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Roar of the Lion : Celestra Forever After 7

Page 33

by Addison Moore


  “You wouldn’t! What am I saying? Of course, you would. You’re the queen of drama. Go right ahead. And I’ll tell him it was your status quo porno I was forced to endure. He’ll believe me.”

  Yes, he will. You have him pussy-whipped. But in the back of his mind, he’ll wonder. Neither Logan nor Gage will ever feel like they were enough for you. And that alone satisfies me. You don’t get the happy ending, Skyla. Not really. Not if your Prince Charmings aren’t entirely convinced of your love for them.

  “Oh, good grief. I’m not going around the block with you. Logan and I have a love that transcends eternity. And if he doesn’t know how much I love him, then I can’t help him.”

  Okay, sounds good. But think about this, Skyla. What if the love triangle went another way? What if Logan were tormented with feelings for both you and Lexy? What if he were having wet dreams about Lexy right now—just hours from your wedding? What if he just expected you to understand that both you and Lexy were his soulmates?

  My blood boils just thinking about it.

  That’s right, Skyla. It does. And that is a normal reaction. What you’re doing is monstrous.

  I get up and toss myself into the shower. I try not to think about the things that Chloe said, but they replay in my mind like a very sad song.

  And I hate it.

  I’m not sure why, but I have always envisioned marrying Logan on a sunny spring day. Late morning. Under the dappled light from a willow tree.

  But here we are, late afternoon—new Skyla likes to sleep in, come to find out. The fog has tightened its grip on the island, and it’s cold as a witch’s tit outside. And that witch would be Rory herself.

  Whitehorse is dressed to the tacky nines with paper poms of flowers, silver cutout wedding bells, colorful Christmas lights in lieu of dainty twinkle lights, and some odd Gregorian chants are bellowing from the speakers. Rows of white ladder-back chairs line the grassy area just in front of Silent Cove, the tiny beach at the base of the property. I see just about everyone I know here and then some. I overheard Lexy saying that Skyla wanted a big to-do. And I’ll admit, Lexy has done her best with just about everything considering what and who she had to work with.

  Ellis, Coop, and Gage are with Logan laughing it up by the waterline as if there wasn’t a single thing wrong with this scenario, and suddenly I have the urge to go and strangle them all. Brody joins them and says a few words, and they suddenly turn somber. Most likely because he just mentioned he gave me a ride over. Me, the real Skyla. Not some celestial knockoff looking to get laid in a few short hours.

  Booty cruise. I close my eyes in disgust.

  Rory wishes she would be so lucky.

  The truth is, Logan and I aren’t taking a honeymoon. Not until I can right all the wrongs in this world and get myself back where I need to be—as the queen bee of the Nephilim people in more than just popularity. I need to snatch that crown right off of Gage Oliver’s head.

  I spot Tad over by the refreshment table filling his pockets with as many cookies as he can stuff in them. Mia and Melissa look amazing in pastel dresses as they talk to Rev and Gabe, their prospective dates, and I’m guessing future husbands. Liam stands with Barron and Emma. I can’t help but scowl at Emma. I’m shocked she showed up at all. But I suppose having me marry Logan will satisfy her in some way, seeing that it cements the fact I’ll never be with Gage again. Little does she know, I didn’t need to marry anyone for that never to happen.

  Good riddance, Gage Oliver. And you can take your psychotic mother with you, too.

  I give a quick scan of the vicinity in hopes to see a celestial visitor or two. But my heavenly mother looks to be steering clear of this fiasco. My heart drops because I don’t see any sign of my father either. It has always been my fantasy to have my father walk me down the aisle—for me to walk down the aisle while marrying Logan. I suppose technically I will be walking down the aisle either way, but let’s face it, there’s only one way to do it right.

  My eyes snag on Dominique Winters as she stands with her daughter Melody, and the two of them turn to look my way as if on cue. They’re both cold and unfeeling, stunning red hair and ruby red lips. Dominique’s eyes ride down to the tray in my hands, and she gives a slight nod.

  It’s funny how my mother isn’t here to help me, and yet Dominique Winters, the very witch that killed Gage, is here helping me get back what’s mine. I glance down to the brownies I baked this morning with that deadly mixture of Dominique’s no mercy blend. I threw away the mixing bowl, the fork I used to stir it, the spatula, the baking pan, and the knife.

  After nearly killing my dear, sweet Nathan last year with another one of her poisons, I’m not taking any chances. Whatever Rory doesn’t eat goes straight into the toilet.

  A couple of chairs get knocked over from my right, and I turn to see the kids running and screaming. Barron and Nathan look shockingly dapper and so much older in their miniature suits. A moan trembles from me. How I can’t wait to hold them in my arms again—that is, if they ever speak to me again. Rory has been so very cold, banishing them at every turn. It’s going to take time to repair the damage she’s done.

  Speaking of the bitch. I head into the house, past the beehive of caterers, and zip over to the back bedroom where the first thing I spy is precious Jaxson’s face.

  “Oh dear,” I whimper as tears come to my eyes when I see him all dolled up in a baby blue onesie.

  Mom frowns over at me. “They don’t make suits this small. Emma wanted him in a dress, but Logan put his foot down.”

  “He’s perfect. Don’t change him.”

  “Of course, he’s perfect. He’s my son,” Rory quips, and I look up to her in all her ridiculous majesty. She’s donned the horror frock from the eighties, puffy sleeves, far too many sequins, and a full bell skirt with ruffles and lace. Her hair looks almost tame, her makeup a touch too much, but I can take the purple lipstick off. “Don’t just stand there,” she snips at my mother. “I want all those knee-high banshees herded and locked in a closet. I won’t have them ruining my big day. Do you hear me? Go!” she riots, and my mother quickly darts out of the room.

