Throne of Fire

by Addison Moore

  A dull huff expels from me. “You sure were a minute ago when you threw me under that bus the Viden Spectators were driving. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were a real piece of work.”

  His dimples dig in deep. “I’m sorry,” he mouths the words.

  “All right.” Coop tosses his hands in the air. “I’m out.” He nods to my mother. “You mind giving me a lift?”

  She steps toward him, the air humming in her wake. “Are you pleased with the outcome?”

  “The only outcome that could ever please me is Laken back in my arms where she belongs.” He glowers at her a moment. “Just know this. I will do anything to get her back, to heal her mind, and her heart. I’m open to suggestions if you’ve got any.”

  A brief standoff ensues, and my mother looks as if she’s considering her options. “We shall see, Mr. Flanders. Though time passes painfully in a state such as yours, it is ever on your side.” She flicks her fingers. “Be gone.”

  Soon it’s just Gage and me left of our motley crew, and I wrap an arm around his waist even though I really feel like strangling him. I’m pretty pissed about that entire Viden exchange, and as soon as we land back in our bedroom, I’m going to blast him a new one. Not now, though. Around my mother we need to maintain a united front, because deep down, no matter how many busses we throw one another under, we are still very much that—united. I’ll just have to get used to Gage opposing me. It’s the nature of our new relationship, and I’ll take it if it means solidifying him in my life and in my bed.

  Now it’s my turn to glower at my mother. “Can we see Sage? And Daddy?”

  “No.” Her features harden the way mine do when I’m morbidly ticked. She grazes a quick glance to Gage. “I’m not through with either of you. In fact, I’m inviting a few others to the party.”

  A breeze picks up to our left, and Logan Oliver materializes in all his resurrected—reanimated splendor, and as much as my natural instinct is to offer a welcoming smile, I resist the urge. Logan has been on my shit list ever since he crashed another party Gage and I were a part of, a far more private event.

  “Skyla.” He nods my way before offering a tight smile to Gage. I know they duked it out that night because Gage came home with a fat lip. It made me wonder, though, if he came home sporting that physical defect in his otherwise perfect body simply for my viewing pleasure—or if his resurrected body still indeed needed time to heal. Of course, it healed as quickly as a Celestra has the capability to. We can’t heal ourselves of everything, but for minor infractions it’s pretty miraculous. Gage has told me that he needs to partake of the fruit from the Tree of Life, drink from the river that feeds its roots.

  I open my mouth to protest whatever vaginal coo my mother is staging, but before I can get a word out, Marshall materializes in all his glory, his hair, his skin shimmering, his muscular frame looks that much more pronounced even if he is wearing a dark suit with a svelte white tie. Marshall is glorious in any realm, but in this one, the realm he truly belongs in, he radiates a brilliance too magnificent for the English language to ever relay, and it takes my breath away.

  Just as I’m about to greet him, a dark fog percolates next to him and, lo and behold, the abomination of desolation appears, Chloe Bishop.

  She quickly inspects the crowd before looking to my mother and bleeding that dark smile. “Looks as if there’s going to be a party.”

  “Yes, well”—I take a firm hold of Gage’s hand—“you’re the party pooper, Chloe. As far as I’m concerned, the party is over. I’d like to be dismissed.”

  “Silence,” my mother barks so loud even the celestial beings chattering up a storm behind her cease all conversation. Her eyes narrow to slits of silver as she glowers over at me. “Skyla.” Her affect changes on a dime as she relaxes her features, but she’s not fooling me. This is a master class on manipulation as far as I’m concerned. “I promise, the last thing I will do is manipulate you.”

  A laugh bubbles from me without meaning to. “My God, you’re a comedian. All you’ve ever done is manipulate me. I am in fact nothing more than a sock puppet for your manipulation and so is everyone else in this proverbial room.”

  “Not true.” Marshall’s chest expands as wide as a wall. “Ms. Messenger, if I might suggest, consider in whose presence you stand and accept what is required of you.”

  My jaw goes slack. “I’ll accept what I wish to accept. The Master gave me free will—the point of which seems to have evaded both you and my mother.”

  Marshall and my mother exchange an amused glance.

