Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5)

by Addison Moore

  “My mother is going to love her,” I say as a horrified Nev hops on by. “Marshall, you’re not going anywhere.” I bite his name into the fog as he pulls me into a warm, strong embrace.

  “Merry Christmas, Skyla—Young Oliver.” He pulls back and examines Logan. “You are most beloved by Your Grace Candace. In all of my years as a created being, never have I witnessed such favor bestowed on a mere mortal.” The muscles in his jaw pop with something just this side of anger. “But then, you’re not simply a mere mortal, are you, Logan Oliver? You have Celestra blood, enough to power a spiritual nuclear reactor.” He looks to me and brushes the hair from my eyes. “The two of you have a mission to complete. Candace has steered your destinies slowly like the rudder of a large ship, a battleship if you will. She has steered you through time, through wars, through life, and through death. There is nothing she will stop at to achieve her purpose.” He strides in, and an entire jumble of words cluster in my throat. “Wait! What about Gage? You were with him!” I shout, but the sound of “Jingle Bell Rock” drowns out all my words. “Crap.” I take Logan by the hand and we step outside, closing the door, dampening the sweltering heat and the noise for a moment.

  “Logan, I need him back.” My voice quivers. “The boys need him back. I hope you can understand that.”

  “Yes”—he pulls me up gently by the chin and forces me to look into those pleading eyes—“I’m still rooting for the two of you. Death isn’t strong enough to take you down. I know this.”

  A set of heavy footsteps shuffle from behind “What’s this? The welcoming committee?”

  We turn to find the devil himself ready to wreck the halls in his three-piece suit, his heavy wool coat over that. That perma-grin he wears is plastered on tight, and his eye gives a twinkle as if he were up to no good. I have zero doubt about that.

  “You’re never welcome,” I sneer. “Unless you have Gage. You could live here for all I care if you brought him with you.”

  That fake smile is quickly replaced with a frown. “Yes, well. I am sorry for your loss. The offer of residence is charming, however. I do have something for you, dear, something quite special. Do you remember last year’s gift?”

  “The one where you set Tad on fire? You can keep your gifts, Demetri. I don’t want them. They only bring people misery and suffering.”

  He gives a sober nod, his dark countenance even more frightening, lost in the evening shadows. “Perhaps that is the truth. Your gift will arrive in due time.”

  He opens the door and takes a step inside.

  “Oh, and Demetri!” I call after him. “Smooth move getting Tad a job on Raven’s Eye.” I shake my head in disgust. Tad Landon walked so willingly into that bear trap I wanted to cry for him.

  That painful smile returns to his face. “It was rather smooth, wasn’t it?” He shakes his head. “But it wasn’t entirely my doing.”

  “Right,” I mutter under my breath as the door seals behind him. “You ready to do this party, Logan?”

  His chest rumbles with a laugh as he presses a kiss to the back of my hand. “I’m ready to do this life.”

  We head on in, and the scent of mulling spices and burnt turkey enlivens the air. Emma shouts orders at Emily to get to the kitchen and help save Christmas. As if.

  Logan heads for Coop as I thread my way to the family room where my mother has yet a second tree set up. Both the one in the living room and this one are stark white this year. It seems my mother’s attention to every Emma detail is in full force. It’s a white winter wonderland in the Landon home with nary a stitch of green with the exception of mistletoe hung in every free doorway. But I won’t be kissing anybody outside of the boys, that’s for sure.

  Someone yanks me into the corner of the family room, and I spin to find Mia with a sleepy baby Nathan.

  “Guess what?” Her eyes flash with pride. Time has shaved off all of those little girl mannerisms and stolen the baby fat from her cheeks and hands. She looks every bit a true young woman. It’s her junior year at West. She’s in cheer and loving every Coach Bishop minute of it. In a way I envy her sans the Bishop part. “I heard Melissa talking to that freak Dominique Winters, and she says they’re doing favors for the Barricade. Of course, Melissa ate it up like an evil dessert. No offense, but she’s all over getting herself into a position of power in that effed-up institution.” She leans in, and Nathan drools over her shoulder, leaving a soil stain on her silk dress. “Personally, I think she’s acting out because she can’t land herself a man.” She flashes that ragtag engagement ring at me. She accidentally flushed the ribbon, hence the bread tie has made a reprisal. It’s down to just a wire at this point. My God, if you put it on Pinterest, I swear it will be all the rage in less than ten eager-to-trend seconds. I’m sure whoever put the Mason jars and chicken wire on display as wedding decor is still laughing up a storm, although I’m partial to those myself.

