around the planet.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I peel off my shirt nice and slow, drop my pants, stepping out of my boxers and every other stitch of clothing until it’s just me, in my birthday suit—even though technically this coat of flesh was nowhere near the scene when the old me landed on the planet the first time.

  Skyla steps in looking every bit the enchantress, her hair spiking wildly over her shoulders, her lips parted, crystal eyes set on mine. “You are a work of art, twice over.”