  “Skyla”—Chloe closes her eyes as if her own exasperation with me has reached its pinnacle—“hear the woman out so I can get back to planning Miller’s bachelorette party. Some of us have better things to do than stand here all day waiting for certain entities to get their point across.” She clucks her tongue at my mother, and I’m shocked my mother allows it to remain in her mouth.

  “Chloe is right.” My mother moves in closer to our peculiar lineup. “Skyla, have you considered what Logan has suggested?”

  “That I kick Gage to the curb and warm his bed? I don’t need to consider it. It’s not happening.”

  Her face bleaches of all color, but I’m guessing it’s not with shock or disappointment, more likely white-hot rage.

  “Sector Marshall.” She closes her eyes as Marshall rushes to her side and lands a hand to her shoulder.

  “Allow me.” He turns my way with his head tipped down, his brows arched as if he were amused, and I can’t help but note he looks especially delicious and how I hate myself for thinking it. “Skyla. I’ll say it plainly so that Ms. Bishop can get back to planning Shelly’s big night. Do not yoke yourself with the enemy. It will not prove prudent. Think wisely, though your heart sways you from the east bow to the west. You must do what’s just for your people. As much as it pains me to relegate you to The Pretty One, I will say he comes from spectacular lineage.”

  “And that would be you.” I glare at him for so brazenly siding with my mother.

  Marshall exhales as if it’s a pointless effort to pursue, and it is. “Skyla, yes, Logan has a minutia of what my celestial majesty has to offer.” He holds his arms at his side. “Though you crave the original, wait for it. Our day will come, my love.”

  Chloe gags as if she’s about to vomit.

  “Oh, please,” I hiss over at her. “Bree told me all about that conversation you had with her last week where you plotted how to best gain access into his bedroom. I’ll give you a hint. For a pig like you, he’d take you in the barn.”

  “Skyla!” my mother snaps as if I just smashed a thousand year old heirloom against the wall. “Do not relegate her to a pig, of all creatures. She is your Celestra sister.”

  “She used my husband’s head as a vibrator!” I riot so loud the air around us warbles.

  Chloe steps over, red-faced, nostrils flaring. “What was I supposed to do? Use it as a white elephant gift? I waited years for that boy to kiss me, and I wasn’t about to miss out. His corpse was rotting, for God’s sake. Time was of the essence.”

  The room rumbles, and the ground shakes a few seconds too long.

  “Enough!” My mother slices the air with her hands like a referee. “Gage, do you understand the importance of my daughter’s welfare?”

  “Don’t answer that.” I give his hand a hard tug. “I am standing right here. How dare you treat me like my opinion didn’t even matter.”

  “It matters,” she thunders so loud, it feels as if she blew out both my eardrums. “So get it together, Skyla. Open your mind as wide as your heart and look to the global interests of others. You cannot bed the enemy and believe the warfront will not be compromised.”

  “We’re not in a war.” Are we? Shit. I glance to Marshall for help, and he growls my way like a rabid beast. Again, vexingly sexy. No wonder Chloe is planning a panty coup.

  My mother steps in alarmingly close, her warm breath on my face. “You will be.”


  I look to Gage. “Only you and I can initiate battle, and I vow not to do it.”

  His eyes expand ever so slightly and my heart thumps hard because he’s pausing far too long, and here we had the perfect chance to show everyone that we’re a united front.

  “I won’t either,” he says it low, unconvincingly.

  “There. His word is his bond.” I shudder while manufacturing a smile for all to see. I look directly at Logan. “There will be no war. Celestra is safe.” I look to Marshall, then my mother. “The Sectors are safe. Life will resume, status quo. You’re welcome. Please return us all to the upright earthly position. God knows Chloe has her party planning to tend to. I’d hate to miss that malfeasance filled night. Please do put me on the guest list,” I say without looking at the beast.