  “Mia, that’s ridiculous. Why would Melissa put the entire universe in danger over some silly boy?” My own words pierce my heart as Gage flashes through my mind. Right about now, I’d sell out the universe to have my sweet husband by my side.

  “Because she’s an idiot. That’s why.” She glares across the way where I spot Melissa yapping it up with Wesley. Gah!

  “She’s power-hungry.” I can’t help but notice that Wes is hardly listening. He’s watching Coop near the patio as he does his best to speak with Laken. Too bad for him, though. Laken looks far too interested in bouncing Tobie on her hip and making her smile. She is a cute little nugget, so I can’t say I blame her.

  “Don’t tell Melissa you told me. Keep an ear out for anything else you hear.” I pick up her left hand and rub my thumb over the thin wire cutting into her skin. “My God, you’re going to get an infection. Take this ridiculous thing off, Mia. And who’s the idiot who gave it to you, anyway?”

  She opens her mouth to answer just as Logan comes up holding a sleepy Barron.

  Mia glares at Logan a moment. “I will tell you both who gave me this beautiful gesture in due time. I’ll be having a fiancé reveal soon. It’ll be the first of its kind.”

  “You better believe it,” I say. “You know why it’ll be the first of its kind? Because it’s ludicrous!”

  Logan warms my back with his shoulder. “Have it at the bowling alley. I’m having a grand reopening on New Year’s Eve.” He shrugs my way. “Ellis is moving his annual party in honor of the event. Everyone on the island is invited. All lanes, drinks, and food will be free for one day only.”

  “Geez.” I close my eyes. “Well, at least you’re starting off with a bang.”

  Mia squeals so loud Nathan startles to life in her arms. “That’s perfect! I’ll text him right now and let him know.” She jumps up and kisses both Logan and me on the cheek before running off with the baby.

  “Great,” I grumble. “My sister is getting engaged to who knows who, the bowling alley is reopening, life is just barreling on a million miles a minute, and Gage is still gone. I hate death so much, Logan. And I hate that life for normal humans is even crueler for them than it is for us. I hate that my sweet husband’s life was cut short for nefarious purposes. I don’t even want to be at this party. The last thing I want to do is celebrate. I want to have a pity party, alone in my room with my head buried under my pillow.”

  Logan sags as he gives a somber nod. “I know. We’re still grieving, Skyla. And I want to warn you that even if he does come back, he may not be the same person we remember him to be. We might be grieving long into the future.”

  My heart breaks a little more at the thought, and here I didn’t think it was possible.

  Laken’s voice grows animated from across the room where she’s speaking with Cooper.

  Logan offers a quick kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to do my best to put out this fire.” He strides off with Barron, leaving me baby-less once again, and my arms feel oddly barren.

  “Ms. Messenger.” Marshall pops up with a bright green liquid fl
oating in the martini glass he’s holding. It looks noxious and toxic, a combination that seems strangely appealing right about now. Marshall zeros in on me with those fiery eyes of his, the muscles in his jaw popping as he comes in close. I can practically see the steam rising from his ears, but it just makes him all that much more comely. “Do you know where your alliances lie?”

  “With you, with the Sectors.” I don’t bother hesitating. I most certainly know the answers to this celestial pop quiz. “Why are you questioning my alliances?”

  Chloe pops up. “Hey, boss.” She gives a cheesy wink because we both know she doesn’t mean it. “Laken is getting a little too raucous to deal with. Wes wants you to sign his permission slip so he can take her home and fuck her.”

  I glance over to find Laken in a heated discussion with Coop. Well—Coop is mellow for the most part, but I can tell he wants to crawl right out of his skin.

  “Not yet. She needs this. She needs to be immersed in family and friends. Now scat. I’m discussing important things with Marshall.”

