Throne of Fire

by Addison Moore

  “I don’t have the power.” I hated every syllable that just left my mouth. “I won’t until Christmas.”

  He closes his eyes a moment. “I’ll pull together a few of the Levatio converts.”

  A dry laugh bumps from me. “Trust me, by Halloween night, the Steel Barricade will be brimming with them. There’s not a soul in their right mind that will stay away.” I clasp my hand over his and shake it. “We win, brother.”

  His features darken. Gage may not want to win, but he must. There is a very fine line there. “We win.”

  Laken labors through unimaginable agony. The cords in her neck distend to ropes as she tries to power through the heaviest of contractions, all the while stubbornly refusing any medical aid.

  Hours bleed by, and it’s apparent the pain has only magnified. In the middle of a tense contraction, Laken’s death grip on my hand loosens a moment, her face bleeds out all color, and her body sits motionless as she gazes vacantly ahead. And just like that, before I could ask a single question, a roar evicts from her lungs so powerful she shakes the roof on this dusty castle.

  “Ezrina!” I riot. “Give her something, right now.”

  “No!” Skyla shrieks, landing by Laken’s side. “Look at me, girl. You can do this. You’re almost there. You’ve already done the hard part.”

  “No way.” Laken shakes her head defiantly, and a flood of relief surges through me. “I can’t take another one like that. Ezrina, please, help before it hits again.”

  Coop and Skyla exchange tense glances. Fuck them both. They only think they have Laken’s best interests in mind.

  Ezrina pulls on a fresh pair of gloves as Heathcliff arranges a blanket to act as a tent around Laken’s legs protecting her modesty, which I appreciate and I know she does, too.

  Ezrina digs around, her eyes set to a corner in the ceiling. “I apologize.” She looks to Laken, slipping off her gloves and tossing them into the receptacle next to her. “The child is coming. You’ll be required to push in just a few minutes.”

  “No!” Laken explodes in an agonizing wail. “I don’t care about pushing. I need something, anything to take the edge off!” she pleads, sobbing through every other word.

  Ezrina doesn’t say a thing—simply helps Heathcliff in preparing for an imminent birth.

  “Wesley.” Laken’s head lashes from side to side as if delirium were kicking in. Another contraction grips her, and her howls singe the hair off my brows. Everyone in the room freezes, paralyzed with fear due to the misery she’s embroiled in. If I could trade places with her, I’d do so in a heartbeat. But the baby doesn’t come in the next few minutes like Ezrina had promised. Instead, Laken is left to wallow in horrifying physical distress for the better part of an hour.

  “Ezrina!” I bark as Laken’s latest contraction subsides momentarily. I head over and yank the witch aside by force. “You’ve purposely denied her medication. You did this. You lied, and I know why.”

  She yanks her arm free and growls at me, “I cannot control the human body. Just the way you apparently cannot control your temper.” She storms off just as Laken extends her hand for me. She still wants me. She’s been through hell, and nothing has changed. I force myself to find comfort in that.

  Ezrina checks her again and offers the hint of a smile my way. “It’s time.” She looks to Laken. “You’ll push with the next one.”

  My heart soars right through my chest. My adrenaline surges to unsafe levels as I take up her hand, Coop takes up her other, but I don’t say a word. He’s been here the entire time, and if he brings her an ounce of comfort, it was worth it.

  Laken pushes for an hour. Nothing easy. Nothing at all like Kresley.

  “Crowning,” Ezrina announces, and I take my position. The shoulders bulge out, and this time I know exactly what to do. I pull out the precious being and cast my eyes over this little one who holds a very special place in my heart.

  “It’s a girl!” I shout, and the room erupts with cheers. “My girl.” I pull her in and kiss her before laying her over Laken’s chest. We cry tears of joy as Ezrina works to clean her up, and even though it’s a repeat for me today, it feels new in every single way. Just as if it were the first time.

  She’s beautiful, just like her mother. A touch of blonde peach fuzz covers her pink head. Her cry is quieter than Eli’s, the soft bleating of a lamb, her eyes a light shade of what seems to be murky green. But those bowtie ruby lips, they slay me. I’m all hers. She already has me wrapped securely around her little finger, just like her sister. She’s so small and fragile, so much more feminine even at this early stage in the game than the little boy in the next room.

