Chloe and Marshall come up on either side of me, ensconcing me like mismatched bookends.
“Ms. Messenger, mind your position,” Marshall scolds.
Chloe glides in and wraps her arm around me, securing her body to mine. “He eviscerated your people. Nicholas Haver, among others, no longer has the breath of God in their lungs because of him. Have no mercy, Skyla. He lied to your face. He plucked your heart out and ate it for the hell of it. Be ruthless. Be strong. Be the leader your people need you to be. Do not bow down to the enemy. Do not let that beautiful face con you for another moment. This is the fleecing of your soul.” Her words swim into my ear like a song.
This is the fleecing of my soul. Gage walks like a god, shoulders back, confident. His chest looks wider than ever, the muscles in his arms far more bulbous. He’s wearing that I’m-going-to-take-you-back-to-our-bedroom-and-make-you-mine look in his eyes, making me dizzy, making me want to weep—making me want to fall down in blatant worship right here in front of God and all of our guests.
“Happy birthday, Skyla,” Gage—those siren-like eyes glossed with moisture just for me—lunges at me with an embrace, and I don’t fight it. My body bucks with pain, but I can’t do it. I can’t cry in front of all these people. Once the tears come, that storm will never end. His body feels solid and real, the scent of his cologne warm and inviting. Then it’s over all too quickly and my flesh is left craving him once again.
He pulls back, his features alarmingly stoic. His gaze bears into mine, loving and familiar. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you.”
I blink in response. A hug. An apology. I wasn’t expecting any of it.
Marshall’s chest expands with his next breath. “Yes, well, you’ve done it. But she’s moved past the pain. She doesn’t need you. She never will.” He nods to the three of us. “Pardon me, I believe the dinner bell has rung.” He takes off, and I take a deep breath.
Marshall is right. I need to be strong. But the scent of Gage Oliver’s familiar cologne makes me want to sob. How dare he wear it. He’s an imposter. He has been all along.
Chloe leans into me, curling her arm over my shoulders like a cat. “You’ve bonded us, Gage. Isn’t that something? You’re taking a walk on the wicked side while I lie with Messenger, wiping away her tears, cheering her on as she decries her feelings for you. I hate to say it, but I was right all along. The two of you never belonged together.” Chloe sheds a dark smile as she heads for the house.
“And then there were three.” Logan’s cheek flickers, a failed attempt at a wink as he appears from nowhere. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.” He pulls me in and lands a warm kiss over my temple. I’m right here. Breathe. You can do this. The first time is the hardest. I promise I won’t let him hurt you anymore.
For so long Gage was the wind on which my wings sailed, and now there’s not even a breeze to hold me up.
Logan pumps a short-lived smile because, of course, he heard. You’ll be fine. Just remember, helicopters don’t fly. They beat the air into submission. You’ll do the same.
“I’m good,” I say it out loud for all to hear. It takes all of my strength to pull my gaze to Gage, and my entire body aches to witness him at this close proximity. “Your apology is neither needed nor wanted. You can save all of your thoughts, your words, your explanations, and I do believe you have them, save them for the boys when they come of age. I’m sure they’ll have questions. I don’t need answers. I have realities that I’m still dealing with.”
His eyes widen a notch, his powerful stare still pinned over me. His fingers are stuffed in his front pockets. He looks both relaxed and on guard at the same time. Come to find out, Gage has always been a dichotomy.
“I will do this however you wish,” he breathes the words out like a poem.
“Go find your boys and love them, Gage. I don’t need you here with me.”
He takes a breath, dejected, as he takes off to do as he’s told, and I’m glad about it. It’s the boys he came for. Not me.
“Come on.” Logan takes my hand and navigates us into the woods behind the property a good twenty feet deep until the fog circles around us like a shield. He brushes his thumb over my cheek and pecks his nose to mine. His eyes glow citrine even in this dismal light, and I can feel his minty breath warming my face. “You can let it out, Skyla. It’s just me.”
