Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5)

by Addison Moore

  “You do realize Dudley took my arm off for a far lesser offense. There’s no way I’m stealing this.”

  Chloe shakes her head, her haunting beauty only magnetized by the powdery glow emanating around us. “No, Skyla. He wants you to have it. He told me so himself.”

  “And why should I believe you?”

  “You shouldn’t,” a deep voice strums from behind, and in the time it would have taken me to turn around, Marshall appears next to Chloe, his being illuminated from the inside out, soft like a paper lantern. Marshall is resplendent on an average day in natural lighting, but in this realm, pouring the light of God from his very being, he is a vision that every single human should have the privilege to view at least once before they die. Marshall Dudley is a wonder. “It is yours, Skyla. I am gifting this to you.”

  “A spirit sword, really, Marshall? Let me guess. An early wedding gift?” I couldn’t help it. I have a feeling I know what direction this warmongering weapon is heading in.

  “Yes, my love.” His eyes close a moment. He’s so sincere, my chest pinches with agony.

  “You think I’ll need this.” My hand runs the length of it.

  “Skyla”—Chloe takes a step in, her nudity on full display as Marshall’s radiating beams put a spotlight over her—“you will need it. It’s the only thing that might actually help you.”

  “You don’t care about helping me, Chloe. You only care about helping yourself.” A ripe anger boils in me as I look to the Sector by her side. “This is the one, isn’t it?” I cut the sword right out of the dime store sheath and hold it between us. “This is the sword that has the power to immobilize my husband. You want me to disable him. You have no desire to support our union.” I toss it to the ground at Marshall’s feet with disgust. “I’m not playing this game. Gage and I are happening. The Factions will have peace. I won’t be manipulated by either of you. There is nothing you can do or say to wedge a divide between Gage and me. We are solid. And we will gladly prove you both wrong.”

  I take off for the exit, the wall still quivering between this existence and the next.

  “Skyla,” Chloe calls, and I turn just as I’m about to step out. “I’ll get the sword for you—just say the word and I’ll hand deliver it myself. Marshall can’t do it, only I can help you.”

  I jump back into Marshall’s closet and stagger over to the granite covered island, holding onto the icy surface for a moment as I catch my breath. My God, what the hell was that about?

  Outside, the children’s portion of the afternoon is in full swing. Bounce houses are filled to capacity with an entire array of miniature superheroes, villains, princesses, and the like. Melissa is kindly helping with the pony rides. Mia is surprisingly persona non grata. I’m betting she’s staying the hell away from me because she knows I’ll take her to Tenebrous if I have to. I’d do anything to keep her from making the biggest mistake of her life tonight. Regardless, Logan, Ethan, and Giselle are in charge of the pumpkin carving. Emily is face painting, a far better use of her artistic skills if you ask me. I spot Wes and the birthday princess herself, Tobie, taking pictures with Nathan and Barron. My mother is with them. It looks like the boys have found their mini ten gallon hats, and all I want to do is head over and squish those adorable dimples until we all explode. Just as I take a step in that direction, an arm glides around my waist and the world around me disintegrates before piecing itself together again on an altogether familiar terrain—the black sands of Rockaway Beach.

  I spin around to find—“Holy hotness, Batman.” Those piercing cobalt eyes, the fact a little teleportation just ensued gives away the fact the freakishly handsome man behind the bat-like mask creating an X over the upper half of his face is none other than my gorgeous husband.

  “You look beautiful.” He never takes his eyes off mine. “I look ridiculous.”

  “Hardly.” I pull back a moment to take in this thick, rubber, muscle-inspired suit he’s somehow dipped himself in. “How in the heck did you get this thing on? More importantly, how can I get it off?” I run my hand down his chest, then lower still.

  His cheek glides up one side as he offers a lopsided smile. “Surely you have a golden lasso that can render me defenseless. I bet you can chew this off with your teeth if need be, Wonder Woman.”

  My body adheres to his as I warm to the suit. “Don’t tempt me. And I’m not Wonder Woman. I’m Curiosity Girl, or something to that effect.” I hike up in my glossy red boots and brush my lips over his.

