Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5)

by Addison Moore

  “Then we’ll have Skyla and Gage agree not to go there. Faction business is off-limits. I’m sure they’ll agree to it.”

  Ellis nods to me. “What about that kid of yours? Candace is pretty hard up about it.”

  Both Brody and Ellis needle at me with their dark gazes.

  “I thought about it.” And I have thought about Angel every day since we lost her, and it does feel like a loss—the most grievous kind because there is no hope of seeing her in eternity either. “Skyla can triumph on her own. She can do it. I have faith in her.”

  Brody gives my foot a light kick. “Two are stronger than one because they have a good return for their labor. Ecclesiastes 4:9.”

  Crap. When Brody and Ellis begin to make sense, it really gives me pause. Not that I have any disrespect for either of them, but I thought for sure at least one of them would have questioned it. Neither of them stood up for Gage or his marriage.

  Ellis kicks my shoe this time. “You say you love Skyla, and yet you’re letting her roll around in bed with the enemy. Dude, get out of here, man. I’m here for the rest of the day. Get some sleep. Get your head in the right place. Talk to Skyla. I’m pretty sure she’ll have an opinion.”

  A groan ripples through my chest. “She will. I’m pretty sure I already know what it is.”

  Brody shakes his head. “Now that I see it for what it is, do not take no for an answer. If you let this ride—if you let this take a back seat, you’re not just giving away our victory, you’ll have blood on your hands. You’ve already made the enemy’s job damn easy. You’ve got too much sympathy for the devil. And I’m afraid Skyla stepped into a net the day she said I do. I have no doubt she loves him, but as the overseer, it’s her responsibility to put her people first. God, Factions, family. That’s the order her priorities should be in. It’s non-negotiable.”

  Non-negotiable. My love for Skyla has always been that, non-negotiable.

  Ellis and Brody take off, and I hop into the front and take a nice, long drive before heading back to Whitehorse. I skirt the outer rim of the island, watching the waves break the shoreline down by the Pike’s Reef, the dizzying thicket of evergreens standing erect on either side of me like an iron curtain as I head back home. Paragon covers herself in a blanket of fog as day turns into night. I kill the engine and head up to bed.

  The beat of my heart is deafening.

  It chants Skyla’s name, over and over as I drift off to sleep.

  There’s a knock downstairs, and I jog to the door and find Skyla standing there dripping wet from the rain, water beading down her dewy skin, her lips parted as she pants my way.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” She presses past me and takes off her coat, nothing underneath but her cheer uniform.

  Lex struts out of the kitchen in nothing but a towel, and I’m guessing we’re about to head into a fashion-based standoff.

  “Messenger.” Lex comes over and wraps her arms around me as her towel drops to the floor.

  “Shit,” I mutter, but Lex is less than moved. In fact, she’s downright grinning.

  “It is a stunning sight, big boy.” Her finger glides down the bridge of my nose.

  Skyla scoffs, and I can’t help but offer a dumbstruck look her way.

  “Should I get a hose and blast her away from you or just cut to the chase and grab a blowtorch?” Skyla steps in close, her chest still heaving in and out from running up the porch in the rain.

  “Lex”—I peel her off me with kid gloves, my fingers accidentally flicking her left tit—“I think I need to talk to Skyla. Maybe you could put that towel back on, or better yet go—”

  Her slender cool finger seals over my lips. “I’ll get back in the tub. As soon as Mommy Dearest leaves to tend to her brats, you can strip off all these clothes and join me.” She gives a quick tug at my belt loop. Her tongue does a revolution around her lips. “I’ll make sure to keep the water nice and hot. I’ll scrub your back, and you can scrub far more interesting places.” She slinks off, the girls bouncing in turn as she does her best to walk backward until disappearing out of sight.

  “I’m not sure what the deal is with me seeing ex-West cheerleaders in the nude this week, but I’m on a roll.”

  A throaty laugh bubbles from Skyla, and I turn to find her flinging her top to the ceiling. “I’d hate to break your lucky streak.” She snatches me by the wrist and races us back to my bedroom, encapsulating us inside with the slam of the door.

