Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5)

by Addison Moore

The gangly man with an angular jaw inspects me a moment as if looking for traces of sanity on my face. “Good enough. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He takes off, and it’s only then I note the broom and dustpan in his hand.

  “My skin.” I swallow hard as I rub my arms. “Did you see it?” I search Logan’s features for a clue of panic, but he’s completely put together. All of his worry is pinned solely on me. “She’s not human, Logan. I don’t know what she is. A Fem maybe?”

  “Maybe.” He grimaces. “I saw her face. I saw the fire, but for some reason, it only affected you.”

  The sound of hoofs hitting concrete steals my attention. A horrible garbled sound, followed by thrashing and gagging. Logan and I spin to find the shadow of an enormous horse near the periphery of the park right next to the castle entrance. It’s dark, save for the glow of a streetlamp illuminating the main cobbled path.

  I don’t hesitate darting in that direction, and Logan takes up my hand providing enough resistance to slow me down.

  “Skyla, whoever she is, she’s messing with you.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.” I snatch my hand back and run over to the horse writhing and jumping, its coat the color of a snowy night. “You think it’s real?”

  The shadow of a small child steps forward holding a worn rope in her hands. Her hair is golden, her skin glowing like the sun, those eyes of fire burning with supernatural discontent.

  “Can you help me?” She takes a few steps toward Logan and me as the beast swings wild and dangerous behind her. “My horse is choking.”

  If ever there were a moment I needed to summon every ounce of who I am, this would be it.

  I pounce on the child like throwing a blanket over an accidental fire, and she struggles in my arms, squirming like a greased pig. My arms unleash their inhuman power to subdue her, but it’s my mind that envelops the true hold over the little witch. A binding spirit. I’ve become one. If only for a moment, her otherworldly abilities are thwarted for a microcosm of time.

  My powers quickly weaken, a bad habit they’ve gotten into, no thanks to my mother’s sexual punishment. The girl nearly squirms right out of my arms, so I knock my forehead into hers, hard, a skull cracker of a maneuver, and her head bounces off the concrete from behind, her eyes roll satisfyingly back into her skull. The horse whinnies and screams, jostling itself in the air as if it understood its salvation rested in the sky.

  “WHO ARE YOU?” I thunder over her. Her features smooth out. For the first time I see something familiar in her face, in those crystalline eyes, and I hold my breath.

  She blinks up at me, her body falling lax, giving up the struggle. “Aurora,” she spits it in my face. Then as if a knot were released, she sheds an easy smile. “I’m your sister, Skyla. And you will call me Rory.”

  She butts her forehead into mine a hundred times harder than the knock I had gifted, and the world darkens comfortable to soot.

  I wake up in the butterfly room in Gage Oliver’s arms, the biggest headache in the world thumping through me like a current. A toaster in the bathtub would have felt better.

  My sister. Rory.

  She’s either wickedly delusional or she’s right.

  Either way…

  She’s wicked.

  Gage

  Two days after Liam’s wedding, my mother demands that the Landon Oliver clan reconvenes to clear her good and sober name—her words, not mine.

  Paragon is weeping, heavy showers gave way to an icy fog. The constant precipitation has caused the algae that coats the roadsides, the boulders, the sides of every freestanding building to proliferate like mold. But on the bright side, we are truly an emerald isle. Paragon seems to have forgotten what the middle of summer should feel like.

  “God, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why Wes is here.” Skyla slams a tray of cookies her sisters were kind enough to bake onto the kitchen counter.

  I wrap my arms around her from behind and tuck a kiss just behind her ear trying to calm her frazzled nerves. She hasn’t slept but a few hours since Saturday night. The thought of having a sister threw her into a tailspin. I tried to assure her it could have been a lying spirit, or a metaphorical sisterhood, like a sister in Christ, a Celestra sister. But her mind was on overload. She spent the night texting Dudley—trying fruitlessly to summon her mother. That bitch is always impossible to nail down. A twinge of regret hits me for the harsh manner in which I mentally addressed my mother-in-law, so I slip an apologetic kiss to Skyla’s temple. I can’t help it. I’m in a foul mood. The more I think about the consequences of not pushing the Sectors out of the way, and Skyla by proxy, the more it pisses the living shit out of me. And on the flip side, there will be hellish consequences, too—Dudley, the aforementioned mother-in-law to name a few.