  “Mmm,” Gage moans as if he just took a bite of something decadent and, believe me, I plan on making all of his moaning dreams come true. “In all fairness, I’m not Batman. No hood, no cape. I’m pretty much disqualified.”

  “The mask is hot, though,” I say, inspecting it, still unsure of how it manages to remain secured to his face. “How about we make a quick pit stop to the butterfly room? You leave the mask on, and I’ll leave my gold cuffs.” A heated laugh fills my chest.

  Gage leans in and takes a gentle bite out of my neck. “What I need to do to you won’t be quick.” He takes a deep breath and pulls back. His eyes are congealed with a thick layer of moisture just the way Chloe’s were a few minutes ago.

  “My God, I love you, Skyla. Don’t ever doubt my love for you. Promise?”

  A slight grin pumps on my lips. Gage made love to me last night as if it were his last night on Earth. As soon as we put the boys to bed, Gage whisked us up to the butterfly room and had his naughty way with me, time and time again. It was an all-consuming passion, one that went on until the wee hours of the morning, one that continued with a reprisal just before breakfast, and I can’t wait to repeat the effort in just a few hours. Gage and I finally have our happily ever after, and nothing or no one can come between us. We are the answer the Factions have been waiting for. They just don’t seem to get it quite yet.

  “They got to you, too, huh?” A dull huff pumps through me “Chloe and Marshall teaming up against us is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. He must be desperate.” Not to mention the fact my mother has spent the last several months trying her best to strike deals with my friends and enemies alike trying to get them to do her bidding—putting forth her best effort to pair me with Logan. It’s all so ridiculous I shake my head, pulling the beefy wall of muscles into a hard embrace. “Of course, I know you love me. I will never not know that,” I say, bearing hard into his lucent eyes. “Your love for me is palpable. And you have my heart forever. There is nothing anyone can say or do to usurp that. My God, why don’t we just move up the wedding? I can’t wait to ignite that throne room of yours on fire. Why waste time in proving them all wrong?” I give his fingers a quick tug in a childlike attempt to sway him into it.

  “Skyla.” His lips pull into a line as he presses a chaste kiss over my lips. “Nobody has any bearing on how we feel about one another. You and I both understand that more than anyone.” He winces as if in agony. His eyes bear hard into mine, that pained look sweeping across his face as if he were about to deliver the very worst news—as if he were living it. “Tonight is not the right night for our wedding.”

  A playful groan emits from me. “You’re right. It’s Halloween. And it’s Tobie’s birthday. We need to do it on a day that’s extremely special for the two of us. And that day just so happens to be less than thirty sleeps away. I promise, I will try my hardest to be patient.”

  “Good.” Gage secures his grip on me, his eyes holding my gaze with a heaviness in them I’m not familiar with. Waves slap over the shore in steady rhythm as the two of us hold on tight, lost in one another’s eyes, completely transfixed. All of time stands still. The wind whips us with a fierce tenacity as if doing its best to compete for our attention, but neither of us flinches. There is a stillness in this moment, a beauty, a sacredness that neither of us could ever contest.

  Here we are, simply Gage and Skyla as if it were the first time, the last time, every precious moment in between. If ever there were a pure moment that
we have shared, this is it. A smile graces his lips as he brings them to mine, and we share a kiss that starts sweet as honey before it morphs to something far more ferocious, something that spells out our love far more effectively than any other form of communication could hope for.

  This kiss says I love you and I miss you, this is our forever, and this is the end. This kiss is laced with a saccharine agony that cannot be denied. It exemplifies in every way what our love has ever been, a sorrowful delight, perfection dipped in anguish. A hierarchy of embattled emotions that no one should ever feel all at once. This kiss is spellbinding, robed in royalty, a clash of titans that refuses to delineate a line the other may not cross. We are our own dichotomy that refuses to acknowledge itself. We are each a noose cleverly fashioned over one another’s neck, our feet wobbling over the Factions like an unstable chair all too willing to give way beneath us.

  And just like that, the party materializes around me, and I’m standing all by my lonesome next to an Oliver of a different hair color, Logan.

  “Whoa,” he says it peeved at first before rising to his feet, that grin on his face expanding as he takes me in. “I mean, wow. Hey, good lookin’—you pop in like that often?” He offers a cheesy wink, and I crane my neck past his shoulder to find Gage giving me a friendly wave as he speaks with Wes.