  A dark, nefarious gleam appears in her eyes as she cuddles against the sexy Sector’s chest, brushing her fingers over his cheeks like a coital threat. “I’m so lonely, Mr. Dudley. I’m in the midst of one of the most horrible droughts of my life. Not even my husband will bed me. Surely you know of a wily Sector or two who are up for having a dirty little romp with a Neph.”

  “A Neph?” I balk. “More like nymph.” I scoff as I look to Marshall. “Don’t you believe a word of that delusional drought. I know for a fact she got some one-sided action with my husband’s prime bloody apex a little over a month ago. She put that boy’s head in places where no man in his right mind should dare to venture. Besides, you’re my spirit husband. You can’t bed Chloe nor aid her in finding a sexual suitor or a reverse harem. I forbid it.”

  “It’s been done before,” Chloe mewls like a sexed-up kitten as she tips her face to kiss his cheek. “And I do believe your beautiful head was placed where your spirit wife suggested no man should venture. But then, you are no mere man.” She outright purrs, and I swear on all that is holy, I just heard Marshall purr back.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” I slap her arm silly until she takes a step back. “You can’t sleep with Marshall anymore. He’s off-limits.”

  Her eyes harden over mine, tough and cold as steel. “I’m surprised you’re speaking to me, Skyla.”

  “I’m a little surprised that you’re speaking with me after you practically accused me of landing you a number one spot on America’s most wanted.”

  She skirts the floor with a glance. “I see now it was your pure stupidity and not some wayward scheme to get me back for all I’ve done.”

  “Don’t worry. That one’s coming, and you’ll know it’s from me. There won’t be a misunderstanding.”

  “Girls, girls,” Marshall scolds. “Do place all pettiness behind you. We have a serious enemy to contend with, and if you’re both for Celestra as you claim”—he glances to Chloe—“you will need every ounce of unification to face the future. It is sine qua non—you must learn to put your differences behind you.” He scowls at our perplexed yet unified expressions. “Essential.” He looks to me, his features serious as stone. “Delphinius paid me a visit last night.”

  My stomach tenses. I can’t remember the last time I spoke with Delphinius other than the Faction War. It’s almost as if the mention of his name is a foreboding sign of tumultuous times to come.

  “Yes, Skyla.” Marshall frowns, and my stomach does that roller coaster thing. Honestly, Marshall has the sexy dialed up way too high, and as deliciously distracting as it might be—well, heck, I can’t think of a single reason why he should tone it down. “The Fems are ready for this next battle. They see your deceased husband as an opportunity to kick the pedestal from underneath us. The world is in shambles, or have you not noticed? What’s up is down. What’s wrong is right. There are wars and rumors of wars. The millennial kingdom, though it tarry, is a heartbeat away. The Fems realize their time is short. In the throes of the final hours. I suspect we will have a desperate battle on our hands. Only Celestra truly has the power to unseat the Sectors.”

  I give a silent nod. “If Celestra loses its standing, the Sectors will, too.”

  “Good grief,” Chloe moans and rolls her eyes like a teenager. “You’re leaving the fate of your kind in this nitwit’s hands?” She hitches a thumb my way before straightening his collar, hiking up on her tiptoes, and brushing her lips to his cheek. “Put me in charge of Celestra, and you will have a solid seat on the throne of your choosing.”

  Marshall carefully removes the deranged gnat from his person. “I no sooner have the power to execute that command than I do to remove the sun from its position. Skyla has been selected by fate to lead. Her lineage—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Chloe sticks a finger down her throat. “She is the chosen one.” She says chosen one with air quotes. “Her blood is blessed and oh so awesome because her mother infected it with her own mutated genes.” The lights dim and come back on for a moment, and the entire room quiets down before exploding with chortling relief.

  I spot my mother—non bio, whom I often refer to as the real one—and Demetri getting friendly right in front of Tad, their arms slithering over one another like a pair of hormonal snakes, and the sight infuriates me.

  “I am awesome, Chloe.” I look to Marshall and fall into that inferno burning in his eyes a moment. “My seat is secure and so is yours.” My heart pleads with him to understand. “I’ll be back.” I start to take off, and Marshall snatches me by the wrist, burying his mouth in my ear.