  Ezrina takes a swab of the inside of her cheek. “Paternity to be determined.” She nods to me as she exits the room.

  I have no fear over what the results will be because I know them. I know that Laken and I are meant to be together, and I know that this is the child we were destined to have.

  Laken looks to Cooper. “Isn’t she precious? I guess you were right. I was too sweet to have boys.” She gives a little chuckle and winks at Skyla.

  Coop looks to Skyla a moment. “Laken”—he touches her cheek softly—“do you remember where we were when we said that?”

  “Sure,” she says, nestling our beautiful daughter over her flesh. “We were at that ridiculously small apartment at Host. The one Skyla and Gage crashed that one time.” She wrinkles her nose at Skyla before her mouth falls open. “Oh my God. I remember.” A laugh bubbles in her chest. “Cooper.” She looks to him with her head tilted in adoration. “Oh my goodness. I remember you—my friend, my husband.” She shakes her head as if relishing the thought and then, just like that, her features darken. “Oh my God…I’m so sorry about all the pain I’ve caused you.”

  My heart stops. The world around me crashes to a grinding halt, and it feels as if all of the joy, the blessings that this day has brought forth have been yanked from underneath me.

  Shit. Here it is. The moment of reckoning.

  Laken gasps as she looks to me, horror filling her eyes.

  You could shoot me with a nail gun to the eye, set my balls on fire, and I wouldn’t feel a thing.

  “Wes”—she whispers, cradling the baby closer to her neck as if pulling it as far away from me as possible—“I remember. I remember getting into the car. They told me you sent it.” She shakes her head. “I remember the terror I felt when they said I was headed to Raven’s Eye.” A horrible groan comes from her. “You rescued me. You put Kresley in my place.” You can feel the regret, the disappointment emanating from her like vibrations before a very powerful quake. Laken reaches her hand my way, and I’m stunned to see it. I take it and offer up a kiss to the back.

  “I’m sorry, Laken.” My voice shakes. “I’m sorry for everything. All I have ever wanted to do was love you. I promise you that.”

  “I know.” She looks to Cooper and winces. “I still love you, Coop.” She shakes her head. “But these last few months—I can’t deny them. I remember you, and I remember us—but…” Laken glances to Skyla. “I don’t know quite how to say this without hurting anyone—but I don’t quite feel anything. It’s as if I were watching a movie about somebody else’s life and I’m recalling scene after scene.” She shrugs over at Cooper. “I’m sorry. My feelings—they’re the same as they were yesterday.”

  And just like that, I can breathe again. Laken loved me yesterday. She loves me today. And she will love me forever—with or without any memory she shared with Cooper Flanders.

  “My feelings aren’t hurt,” Coop assures her, his chest panting like a baboon in heat. It’s clear his hopes have skyrocketed, and I’d love nothing more than to deflate him like a balloon, send him hurtling back to planet Earth. “This will probably take time.” My God, I hope he’s wrong. “Your memory is being restored. That’s all that matters. And you have a sweet new baby.”

  “Yes, we do.” Laken smiles adoringly at the tiny angel lying quiet in her arms. My stomach
soured when she said we. Sorry, Coop. There will be no we as far as Laken goes, not for you anyway.

  “What’s her name?” Skyla brushes her finger over the baby’s precious scalp.

  “I don’t know. I had a few names in mind if it was a girl. Wes and I have been jockeying names back and forth for months now but never really settled on anything. Our top three were Matilda, Cider—for Cider Plains, or Riley, but I don’t think any of those quite fit.”

  “How about Charlotte?” Cooper touches his finger to the baby’s hand, and she wraps her tiny fingers around him so hard they press white.

  Skyla and Laken break out in coos. It might be a soul-melting sight for them, but my blood is boiling, and it takes everything in me not to shove Flanders out of the room.

  “Charlotte?” Laken softens as she lifts her gaze to me. She loves it, I can tell. “We can call her Charlie. How adorable is that?”