  “Skyla.” A dull laugh bounces in my chest, but damn, am I ever aroused. My eyes hook into hers, and I don’t think I’ll ever look away—with her staring at me, it’s not safe to. “Whatever it is you came for, you more than have my attention.”

  “Good.” She gives an impish grin as she slides off her skirt, nothing underneath, not a stitch of cotton, not a single hair. Good Lord, help me, I stole a quick glance without meaning to. “Now it’s your turn.” Her fingers fumble with my jeans, then just as quick peel off my T-shirt.

  “Skyla, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Now it’s not fair that I’m the only naked person in the room. Is it, Logan?” She strips me clean, and I’ll admit to assisting just enough to get the job done, but I’m not letting it go any further than that, I swear it. Besides, Skyla has seen me in the nude plenty. Okay, so not plenty but enough. And besides that, she has me a bit amused. I’m sure she’ll blush the color of a ruby red slipper once she realizes what she’s done. She’s just riding off her irritation with Lex, that’s all. Or at least that’s all I’m hoping it is.

  “Come here.” She pulls me in by the back of the neck, her eyes dipping down south without hesitation. Her lips curve to the ceiling as if she sees something she likes, and that’s all it takes to spring me. “Now you’re at the party.” Her lips crash against mine, and before I know it, we’re on the bed, her body writhing over mine like she means it, like she needs it—and no slight to Gage, but like she hasn’t had it in a very, very long time.

  It’s delirium that pulls me forward at that point. Her mouth sealing itself over mine, her tongue lashing me like a punishment, it all feels a bit too unreal for me to process properly. Hell, no part of me wants to process this logically at the moment. In one svelte move that would be applauded by any wrestling coach around the country, I have her pinned beneath me, those halogen eyes glowing up into mine. Our chests heave in rhythm as we stare one another down in a moment of both truth and reckoning. Then I’m in her. Without hesitating, I dive in and press my way to the nexus of her being, feeling like I’m about to explode in an instant. For so long I believed Skyla wasn’t good for me to be around, she wasn’t mine, and yet this moment and all it encompasses, oppresses, any logic I might have had prior. This is years in the making, where the pinnacle of lust meets the bottoming out of my morals—and the collision is more than a thing of beauty. It’s sublime. I never thought this would happen again, that either of us would even want this in any capacity, but the needle just slid right off the Richter Scale proving me wrong in an instant. Skyla wants this. I do, too.

  It’s clear as day we have never stopped wanting one another. We are right and meant for one another, destined in the very best way. We have never lost that intimacy we shared from that first look when she stepped into the bowling alley. With some people you just know that you’re going to click, and with Skyla, it was as if the entire world snapped into place when I met her. This is no mistake, no sin. The only sin we’re committing is denying ourselves the right to be together. This may not be the best time to bring it up with my body buried deep inside hers, but I pull away just enough to get a better look at her. Skyla is beautiful at any given moment, but lost in ecstasy she is a queen.

  “Gage,” she moans, her sleepy lids opening as she greets me with a smile, and my stomach drops. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking at how beautiful you are.”

  I hear the words, but they’re not coming from me.

  Shit. I sit up in bed, alone, the da
rkness blanketing my embarrassment from the fog prying through the windows. It was nothing but a dream, no naked Lex, no naked Skyla—that’s for sure, just a runaway train of my imagination that happened to tag right into Gage and Skyla's fuck-fest for the night.

  They’re still going at it, too. I can see them there, playing out like an X-rated movie. Gage pushing in like he were trying his best to drill clear up her throat. Her skull knocking against the headboard as if she were about to crack it. From the looks of the room, they’re not in Kansas anymore, not the Landon farm where the grumpy relatives live, and the evil one, too. I still can’t believe Demetri is holing up there under the pretense of construction. More like deconstruction.