  “They will make you an offer you cannot refuse. Skyla”—he hisses my name like a reprimand—“you must not make a single decision without consulting me. We are equals in this. You are the leader of your people, and I am the leader of mine. You will not botch this up for either of us.”

  A breath gets locked in my throat, and I look up at him sharply. “How dare you speak to me that way. How dare you exhibit such a blatant lack of faith in me.” I glance to Chloe who is busy gloating. “And you have crossed every line I have ever drawn for you. There are no more lines to cross. I can’t trust you, Chloe. I own you, and I still have no idea what to do with you. You are a pig. You are the thorn in my side. We pledged allegiance to one another, for Celestra and—”

  “And I never broke my covenant with you!” she thunders, and several heads turn our way.

  “Keep it down,” I hiss. “The hell you didn’t. You promised not to hurt my family, and you desecrated my husband’s body with your own. That hurts him and it hurts me. And for all I know you killed him.”

  “You know I didn’t kill him, Skyla.” She shakes her head furtively. “I swear to you, he was just lying there. I heard a knock, and I opened the door. There was his head. Yes, I have killed those you love before, but I did not kill Gage. I would no sooner harm a hair on his head than I would my own. I killed your father because I was instructed to. I killed Logan because I wanted to. These are my truths. Are you satisfied?”

  It was Demetri that Chloe instructed to kill my father, but I have no doubt someone whispered the benefits into her ear as well—that being the demon who did the deed himself. Chloe made him all the less culpable with the Justice Alliance. After all, Demetri is Chloe’s supervising spirit. It’s a twisted web of hate and lies that led to the removal from this planet of one of the greatest men this world would ever know.

  There isn’t a single word that I want to say, so I thread through the bodies, and instead of finding my mother draped over Demetri, I find the devil cowering in the corner with my least favorite mother-in-law—Emma.

  Mom bops in front of me with an enormous tray of sugar cookies in the shape of reindeer. “Have a treat or twelve!” She jumps, warranting those jingle bells on her chicken hat to ring in tune to the music.

  “No thanks.” I nod over to Demetri. “What do you think those two are discussing?”

  “Most
likely the most fabulous party ever—as in this one. I really have to pull off a good one tonight after that masquerade fiasco last month.”

  That masquerade fiasco happens to be where my husband was slaughtered, but my mother doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge the fact no matter how hard I try to convince her.

  “I’ve really gone all out tonight, Skyla. I made sure to invite everyone who was anyone just to kick-start my party planning career once again. It’s such a lucrative endeavor, I’d hate for us to lose it.”

  “I hope things end well for you this evening.” Honestly, I doubt they will.

  She gives a quick wink and twirls toward the cookie hungry crowd.

  I waste no time in speeding over to the head demon and his liege.

  “Skyla.” Demetri welcomes me with an open arm, but Emma startles, that tight, pulled back bun of hers looks as if it’s about to pop right off with the tension. Her skin is pale, unearthly so, her bright orange lips look caustic, the color of hazard cones, and those eyes of hers are so dark and soulless tonight. For the first time since, well, the last time I saw her—the sight of Emma both frightens and infuriates me. “What can we do for you?”

  “You can both stop pretending to care about my husband’s death.”

  Emma takes in a violent breath so hard and fast I’m half-afraid she’s sucked down that cherry floating in her martini glass and blocked an air passage. But I’m not that lucky.

  Dear God. Am I honestly wishing Gage’s mother dead on Christmas Eve of all nights? Not that it should fly the rest of the year either.

  Marshall appears by my side once again, his hand draped over my shoulder. Whatever you’ve done, undo it quickly, he demands.

  I glare up at him a moment.

  “Skyla”—Emma’s voice is sharp enough to slice through cheese—“Demetri and I were discussing the tragedy of what happened that night. We share a love for our son. You may never disparage that.” Her eyes narrow to slits before she takes a breath and resumes her usual I’m-better-than-the-rest-of-you nature. “Nobody on this planet mourns my son’s death more than I.” She nods my way as if daring me to defy it.