  Skyla clears her throat. “It sort of goes with Tobie. You know, both of their nicknames are tomboyish. It’s really cute that way.”

  “Charlie.” My heart feels full just looking at Laken with our sweet daughter lying over her chest. I want to die happy just like this, so full of love—another ounce might push my soul right out of my body. “It’s perfect.”

  “Then Charlie it is.” Laken blesses the newborn with a kiss. “Charlotte Grace Edinger.”

  Coop glowers at me a moment just as the baby dislodges from him and begins to stir.

  I lean in and kiss both Laken and the baby. “I love you, Charlie Grace.”

  Laken pulls me in and kisses me on the lips in full view of everyone in the room. “I love you, Wes.” She blinks a sad smile, and I steal all the hope it’s willing to give me.

  “Ezrina’s here.” Gage taps me on the back, and I rise to greet her.

  Ezrina steps in close, her crimson hair wild and frayed as if she ran all the way from the lab. Her dark, spiteful eyes bear holes into my skull as if she were trying to set me on fire by sheer will.

  “Congratulations, Wesley. You have another daughter.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Coop hang his head in defeat and it knifes me, but there’s too much brand new joy in my world to deal with him now.

  Skyla lets out an incredulous breath as she looks to Cooper. “Get another paternity test. She’s a liar. She can’t be trusted.”

  Laken gasps. “Skyla!”

  I nod to Gage to get Skyla the hell out, and he folds his arms over her body.

  “If you’re not telling the truth, I want you out of Whitehorse, Ezrina.” Skyla’s voice is tight with the threat. “I saved Tobie, and this is how you repay us? I hope you’re happy.”

  Gage manages to settle Skyla down, and they offer their congratulations before filing out of the room. One by one everyone leaves, with Coop being the last, his stoic yet tearful goodbye the most gut-wrenching to witness.

  Ezrina brings me Eli and hands him to me as I sit down next to Laken. “His mother needs to sleep. Perhaps you can mind the little man for a while? I’ll be back in the morning. Call if I’m needed.” She touches her hand over Laken’s forehead as if reading for a fever. “You did well. Enjoy the fruit of your labor, child.”

  And with that, she turns to leave. “Thank you, Ezrina,” I say as she hits the door, and she turns with a look I can’t quite read, don’t know if I want to.

  “You’re welcome, Wesley.”

  Laken and I fawn over our new family, our new children, our new life. Not once does she lament her past with Cooper. It all seems so normal, so very right.

  Laken and I have finally come out the other side of this nightmare, together, as one, just the way it was meant to be all along.

  At least I hope so.

  5

  The Final Woe: This is War

  Skyla

  September rises and falls like an angry sea. Mia and Melissa are officially seniors. Life in all of its ages and stages is hurtling past us at the speed of light. For as much as I’d like to hold onto the moment, the present is just as slippery as the past. Each day in and of itself seems alarmingly banal, and, yet as a whole, time is striding forward as if it were in a cosmic hurry—as if it had better places to be, better people to be with.

  Laken is completely smitten with her sweet Charlie, as are the boys. I’ve brought them to the Transfer almost every day since she’s given birth—of course, I bring Cooper. Her memory is back. Back. And yet she refuses to leave Wesley’s side as if he’s put a spell on her. Laken has grown accustomed to the dank and darkness, the privacy from a weary world that Wesley’s hellhole has to offer. Laken remembers her love for Cooper—but only from a distance as if it were a movie she watched once and remembered that she liked it. But her heart, all of her affection is staunchly with Wes. Ezrina seems to think that her emotional memory is still somehow stunted—that given a few more jarring events, that too will loosen like a rusty bolt that needs to be struck severely before it will give. My God. Cooper. I have never seen a man destroyed this way before. But he holds himself strong around her. He holds himself lethal around Wesley.

  September ended up blowing itself out like a birthday candle. October rushed in to take its place like a stand-in groom all too eager to please. The sky poured down one storm after another, the streets flooded like rushing milkshake rivers, rusty and thick with debris as if Paragon had never seen the rain. The water swelled three feet in some areas. The news showed residents on the east side of the island paddling down their streets in kayaks. Paragon is drowning, and I can’t help but feel as if it’s a symptom of a much larger disease. It’s too quiet. Yes, Gage and I have promised peace between the Factions, to be sealed at midnight, November twenty-third, at the hour where my birthday and his collide. It’s perfect, and it will be just that—perfect for seven years. And beyond that if I can help it, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.