  “Wes has to be here,” I whisper. “Laken wouldn’t come without him.”

  “And that’s precisely why Coop is sitting in there, looking like death. In fact, I think he’d rather be dead than endure this misery. Laken is tormenting him, and she has no idea how deep the wound is.” She spins into me and lands a warm kiss to my lips. “I would be completely tormented without you. Don’t ever think of leaving me, Gage Oliver.”

  “There’s not a force in the universe that can make that happen.” My cheek glides up one side. Not even the witch that bore you. A brow lifts as I look to the window for a hint of a lightning bolt. I’ll have to ask Demetri if Candace can hear my thoughts. It’s a feat in and of itself that Skyla is locked off, and I think at this point we both want it that way.

  “Good.” She plucks my arms off. “I’ve got to get the boys their bottles. And no matter what happens tonight, I’m giving you your surprise!” She takes off, and I sneak a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie off the tray. It’s a rarity these days to get anything in the Landon house that isn’t gluten free and/or vegan. But Mia and Melissa are purists when it comes to cholesterol-inducing ingredients, and right about now, I truly appreciate it. I moan my way through that first bite. It tastes damn good.

  A pair of slender arms wrap around my waist and offer up a squeeze, but the scent of the perfume that trailed in with them is far too caustic to belong to Skyla. I twist to find Chloe slithering over me like a serpent.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I step out of her grasp and pop the rest of the cookie into my mouth. Funny how Chloe makes it taste far less appetizing than it was a second ago.

  “Your ex-wife invited me.” She helps herself to a cookie and moans her way through it. “I think she has a girl crush on me. That girl cannot get enough.” Chloe swivels her hips in mine. “How about you, big boy? You think you could get enough of this action?”

  “Depends on what I’m doing to you.”

  “Ooh.” She slithers in close and runs her finger down my chest, lithe and smooth. “Sounds sexual.”

  I catch her hand before she falls to the forbidden zone. “It’s murderous, Chloe. I don’t want you. I never will.”

  “That’s not what Emily says.” Her eyes flash like fire, and my stomach drops. “You’re not married anymore. The playing field is leveled. Skyla won’t choose you again, Gage. She’ll use that twit child as an excuse to copulate with Logan, and you will be discarded just like I was all those years ago. I will be your comforter. I will be the one you lean on.”

  “I’m done playing games with you.” I toss her hand back hard enough to break it. I’d break every bone in her Ezrina-issued body if I thought it would help stomp her out of my life once and for all. I’m in a ball-busting mood, and Chloe has placed herself at ground zero. “Nothing or no one takes me from Skyla.” I step in close, and I can feel the evil exuding from her like steam. “Chloe, you’re a tool of destruction. You’re not your own. Those emotions, those feelings you cling to like it was your religion—they’re infused from Skyla’s own mother. Your affection for me is nothing more than some hardwired illusion.” My voice grows threadbare as if I were pitying her, and maybe I am.

  Chloe shakes her he
ad, her eyes enlarging, the undercurrent of rage pulsating through her. “Fuck you, Gage Oliver. Everything I feel for you is genuine. I have never loved like this, not before you, not after.”

  “Don’t you get it?” A roar comes from me, and I kick the shit out of a chair at the breakfast table. “Chloe, you don’t even have it in you to love your own kid.” My entire body sags as I plead with her to believe me. “You are a nothing more than a puppet. We all are.” I pass my mother on the way to the living room.

  “Gage!” Mom calls, and I backtrack. Her hair is freshly dyed a deeper shade of crimson than I’m used to, and it ages her. I can make out the lines around her lips as if she’s spent the last fifty years sucking on a cigarette. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into me today, but I can’t seem to find the good in anyone. With Chloe that would have been impossible. “I spoke with Demetri. He says you’re the key to Kresley’s safe return. My God, he says she’s expecting! And that it’s your brother’s.” Her forehead bursts into a series of worry lines. My mother has never shed so much as a crooked brow for any of the shit my wife has gone through, and yet for Kresley she looks ready to break every dish in the house. Regardless, Kres is going through hell. I shouldn’t be so hard on my mother.

  “It’s true—about it being Wesley’s. But as far as me being the key to getting her home—that’s to be seen.”