“I’m not about to cry, Logan. I’m not ruining perfectly good mascara over that thing he’s become. Besides”—I press my hands over his chest hard—“once I start, I can never seem to find the shut-off valve.” Logan let me know he was in communication with him. Talking about everything under the sun, watching TV all night like they were kids again. I think they both need it at this point. Gage blew up everything around us and latched onto Demetri to stay afloat. Logan chose Gage himself as a raft.
“Good.” He gives my cheek a light pinch. “I want to see you enjoy this day. It’s your birthday, and it’s the boys’ celebration. There’s still a lot to smile about,” he says it with a frown, and the irony doesn’t escape me.
We head back and fill our plates to the brim, taking a seat with our old friends from West as if this were any other get-together, as if nothing at all had happened. Gage isn’t with us, and his absence is undeniably notable. It’s as if my body has suddenly decided to walk around without a vital organ, my lungs, my heart, all of the above. Sadly, the vital organ I lacked prior to this was my brain. I should have seen it coming, shouldn’t I?
“Messenger?” Chloe kicks my foot. “Is anyone home? I just asked you a question.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m falling into a turkey coma faster than anticipated.” It’s a lie. I haven’t touched a bite of my food. I’ve secretly been feeding it to D-O-G for the last half hour. “What is it?”
“Your best memory from West. We’ve been going in a circle for the last twenty minutes divulging this crap. Pick one. It better have me in it.” She gives a sly wink.
“Right.” A thousand snippets flash through my mind, and slowly I’m pulled under the rushing current of memories I shared with Gage, each of them slapping to the forefront of my mind like those relentless waves at Rockaway—Gage and those magical kisses, his warm laugh, those dimples I’ve made love to all on their own, Gage stealing me away from class, protecting me from Fems, from Dudley. Me cheering him on the field. Our alone time in the butterfly room. Those faithful blue eyes that watched me with such possessiveness, such an underlying sadness, and perhaps this was why. We were one soul for a time, or so it seemed. There is no shortage of places and memories for my mind to explore.
“Well?” Chloe belts it out. “What is it? Let me guess. It was the time we won All-State. Isn’t it?”
“That was it.” I blink back tears, and my eyes sting as if they were lined with acid. “All-State. I was the butterfly—on the pyramid.” I nod to Laken. “We won, and it was nothing short of a miracle.”
That wasn’t it at all. In fact, that trip would be at the bottom of the list. “It was actually cheering.” I clear my throat as I force my own narrative to surface. “It was cheering for the West Paragon Dawgs. I miss those days. I think I might actually miss Cerberus, too.”
“You should come back with us,” Bree gasps as if it were the best idea she’s had in ages, and it might be. “Chloe and I can use another hand on the field.”
“Yes.” Chloe crimps her lips. “I do miss barking orders at you.”
Mom shouts for the masses to come sing “Happy Birthday” before I can answer. Working with Chloe again at West sounds like yet another brand of torment, but it couldn’t be any worse than the current nightmare I’m embroiled in. Maybe once the boys go to pre-school. Kindergarten, college, I’ll consider it.
I head over and pick up Nathan while Gage holds Barron. To the untrained eye, we look remarkably normal, staggeringly sane, deliriously happy, but it’s all an act, a party mask I’m wearing for the camera, for the boys, for all the prying eyes around us.
Once the birthda
y candles are blown out, a few gifts are opened, the boys both begin to sob, and the party comes to an abrupt conclusion. The boys are so tuckered out they’re practically delusional. Mom and I haul them up to bed before coming back down to say goodnight to our guests. I hug Laken the longest, my truest friend, the one I wish I could shake some sense into the most.
One by one the Landon house empties out. Mia and Gabriel run, giggling up to their bedroom, and Rev looks as if he’s about to murder someone as he stomps out the door. I head out back to help Emily and Bree clean up the mess. Brody takes off. Ellis and Giselle follow suit as do Cooper and Logan.
I sweep up the plastic tablecloths filled with debris, haul them over to the side of the house, and pitch them into the trash.