  My mind tracks right back to Skyla, her beautiful mouth as she bites down on her lip, painfully so. In this ironic wicked world Candace has allowed me to peer into, I not only feel the emotions, I’m in on the action. I can feel what Gage feels, the softness of Skyla’s every nuance. I can feel what Skyla feels, the power of the sheer force Gage hammers her with. I’ve tried to remember how careful I might have been with Skyla during our short three-day spread, our honeymoon if you can call it that. I’ve made love to Skyla more vicariously through Gage than I ever have myself—or even through Chloe. Bile creeps up my throat at the thought. But Gage and Skyla demand my full attention as they begin to peak, their movements, breathing, their emotions spinning like Las Vegas slot machines. It’s all hitting a pinnacle, and I get a front row seat. For the life of me I wish there were an off button, a rewind, eject, anything that can shield me from the catastrophic climax I’m forced to endure right along with them.

  “For the love of God, Candace,” I shout as I launch the mug next to me at the wall. Lightning flickers outside my window, and the wind whispers with a deviant chant, For the love of Skyla.

  My head snaps to the ceiling. Skyla pauses a moment. The wind had stolen the spotlight from Gage, and she’s honing all of her attention toward the window in her own room. They’re at the old Walsh residence. I can see the room forming through her eyes, and my stomach sinks a bit. Originally I thought they’d make a beeline to that house once Gage came back, but Demetri moved into Landon central and Skyla wouldn’t budge. But knowing they’re back there, in their rightful bedroom makes me squirm a bit. That’s Skyla stepping clear over into her husband’s arms. She wants him. They are solid. And soon they’ll be right where they belong with their boys, in their own home.

  A light brighter than the sun flickers through the room, and it looks downright nuclear, too unsafe to ever lay eyes on. A light so bright eats the darkness and electrifies my body like an X-ray. A peal of thunder follows it, so ferocious it shakes the room with a mighty roar.

  Gage launches into an assault, and I see her there, feel her beneath me, my spirit in complete paralysis, my soul plunged in darkness. It shouldn’t be this way. Deep down, I know it. It should never have gotten this far. All those years ago when the Counts threatened to kill us, Gage was just a ruse, a safety measure to ensure Skyla and I stay safe and together.

  The Counts were going to kill us? I inch back as if struck by the thought. They never had the power to touch Skyla. Did they? Of course, I didn’t know it at the time. In fact, my death was imminent, but it wasn’t a Count who took me off this planet. It was a Celestra. A weary breath expires from me. How many more errors do we make in life because we live in fear? Brody comes back to me with that snarl on his face. You’ve already made the enemy’s job damn easy. He’s right. I turned Skyla over to Demetri’s son because it felt safe. The enemy is brilliant, I’ll give them that. Make me love Gage like a brother, more than that. Make me love the enemy. Make me give him my wife, my life, as I sit back like a spectator. And now Gage has prime access to Celestra’s secrets, he has prime access to putting a halt on any future Celestra offspring Skyla would have had. Gage is cementing the victory for the Barricade, and it doesn’t even matter if he agrees with their wickedness. It was all so easy for them.

  Angel flashes through my mind brighter than lightning could ever hope to be. My child. My beautiful baby girl. A tear sears itself down my cheek. She will never be. I not only turned over my wife, I erased my own child from existence. Here the enemy is operating in the name of love, and I’m operating in fear—fear of breaking up a family that was never destined to be. Nathan and Barron are simply a happy bonus. They won the lottery of life, and I’m damn glad about it. But that doesn’t mean I need to keep my head in the sand, watch as my people deteriorate under the enemy’s plan—and that has been the end game all along. Celestra disintegrates, the Counts and the Fems take over, all holy hell breaks loose on the planet. And for what? Because I wanted to be nice to Gage?

  A knot builds in my stomach as I charge for the rain-slicked window. Paragon looks deranged, twisted as if my eyes were open to it for the very first time. The ugly world and all its ugly truths revealed as the scales fall from my eyes. My heart drums wild inside my chest as my breathing grows erratic.

  A horrible sinking feeling grips me as if I had lost a child—left her in the grips of a monster preparing to do as he wishes. Fear and anger collide to form the perfect brew of rage inside me. I lost something, and I was foolish enough to believe I voluntarily gave it away. Fury pours from me as I bolt from the room, staggering my way down the stairs, drunk off grief, off what I’ve allowed to happen. I must have been a laughing stock to Demetri and the rest of his wicked cohorts. I fell for the first plan they concocted. They didn’t even have to push. I blew over with the breeze. Gage has never kept Skyla safe no matter what his intentions were or might be in the future. Gage has endangered Skyla and her people from the beginning. He’s a cancer in our midst that I fed until it ate my future, my people, and my children for breakfast. I put a lid on all the good that was meant for Skyla and me and set her in a pot of boiling oil with the enemy.