  “Apparently, I do.” I take a step back to examine the Oliver before me. He’s still wearing his blue flannel and Levi’s. “You didn’t change.”

  Lexi hops up on his shoulders before bouncing between us in a cat suit with a whip in hand. “He’s my sex slave.”

  “Great.” I glower at the pesky pussy. “Halloween is a time to exercise one’s delusions. It makes total sense.”

  Lex claws the air between us. “Looks like Bishop didn’t send you the memo.” She dips a pointed fingernail to her pouty lip. She has whiskers drawn over her rosy cheeks, and a pink triangle dots the tip of her nose. Her lips are adorably outlined a caustic shade of whore. She nods toward the corral, and I spot Em, Bree, Nat, and the biggest pussy of them all, Chloe, all wearing matching latex costumes, cute pointed ears rising from the top of their heads like horns.

  “I guess she didn’t. But let’s call a spade a spade. I’m not a part of the brat pack.”

  “Lexy”—Logan gives her leash a quick tug—“you mind hunting down those coolers Dudley has out by the porch and fishing me out a couple of sodas?”

  She whispers something into his ear before taking off, and Logan gives a dark chuckle.

  “Sounds like she made quite the promise,” I muse, completely annoyed that I bore witness to the event.

  “It was. But I have no intention of taking her up on it.” He nods. “You okay? You look shaken.”

  “Lexy doesn’t shake me.” True story. Losing Logan, that’s another matter.

  He pulls me over a few feet and lifts his flannel just above his waist, exposing the handle of a gun, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “Shit,” I scold as I lean in. “What the hell are you doing with that thing? There are kids here, for God’s sake.”

  “They’ll be leaving soon. Besides, you never bring a knife to a gunfight,” he teases, but the moment quickly grows serious. He tips his head thoughtfully, inspecting me for something—what, I’m not sure. “Coop is armed and so are Ellis and Brody.”

  “Why?” It comes out stern, more like a reprimand than a question.

  “Because Dudley suggested we needed it. That’s all he could say, and I didn’t question him on it. He let Brody know this morning. End of story. Now you know what I know.” There’s a darkness in his eyes as if he were accusing me of something. I don’t need a road map to realize what it is.

  “In just a few weeks there will be peace.” I land my palm over his stubbled cheek, the anguish in my voice exuding like a wail. I pull my hand back, my feelings for Logan running through my arm like a current. “And when it is done, we’re having a bonfire and feeding those weapons to the flames. We won’t need them. We won’t need Marshall’s misinformed intentions. And we won’t need Emily’s perverse prognostications.” I want to tell him that I won’t need him. I’ll have Gage. That he’ll need someone like Lexy because I want him to be happy, but my vocal cords refuse to listen.

  “Skyla!” a cheery female calls from behind as Laken comes up with a tiny precious princess in her arms.

  “Baby Charlie!” I pull both Laken and that sweet angel into a hearty embrace. Logan heads back to his post at the carving table, but the aftertaste of the conversation refuses to leave my mouth.

  “You look stunning.” Her denim eyes expand as she takes in all the glitz and glamor my knockoff costume can manage.

  “You look stunning,” I say, running my hand over the emerald velvet cloak she’s donned. Laken is a goddess on a regular day, but in this early evening light she looks like a supermodel with those chiseled features, perfect pouty lips, and hair that falls in rivers of gold.

  “Thank you, but I’m afraid I decided to forgo the sexy kitten costume Chloe sent down for me. I’ve opted for the warm mommy look instead. We won’t be staying long—Charlie and me. I told Wes to stay as long as he wanted.”

  My mood sours in an instant. “Laken.” I press into her with my insistent gaze. “Anything shift on the heart front yet?”

  “No.” She gives a halfhearted giggle. “Isn’t that strange? I know that I loved Cooper.”

  Loved. She may not have meant to say it in past tense, but she did.

  “Anyway, things are getting complicated, and I don’t want to think about any of it. I just want to focus on Charlie. She’s already growing up so fast.” Her gaze falls to the sweet bundle swatting a toy wand around. “Just to be clear. I’m not officially with either Wes or Coop while I think things through. It’s just Charlie and me as far as I’m concerned.”