An arm hooks around my waist and pulls me in abruptly, landing my back to the wall. All I see are cobalt eyes glowing in the darkness, Paragon fog leaning in around us as if eager to see where this might lead.
Gage tilts into me with those dark brows creased with worry, with pain. His features say so much more than words. The weight of his chest presses against me, and my body weeps for him, weeps with relief to have him back against me where he belongs. Gage offers up a look that says I’m sorry, I love you, let’s step outside of reality for just a little while all rolled in one. He winces momentarily as his face inches closer to mine, and then just like that, his lips find mine, soft and lingering. Our mouths fall open, oven-hot and hungry, devouring one another as if it were the first kiss, the last, and every single one in between. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in so tight you’d think I were trying to press right through him. His fury, his hurt and anger, his deepest love for me, I can taste them all. Our primal kisses span hours, days, all of eternity. There are no human sentiments to describe the animalistic pleasure, the sheer heaven of this sizzling exchange. This is no apology, no cry for peace, nothing even close to surrender. Gage takes us on a tour of the mind, a snapshot of the two of us kissing at Rockaway, Hawaii, Seattle, in all of the countries, the time continuums that we have ever shared this very act. The two of us glow in the butterfly room, in our new home. I remember that night, our last night as Skyla and Gage before Demetri initiated his slaughter. Those kisses, the glow of soft electric blue wings lighting up the dark around us. This is a time machine of who we were, his way of convincing me that all of it was real. No tears for the past—the past was beautiful. Maybe tears won’t be needed after all. Then the pièce de résistance—our first kiss comes in clear—our first real kiss, the two of us doing exactly this against the side of Lexy Bakova’s house during one of those never-ending parties we went to way back when I first stepped onto this island. That kiss was hot and heavy, born in secret much like this one. The beginning and the end, one in the same.
Gage and I have come full circle. He still loves me. I can feel the power of his affection pouring into me like a nuclear infusion.
This is love. This is real.
And just like that, he evaporates to nothing.
Demetri arrives at five to midnight just the way he promised. I step out of the house with the soft click of the door, a letter in my hand.
“You look stunning.” Demetri offers a cordial nod as he hooks his arm through mine. “Shall we?”
“I have a quick stop I need to make first, if you don’t mind.” I wag the letter at him.
Demetri transports us to Logan’s first, to Whitehorse where I find him fast asleep in his bed, his arms spread wide like wings. I bring my lips to the envelope before setting it over the pillow next to him. Logan will make a great leader for Celestra. Far better than I have ever been. Perhaps that is why my mother favored him all along. Maybe my newfound sister is right—my mother was never telling me the truth.
I stride back to Demetri and take up his hand as Logan’s dark bedroom is traded for the vastness, the dazzling brightness of Gage’s dominion, Shaddai—the enchanted throne room to be exact.
The airy realm feels downright icy and sterile, but despite that fact there are a multitude of stunning oversized vases, ten feet tall at least, each brimming to the floor with lavender wisteria. It gives the entire castle an enchanted appeal. Rows and rows of the purple flowers line either side of the throne, and there’s a floral arch made of crisp white roses that sits at the base of the stairs leading up to the throne itself. To the right is the glass covenant room with its stone of sacrifice, and from here I can see there are rose petals strewn over it in a sea of pink and red. The entry itself has an enormous archway comprised of pristine white garden roses. That’s where Gage and I will begin a whole new love story, fire written over stone. Making love with Gage for the first time under our new covenant will be a pleasure, a treasure. One that I will memorize to replay for all of time. It will be positively divine, perfectly poetic. The room I’m standing in is opulent in and of itself, with its golden throne so tall and grand I’m almost moved to fall down in worship even though it sits empty at the moment. It’s only then that I note a smaller golden throne inlaid with pearls, and it just so happens to be adorned with a beautiful dark-haired princess with dimples that rival her father’s—her feet propped up on a ruby footstool—Sage.