  I burst through the living room, and Lex and Michelle let out a scream as I startle the bowls right out of their hands, sending popcorn raining everywhere.

  “Where are you going?” Lex shouts as I bolt out the door.

  “To get my wife,” I thunder back as I jump into the truck and speed through the pouring rain, driving blind into the downpour as if my life depended on it, that feast of flesh still going strong in my mind, but that will never stop me again. My heart for Gage hasn’t changed. He’ll always be a brother to me, my best friend, the one I turn to right after Skyla—but I refuse to ignore the blatant truth staring me in the face. He’s a hazard, and he must be stopped. Gage Oliver can have any other girl on this planet, but he can’t have mine. That’s not how this works, not anymore.

  I hit the Estates, and the guard waves me in. My foot hits the floor, and I gun it all the way over, causing the truck to fishtail as I land in their driveway with my tires screaming for mercy. I blow through the entry, take the stairs two by two before bursting through the door to their bedroom.

  “Shit. What the hell’s going on?” Gage jumps into his jeans and lands next to me panting, his dark brows hooding low. But it’s Skyla my eyes are pinned to as she pulls on a sweatshirt that rides down her thighs, her breathing out of rhythm, the look of terror in her glowing eyes. Skyla steps in close, her eyes as wide as the sea, and my heart detonates into a billion particles of love just for her. I can breathe again, my heart beats erratically as if it had stalled all those years ago when I shoved her into his arms to begin with. “Dude”—Gage hisses—“what’s happening?”

  “I’m taking back my wife.” I cup her cheeks and pull her in, my mouth crashing to hers, diving headfirst into pure unadulterated bliss, heaven on earth just the way it should be, the way it should have been all along. For one beautiful moment all is right with the world as we’re transported back to that magical place before Gage was ever a blip on the radar. It’s just Skyla and me, fusing our spirits together the way it was meant to be all along.

  A powerful shove lands me halfway to the wall as Gage sends me sailing like a kite. His fist lands o
ver my left eye, and a spray of stars materializes from nowhere.

  Skyla screams as she claws at Gage to back off and I stagger to the center of the room as if I had the balls to prove a point, and I do.

  “Logan!” Skyla roars as her anger turns on me. “What has gotten into you? Is this kissing thing some kind of a resurrection malfunction or something?”

  “I wasn’t resurrected.” I peel the palm of my hand from my eye as I squint out at the two of them. Skyla is clearly worried for my welfare, and Gage is clearly pissed. “No, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “The hell there isn’t,” Gage grumbles through the dimly lit room. It’s only then I note the fact there’s an entire row of candles on the dresser. Perfectly romantic. Too bad for him, that good time ends tonight.

  “I’m sorry. I had an epiphany today. You were meant for me. Ellis was there, and we decided—”

  Skyla huffs, “Oh, you and Ellis decided. This just gets better.”

  “Brody was there—”

  “Dragging a Bishop in this is only digging the ditch that much deeper. And a Bishop, Logan, really? He’s probably had his sister’s best interests all along.”

  Gage steps in. “Skyla, why don’t you go home? I’ll meet up with you in a bit. I think I need to make sure my uncle has his head screwed on straight.”

  His uncle. I’ve referenced him as my nephew more than a handful of times, but Gage has never called me his uncle, not out loud anyway, not that I can recall. Another clear sign he’s good and pissed. Something tells me that as soon as Skyla walks down those stairs he’ll have me in a headlock while he kicks in my balls. I’m guessing he’s keyed in at least ten deadly moves since his earthly comeback. Who knows what his dear old demented dad is teaching him on the side. Nothing good, that’s for sure.

  Skyla charges at me, slaps her hands over my chest as she pushes me back a good foot. “Are you drunk? Is that what this is? Did Lexy slip you a roofie and you ran? I couldn’t blame you, and it sure would explain a hell of a lot.”