  “That’s great!” My adrenaline skyrockets. It sounds as if Wes has been cut off. Victory at last! “I’ll help you get set up at the old Walsh house—my house, the one Gage and I—”

  “The one you refuse to live in because you think it’s cursed?” Her brows hike a notch.

  I knew it was a mistake to confide in her a few weeks back. Mindless chitchat led to me copping to just about every truth in my life. I couldn’t help it, though. Laken has been my best friend for years. It feels natural to regurgitate all the dirty details in my life.

  “Well, it’s not cursed for you.” I wrinkle my nose. “Think about it. You and Charlie will be at perfect peace.”

  “No way. Eli and Tobie need me, too.” She glances over her shoulder before scooting in. “Skyla, I still love Wesley. He has my heart.”

  “So you’re leaning toward destruction? And by destruction, I mean Wes. My God, how is that possible? Do you remember anything from Ephemeral?”

  “Everything.” Her eyes widen a notch, and I’d swear I could see Wes buried in each one.

  “Wes is a monster, Laken.” I try to deliver the news as sweet as possible, a hellish lullaby.

  “I know how you feel.” She holds the baby closer to her chest as if protecting her from the conversation. “But, Skyla, I can’t switch my feelings on and off like a light. I don’t know—maybe Cooper is right and my feelings are in retrograde. Maybe they will catch up—but for now—while I try to wrap my mind around all of this—I’m staying with Wes. I feel safe with him.”

  “You’re the only one. He wants to kill everyone else. He wants us all locked up on Raven’s Eye. How’s that for a Prince Charming?”

  “It’s not. I’ll be the first to admit it.” Her heart weighs heavy, I can tell. “Let me at least get through Charlie’s first holidays in peace. I’ll figure out what to do once Wes gets his powers back. I feel terrible for him.”

  “Laken, he’s being punished—and not enough in my opinion.”

  She rocks the baby in her arms and shrugs. “I love him, Skyla. Wes has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. And friends love one another through thick and thin.”


  “Poor Coop,” I say it under my breath, scouting the landscape until I spot him speaking with Marshall out by the llamas.

  “I know, I feel terrible. I mean, in a strange way I love him, too, and for some unexplained reason it feels as if I love him just as much.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “What a horrible day it will be when I realize how powerfully I once felt for him.”

  “Horrible for Wes because you’ll dump him in a heartbeat. You’ve done it once. You’ll do it again. Mark my words.”

  Mom and Emily stagger our way carrying an enormous three-tiered birthday cake between them. It’s sparkling under the twinkle lights and has two hot pink candles already glowing with their flames threatening to extinguish themselves.

  The entire pint-sized crowd gathers around, and we sing a cheery rendition of “Happy Birthday” to the bright-eyed dimpled darling. Tobie is eating up every minute of it, dancing and clapping—slapping her father over the legs for the hell of it. I knew I liked her.

  Demetri picks her up and helps her blow out the candles like a champ, and a round of applause breaks out. Emily and Lexy get straight to cutting the cake and dolloping each plate with a scoop of ice cream.

  Chloe slithers between Laken and me.

  “Some brats have all the fun,” she muses.

  “You’re the only brat I see, Chloe.” I give a wink to Laken as we share a quiet laugh.

  Ezrina comes up with baby Alice—who just turned one a few weeks ago with not nearly as much fanfare down in the Wonderground. It was just a handful of us with Gage’s old head floating in that glass box on the table as if he were the centerpiece. Ezrina has taken a peculiar liking to it. Alice seems to enjoy it, too. Go figure. Emily baked a cake in the shape of a sword, per Ezrina’s wishes. It was to die for, and since Em baked this grand sparkling pink wonder as well, I’m sure it’s give-up-the-ghost-of-a-diet worthy itself.

  “Skyla.” Ezrina comes at me with that adorable cheddar-headed beauty, and I steal Alice from her and the tiny tot giggles away. “Be vigilant.” Ezrina lifts my chin with the crook of her finger until I’m forced to meet with her gaze. “Now, Skyla. This hour.”