“You came.” Her affect brightens as she springs my way. Her small frame is wrapped in an ornate gold robe with an intricate embroidered design throughout. The fabric feels stiff when I hug her, but I steal a moment to bury my nose in her hair. Sage holds the scent of fresh cut apples, and this alarms me on some level. That haunted house in the Transfer is drenched in this scent. I’ve always felt the Counts used it to hide something sinister, the stench of death, of wicked deceit. “Mother”—she pulls back and examines me—“you are positively luminous. You look just like Your Grace Candace this fine evening.”
I stand and straighten my dress, doing a little curtsy in the process. In truth, this was my backup costume this year for Halloween, the Grecian goddess with its off the shoulder swoop and heavenly soft pleats that run the length of the dress. A tiny belt made of golden leaves wraps around my now slender waist. Not having an appetite for a month will dial you down a few dress sizes even if you don’t mean for it to.
“Where is he?” I’m breathless at the thought of seeing Gage—of being with Gage.
Demetri was right. The Factions are better off with Logan. I’ve already left them in tatters. God only knows the destruction I’ll cause if I try to pick up the pieces.
I’m choosing my family. That kiss Gage poured into me tonight let me know that he’s choosing us, too. My body aches for his. Just one touch and I’ll lose it. My muscles shake to have him, to wrap my entire existence around the man I love. Gage and I will find a way to push through this. Someway, somehow, he’ll see he’s made an error. We can fix this. Together, we are unstoppable.
“He’ll be here momentarily.” Her delicate features stiffen. “Demetri will host the ceremony. It will be brief. Once you’ve been officiated in a new covenant, a binding one that cannot be revoked, the room will clear, allowing you and Father the privacy you’ll need on the stone of sacrifice. I’m sure you’re looking forward to conjoining with him again.” She crimps her lips as if disappointed in my urge to have her father that way. “And once you’ve consummated the union, the flames of fortune will dance throughout the throne room. You will be sealed together forever with fire.” Her eyes harden over mine as if I were about to slit Gage’s throat all over again.
“I look forward to piecing my family back together.” I run my hand over her lush, soft hair. “I love you, Sage, and I love our family.”
“Ms. Messenger.”
I turn to find Marshall and Chloe striding up, both dressed to the nines, Marshall in a tuxedo of all things, and Chloe in a pale yellow gown just like the one she was buried in all those years ago, and a chill runs through me at the sight as if it were a warning. It doesn’t escape me that she’s chosen to wear the same dress to my covenant wedding ceremony as she did to her funeral. Chloe is dying once again on the inside now that I’m b
onding myself to Gage irrevocably.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her. It’s true. Chloe is stunning, and as much as I wish it was Laken here instead, I’m actually glad to see a friendly face.
Marshall leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I’m here, Skyla. You are not alone. I will be with you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. In typical Marshall fashion, his words are cryptically beautiful. “I appreciate your support. The both of you.”
Sage gives my fingers a hard yank. “It’s almost midnight. It’s time, Mother.”
I turn to find Gage, Wes his forever companion, and Demetri standing at the altar waiting. Gage is resplendent in a dark suit, his eyes a shocking shade of the sea and sky. He’s shaved. His hair is slicked back, still damp the way I love it, and his dimples are twitching just for me. How I long to yank him over that stone of sacrifice and set this entire dominion on fire.
The sound of a beautiful harmony fills the air—strings and wind instruments, a heavenly choir buried just beneath that. It carries me with its melody, and I float on over as if I had wings on my feet. Marshall links his arm with mine and deposits me at my lover’s feet.
Gage bears into me with all of his affection. The warmth palpitating from him feels like a benediction, and my bones, my soul demands to worship him—and I will in just a few short minutes.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers it like a secret. His lips curl, his dimples invert, and just like that, my chest explodes with hope and hope unstoppable. I’m bursting with love and with joy, with a happiness I never thought I’d know again.
Demetri steps up. “My precious son, do you accept this carnal covenant blessed by the Master Himself, binding and lawful for the season that your beloved is robed in a coat of flesh and beyond into the afterlife where you can enjoy the fruit of spiritual bonding?”
Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5) Page 77