  “Skyla, Skyla!” my mother chimes in a gleeful voice from across Marshall’s expansive yard. It’s late afternoon on the spookiest day of the year, Halloween, and we’ve been working nonstop putting the finishing touches on any and everything before the party. Demetri wanted to host the night at his rebuilt, regenerated mega mansion, but Gage and I wouldn’t hear of it. Marshall agreed we could have it here. I promised Wesley that I would make sure Tobie got the full princess treatment, so instead of the usual evening fright, we’re hosting a little birthday bash in honor of October Edinger’s second birthday this afternoon—the evening fright will most assuredly come later once the wee ones go home for the night.

  Mom is elated by the kiddie party as evidenced by the fact she’s tossing pumpkin décor left and right as if it were flower petals as she skips on over. This is the first time in a long while that I’ve seen her so full of life. Thanks to some debacle on Raven’s Eye that had to do with Kresley’s release, Tad was charged with felony menacing charges and has been permanently dismissed from his post on that haunted island. It turns out, the government frowns on the fact he supposedly unleashed the oversized killer Spectators, and in the ensuing chaos they lost their one and only prized prisoner, Kresley Fisher. I’m not even sure they know her real name or Laken’s. Kres says she never said a single truth to them, no matter what they did to her, and apparently, they poked and prodded, and didn’t mind one bit to make themselves at home with her body. Ezrina has since reconstructed Kresley’s face back to a semi-recognizable version of what she used to look like, but her nose is a bit too pinched, her lips have that cut and paste look to them now. Laken is thrilled to be an original once again. Wes has vowed to protect her, and that usually means trouble for the rest of us. Laken’s safety is a hazard all the way around.

  Anyhow, Tad’s mounting legal fees have been crushing on the family, and shockingly to both my mother and me, Demetri has yet to offer to come to the rescue. Instead, he appointed a renowned attorney with ties to the Counts, a man by the name of Darnester Lester. Yes, he is as greasy as his name suggests. Good old Darny charges by the hour and isn
’t as slow to bill as he is to drag his feet during conference calls.

  “What is it?” I call out as I herd the boys into the small petting zoo Demetri had installed for Tobie’s party. Yes, Demetri is still staunchly throwing around his money where his granddaughter is concerned—Marshall’s property be damned, and it just might be tonight.

  The boys are already dressed in their Halloween costumes as cowboys with the requisite adorable brown leather boots and cowhide vests with tiny fringes rimming the edges. They have the most darling mini ten gallon hats to go along with it, but I’m pretty sure they’ve fed them to the llamas by now since I can’t find them anywhere. Demetri and my mother bought the country attire for all the kids, Tobie included.

  “Piggies!” Nathan cries as he and his brother charge for the gate. Both Nathan and Barron are massively obsessed with the guinea pigs and scream with delight each time one pecks at them. Thankfully, Demetri has hired a staff to maintain the safety of the animals and the children. God forbid we have a small mammal go rogue and lop off a toddler’s ear. Misty and Ember are already in love with the miniature goats, and I’ve seen Beau kicking at least three piglets. All is well and fairly normal for our destructive crew.

  “Great news!” Mom leaps in the air, and her feet do an odd little pirouette that both alarms and impresses me. I haven’t leapt that high since that one night Gage and I—oh, never mind. “You will never believe the blessed news I just received.” Her hand falls suspiciously over her abdomen, and I gasp at the sight.

  “Oh God, no.” A vision of my mother with a beach ball belly swirls through my mind. “Please tell me Demetri did not knock you up again.”

  Her mouth falls open—an entire unhinging of the jaw takes place. I kid you not, I think oral surgery might be required within the hour. It occurs to me that I’ve never actually confronted my mother on Misty’s paternity, but what the hell. I’ve known about it for so long it’s common knowledge to the both of us.