  She steps in, her lips knotted up with rage. “I want that girl back, Gage Oliver,” she grits it through her teeth with venom, and my heart stops for a moment. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen my mother so virally pissed. Her eyes narrow in on mine, glowering. “Do not, and I repeat, do not delay in bringing her home. I will not have this bullshit another moment longer.” She takes off for the kitchen, and I’m stunned at the sheer passion I just witnessed. I get it. She loves Kres. I care about her too as a person.

  The thought occurs to me—I’ve just had three women in the span of fifteen minutes citing my first and last name. Gage Oliver. Funny. I’m starting to feel like anyone but him.

  The living room is bustling with the din of music and ceaseless chatter as Tad, Demetri, and my father burst into laughter at once. Now there’s an odd social circle. Drake, Ethan, Bree, and Em are discussing something near the stairs while Beau tugs at Misty’s hair until she starts to scream. Little Ember is hiding behind Emily’s legs—and for good reason. Beau can be a brute. Logan is outside on the patio hanging out with Ellis, G, and Coop. Wesley’s holding Tobie, who looks as if she wants to be anywhere but here. It does take Tobie a bit to warm up. Laken is by their side with her enormous belly. Her feet have swollen so much her skin is rising like bread dough out of her shoes. I feel bad she’s standing. Lizbeth is holding Barron while Mia and Melissa ignore the fact Nathan is swatting them both and laughing. Both Mia and Melissa look as if they too want to be anywhere but here. Can’t say I blame them. These Landon Oliver shindigs never end well. I’m not quite looking forward to this myself. The doorbell rings, and I frown as I head on over. Not sure who we’re missing. Not sure who would voluntarily want to join in on the fun. Ezrina and Nev declined the invite when Skyla extended it. Skyla does like to delude the pool. I’ll admit, our mothers in the same room is rarely a good combination.

  The knocking grows with intensity, and I whisk the door open in an effort to stifle it.

  Dudley’s ugly mug stares back at me. His cheek twitches with a misfire of a smile as he reaches over, knots up my shirt, and drags me the hell outside, nailing my ass to the wall as my head thumps hard against the side of the house.

  “That hurt,” I grunt, marveling mostly that he was able to elicit that much pain in me.

  “Good.” He drops me like a rag. “Let this be a lesson to you.” He leans in uncomfortably close, his teeth clenched as if he were far beyond pissed. “You have nothing but terrible choices to make. Leave Skyla and allow her to prosper. Keep her and kill her. You are a coward because you can’t decide which to do.” He gives his jacket a tug at the lapels before heading on in.

  Coward. The word rings out in my mind like a bell.

  Shit. How the hell did he come up with that one? I made my choice. I keep Skyla. He goes to hell. Sure, he doesn’t like it, but I never expected him to. A horrible feeling comes over me, a lead weight the size of an entire legion of Sectors sitting on top of my chest. Yes, I feel like shit over it, but what can I do? He’s right. I have terrible choices to make.

  A thought comes to me. If I keep Skyla, am I really keeping her from prospering? That can’t be true. I’ll give Skyla the world. She can have everything, every victory, but Celestra cannot hold the lead—not if I want to spend eternity with the girl I love, with our children. And because I love her, I will never tell Skyla why I’m fighting so hard. I know her. She will lay it down, let her people down, all on account of me. Nope. She will lose fair and square. She has to. I have no choice but to make sure of it.

  “Here you are.” Logan bounces down the steps with his hands stuffed in his front pockets, that look of apprehension still firmly on his face. We haven’t exactly been in a good place these past few months. He’s coming around, though. Before we know it, he’ll accept me with Skyla again. It’s a learning curve. I get it. Sorry, Logan. You don’t win. You don’t get the girl. She’s mine. I flash a guilty smile his way. “Dinner’s on the table.”

  “Great.” I close my eyes a moment.

  “What’s getting to you, man?”

  “I don’t want to be me, and I can’t escape myself.” I can’t believe the words as they leave my lips. My lids fly open, eyes to the sky as I try to absorb what I said. “I just don’t get why we couldn’t be normal, you know? Human. No shitstorm of problems that comes with cosmic consequences. Sometimes it’s all a little too much to bear.” I slap his shoulder as I head on in. There isn’t anything left to say.