  “Done,” she chirps before stepping over. Chloe walks hypnotically toward us, her eyes locked over Gage as if he were her target and, of course, he is. Looks as if the status quo begins right here. “Skyla—” She rolls her eyes, and something about her tone followed by that action brings me right back to those West Paragon days when Chloe was the lead bitch in cheer. She’s still the lead bitch, I’ll give her that. “Gage is lying to you. He doesn’t mean it. He can’t help it. Your mother is right. I’m not kissing anyone’s ass here. And Dudley is right, too.” She glances back and winks. “For some people, I might be up for the puckering action.” Figures. And shockingly a spear of jealousy rips through my stomach. I firmly blame Marshall’s magnified glory for that. He’s far less dangerous on Earth. Not by much, though. “You and Logan belong together. As soon as you stepped on that island, the enemy pushed Logan into hiding and you into Gage Oliver’s arms. You’ve been had, Skyla. Yes, you love him. Blah, blah, blah. Nobody gives a shit. If you don’t let your better judgment prevail, you will miss out on the true love of your life. You will end up in a war you cannot win. And both Celestra and the Sectors will be knocked off their gilded little pedestals. You will fuck this up, and you will fuck it up good for everyone. And when you do? Remember my words. I’ll be right there to say I told you so. But for the very first time, I won’t be happy about it.” She steps in close and lands her hand over Gage’s cheek, her thumb rubbing over the stubble as if she had the right.

  “Let go or I’ll kill you right here, save you the trip home because you won’t be leaving.”

  She swallows audibly while bearing hard into Gage’s stormy eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says it low as her body dissipates, and my mother quietly blinks her out of this realm.

  Logan strides over, and my eyes are heavy as they look to his. I never meant to hurt him, but he gave me no choice.

  “Skyla”—he holds out a hand, and I can feel Gage stiffen next to me—“can I talk to you in private a moment?”

  I glance to Gage, and he inches back with a look that says do whatever you wish.

  “Yeah, sure.” I bypass Logan’s offer to hold my hand and jet past him a good five feet. Whatever he needs to say, this is as far as I’m willing to go to listen. My eyes meet with those citrine orbs that have always held the power to sway me to do just about anything, kill, inadvertently start a war. Sorry, not this time. I’ve just met my hard limit, and I’m about to make that point crystal clear.

  “Skyla.” He presses out a sad smile, showing off that dimple I gave him, and my heart pricks with pain. Right about now I hate how much I love Logan. It’s an odd thought to have, a strange feeling altogether, but my heart aches to the point of bursting, and I want nothing more than to crawl into bed with my baby boys, far away from talk of bedmates, wars, rumors of wars, and Logan Oliver’s soul-sucking eyes. “I love you.” His lips twitch a brief smile. “You won’t like what I have to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. You are my destiny. You always have been. Our union is blessed and will bless our people. Gage is nothing more than a clever scheme the enemy devised. The fact you fell in love with him only pleased Demetri.” I can see the boys, floating in his eyes as he questions whether or not he should go there.

  Tears blur my vision. I’m blind with fury.

  “Do not do it. Do not suggest my boys were a mistake,” I grit it through my teeth, my body bucking with emotion.

  Logan steps in so close, his lips are in prime kissing range. That won’t happen. Ever. Again.

  “Know this”—his features harden as if he’s just as pissed as I am—“each time you sleep with him, you are cheating on me.”

  My hand connects to his cheek so quickly, so very loud, I’m almost sorry Chloe missed the show. Not to worry, though. I’ll reenact it for her with her own face later.

  “Skyla Laurel Messenger,” my mother hums with such a fierce rage you’d think I just nuked an entire nation.

  Logan begins to dissipate, his body translucent, those sad eyes still pinned to mine right up until he is no longer in existence, but even with him gone I can’t seem to take my next breath.

  Gage comes over and wraps his arms around me, lands a gentle kiss to my lips. “I love you.” He dives a kiss just over my ear. “Do not be afraid. Do not be intimidated. We aren’t going anywhere. I promise you that. Our family is a ring of steel that cannot be broken.” His arms loosen as his own body begins to evaporate, and I see the beginnings of a dark smile on my mother’s face as I look right through his ghostly shoulder.

  A tiny bouncing being runs in from behind her with long, dark, glossy hair, eyes that shine like sapphires in the sun, the look of fear in her eyes. “Daddy!” Sage cries out just as he fully disappears. “Where did he go? Why did he leave?” she demands abruptly.

  “I’d like to know the same thing. Ask your testy grandmother.” I fall to my knees and hold out my arms, but Sage turns her nose up at me.

  “Your Grace, I command you to bring him back here. That’s my father, and it’s rare I get to spend time with him as it is,” she barks it out like a spanking, and I’m markedly amused.

  Marshall comes over and offers me a hand, helping me back to my feet.

  “Sage.” I grip her in a hard embrace from behind, burying my nose in her hair, just taking in the scent of fresh spring flowers.

  “Do not touch me,” she hisses while violently bucking her way out of my arms.

  “Sage,” I plead with my tone, my anguished face, but her miniature features are unflinching with their hatred for me. “I’m your mother. I love you. There isn’t anything in the universe that will ever change that. Please, soften your heart toward me. I want to get to know you, have a relationship with you. I crave you. My bones shake to hold you at night. Please, just one more touch.” I hold out a hand, and she bats it away.

  “Sector Marshall, collect your betrothed and both of you be gone. I’m not in the mood to entertain misfits.” She turns to glower at my mother as if Marshall and I were already gone.

  “I’m not a misfit, Sage.” It comes out curt as I spin her around by her miniature elbow. “I am your mother, the very reason you exist at all. And I don’t know what they’re teaching you here, but I don’t appreciate the way you speak to others. This is clearly something we’ll have to work on.”

  She yanks her elbow free and takes a few stalking steps in close, her eyes dark with fury. I can feel the hate emanating off of her like toxic fumes, and my spirit dies just a little bit right there as it becomes painfully apparent I will never have her heart. My mother has poisoned it just like she’s trying to poison my life with Gage.

  Sage closes the distance between us in that elongated lavender robe with its gold sash, her eyes set off by the hue and they look a beautiful shade of deep purple at this proximity. But her face is strewn with wrath and fury, the unmistakable look of disgust, and I can’t stomach it.

  “Any enemy of my father’s is an enemy of mine. You are my mother in name only. Do not fawn over me as if I were a helpless infant. You have my brothers for that.” She spews it with such venom I fear for Nathan and Barron. She’s couldn’t hate them, could she? She presses in close, her glowing flesh illuminates sublime
in this incandescent light. “We will be at war soon. Father and the Fems have every right to pull you from your paper throne and burn to cinder that shield of protection the Sectors have erected around your people. Without the Sectors you will be like a worm under my heel, and I will take personal pleasure in grinding you into the ground. You are not to revere me as your daughter. I am no such thing. I belong to him and him alone. You may not utter my name, you may not think of me, nor may your wicked heart bleed for me. I too shall be a mighty ruler one day. Mark my words, Mother. Your knee will bow to me as well as my father.”

  “That’s enough,” my mother riots the words out like an earthquake of great magnitude. “You may leave now, Sage. I will share words with you later.” Her voice is tender and kind all of a sudden as if she too were relegated to walking on eggshells with her, and Sage sprints off into the distance, screaming as if she were filled with terror.

  Marshall strides up and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “That was a pleasant exchange. Shall we leave now, Ms. Messenger?”

  My mother holds up a finger, her serious eyes contending with mine. “I’ll deal with Sage. Skyla, you must put aside the flesh and think with your spirit. Think of your people, of the Sectors. You are in grave peril. You will need to distance yourself from the enemy, and the sooner you accomplish this task the better.”

  “Leaving the love of my life is not a task, Mother.” A boulder locks up the rest of the words ready to flood from me.

  Her hand lands over my cheek in a loving show of affection, as her features soften, her eyes letting me know there is pity in her heart for me. “I realize this, dear. But you are strong and brave. Logan—he is the true love of your life. The one you are pining for—the second best. You must understand that the love you feel for him, though admittedly heartbreakingly real, is something that simply cannot be. When you first arrived on Paragon, you, yourself, sought out Logan because deep down you understood what I’m telling you now. But the enemy wove its web around you, cocooned you in its lies, and you have embedded yourself in its snare. The dark fed you the lie, and you ate it up like a morsel, the most delicious dessert. Gage Oliver is handsome, strong, zestfully in love and devoted to you, but he is not the one. Deep in your innermost being I see you crave to have them both. You have an equal desire. This is not of nature, Skyla.”