  Dinner starts off with a bang as my mother insists we all take our seats according to the placeholders she’s set out.

  “So formal.” Lizbeth can’t help but quip, and Skyla shoots her a look. “I just mean, we don’t have assigned seating at our house. People just sit wherever they want.”

  Melissa grunts, “That’s because we’re missing a seat and it quickly turns into a game of homicidal musical chairs. You just hope you don’t end up on the ottoman while that horse everyone keeps treating like a dog tries to sniff your crotch.”

  Mia growls as if she’s about to morph into a bear. “Maybe if you took a bath once in a while, he wouldn’t have anything to sniff!”

  Shit.

  Bree smirks as she raises a glass. “Well, there’s gonna be one less seat at the table for you girls.”

  Mia hacks out a laugh while looking to her sister. “That’s right. Once Gabe and I make it official, the only place left for you to sit will be the toilet seat. And don’t worry, I’m sure there will be plenty for you to sniff while you’re there.”

  “Can I flush your engagement ring down while I’m on it?” Melissa doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have one.”

  “Okay. That’s quite enough potty talk.” Mom raises a glass of her own. “If you girls don’t mind me interrupting your squabbling, Barron and I would like to welcome you all to our home. I feel I owe everyone here an apology for my behavior the other night. It seems champagne doesn’t complement me after all.”

  “You sure didn’t complement me either,” Lizbeth mutters under her breath, and Skyla clicks her tongue at her.

  It’s nice to see we’re off to a rockin’ start.

  The rest of us lift our glasses in hopes Mom will get on with the toast and put us out of our misery, but Bree stomps her hand over the table as if it were a snare drum and shifts the focus her way.

  “As I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted…” Bree takes a moment to glare at Melissa. “The reason there will be one less seat at the table is because there’s going to be an addition to the family.”

  Skyla gasps.

  I’m pretty sure B
ree meant we’ll need an additional seat at the table, but it seems we’ve all caught on.

  “Brielle.” Skyla clasps her hands and brings them to her lips. “You and Drake are having a baby?”

  “What?” Bree bucks as if Skyla just put a hex on her. “Hell no. Em and Drake are having a kid. Ethan’s gonna raise it.”

  “Damn right.” Ethan thumps his glass against the table as a groan circles the room.

  “Oh, Em.” Skyla closes her eyes a moment. “And Ethan, really? That’s very big of you.” The veins at the sides of her neck begin to bulge. A surefire sign that she is livid, and I can’t blame her. There’s no regard for sanity in her family whatsoever.

  “Damn right again.” Ethan fills his wineglass to the brim.

  “Ethan’s shooting blanks,” Drake is quick to inform the masses.

  “Makes total sense.” Chloe lifts her knife. “Ethan and I never used protection when we were together.”

  “Oh my goodness! This is wonderful news!” Lizbeth jumps up and lunges over Emily while Tad silently gags in his seat. Tad hates people. Especially those he’s remotely related to—especially when they procreate.

  “Oh my goodness, is right,” Skyla protests. “Bree, how can you be thrilled about this? And, Emily? Really?”

  Em shoots her a look that shuts down the show.

  Wes tips his head to me with a look that says what the heck. “Well, I say congratulations.”

  “Yes.” Laken nods to Emily. “I’ll be glad to gift you all the maternity clothes you can handle. I’ve amassed quite the wardrobe.”

  Demetri sheds his signature mocking grin. “Here’s to another Landon arriving in the world.” He lifts his glass higher. “What’s not to love?”

  A strangling sound emits from Tad’s throat as he gyrates in his seat. His face has gone from pink to eggplant in the span of three seconds. “I’ll tell you what’s not to love! The fact those kids don’t have two dimes to rub together!” He points hard at Drake. “That’s right, son. I’m calling a spade a spade. You may not want the world to know it, but you’re broke as a joke. That bank account of yours has been running on empty for months! Don’t think I haven’t seen the two of you diving between the cushions scrounging for shrapnel, chasing the chips, looking for loot. That special lawnmower you’ve been sweeping the yard with?” He says special lawnmower with air quotes. “Demeet here filled me in on the fact it’s a metal detector.” He turns to his wife. “Lizbeth, it turns out, yet another branch of the Landon tree has been digging for dinero, plowing for pennies, on a quest for quid.”