  Laken steps forward, and it’s only then I see the rest of the girls in the room, Bree, Emily, Michelle, Lexy taking a million pictures, and Nat staring at her phone.

  “Hey”—Laken pulls me to the side—“you brought treats?” She dips her hand to the tray, and I quickly pull it out of range.

  “Not for you.” I make a face. “Not for anybody,” I whisper just as Marshall and Ezrina dip their head into the room.

  Marshall glares at me a moment.

  “Ms. Messenger.” He nods to Rory. “Beautiful as always. I’ll be waiting outside for you.”

  Rory thinks Marshall is walking her down the aisle. Little does she know, he’s walking me down the aisle. I hope. I spent more than a few hours with him last night going over how this might work. He’s not thrilled with the idea of a poisoning, but he’s willing to facilitate the soul transfer if I can get back into my body before everything shuts down. And we have a safe word to ensure the spirit he’s speaking to will indeed be me.

  Ezrina met up with me last night as well and inspected the goods I purchased from Dominique. She was just as insulted that I went to the witch as she was amused, but if there’s any penalty to pay for the crime I didn’t want any of it falling on Ezrina’s head. But she’s here to administer an elixir to me after I take possession of my body again, something that will force me to empty the contents of my stomach on command along with something else she’s cooked up to dull the pain this might cause.

  “Say a prayer,” I whisper to Laken. “It’s go time.”

  Laken shudders. Her hair shines like gold, and she’s donned a cobalt blue dress that only magnifies her beauty.

  “Coop is singing as she walks down the aisle,” she whispers. “She didn’t want it, but I convinced her.” Tears glitter in her eyes. “We just wanted to do something extra special. And don’t worry. I’
ll make sure the kids are there.” She swallows hard. “I guess we’ll know if it’s you by the dress.” She shrugs, and I give a little nod.

  Laken and Logan are in on my scheme. I’m assuming Coop and Wes know, too. Logan said he’d tell Ellis for me, and I broke the news to Brody on the car ride over.

  “It’s happening,” I say mostly to myself as I survey the room. “Everyone out!” I bellow, and the rest of the girls give a lazy glance my way. “I mean it. I want to talk to Messenger alone.” My eyes meet with Rory’s. “We haven’t always gotten along, but we’re on the same side now, and there are some things I want to say to her.”

  Rory’s brows hike as if she were anxious to hear it. “Get out, all of you. It seems Chloe and I have business to tend to.”

  The room quickly drains with Michelle butting her shoulder to mine. “Who knew you were such a kiss ass, Bishop?”

  Lexy sneers my way as she tries to take a brownie, and I smack her hand away. My God, I almost let her have it.

  Soon the final click of the door is heard behind me, and the air stills as Rory and I lock eyes.

  Rory lifts her head a notch, the pride in her eyes unmistakable. “You’ve made your decision, haven’t you?”

  Chloe laughs. She’s still trying to strike a deal with me. Tell her yes. I’ll be her little celestial bitch. I want to see where it’ll get me.

  “No.” I shake my head. And that was meant for you, by the way.

  Rory picks up her dress and steps forward. Her pretty pink pedicure makes her toenails look like candy.

  “What this?” She eyes the brownies on my platter with a greedy grin.

  “I took it from catering,” I don’t mind spilling the lie. “Logan thought you and the girls should eat.”

  Rory snatches up two with each hand and shovels one into her mouth with urgency as if she hasn’t eaten for days.

  “Mmm.” She rolls her eyes. “Tastes like paradise,” she says through a mouthful.

  My heart begins to race just watching her. My entire body breaks out into a sweat, and I can hardly catch my breath.

  Oh my God, she’s doing it, I say to Chloe.

  Wow. And it was so damn easy. Death by chocolate. Let’s hope she gets a serious case of the Grim Reaper soon. I’m just itching to have my body back. You don’t think she’ll head in this direction, do you?

  Once she’s a free spirit? I ask. Nope. My possession of your body was a one-off. You are marked for the lamb. Hopefully, she’ll head back to the other side, and we won’t have to think about her for the next eighty years or so.

  Rory makes a face. “Fetch me some water, would you?” Her hand glides to her belly before she shoves another brownie into her mouth and quickly swallows it down.

  A bottle of water in the corner catches my eye, and I quickly scoop it up.

  “Oh, thank God.” She gives a hard blink. “My vision is blurry. I swear, that baby screamed in my ear all night. I told Logan to shove a pillow over its head, but he’s a glutton for punishment.” She reaches for the water bottle, and I yank it just out of reach.

  Her eyes meet with mine. “Give that to me right now, Chloe. This isn’t a time to play around. I haven’t eaten all morning, and those treats aren’t setting well with me. Do you know how difficult it is to go to the bathroom in this dress?”

  “I can imagine.”

  She swipes for the bottle again, and her eyes bulge as she examines me in this new light.

  A horrific cry rips from her as she drops to her knees.

  “Somebody help me,” she wails.

  “I’m here, Rory,” I say. “I’m here to help you—to the other side.”

  All of time seems to stand still. Her eyes meet with mine as a silent cry evicts from her throat.

  “No.” She shakes her head furiously. “Please no. I have to live. I have to help my people. Logan—he was meant for me. Never for Skyla. I don’t know what she’s told you, but it’s all a lie. Chloe, you and I were meant for greatness. And Skyla—she stripped it from us. You have to believe me.” She lets out an agonizing cry. “Chloe, help me.” She holds her hand out to me as a choking sound emits from her.

  The door bursts open, and both Marshall and Ezrina head this way.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Rory howls as she extends a hand to Ezrina. “She’s trying to kill me. She’s fed me something vile.” A cry evicts from her with that last word.

  I lean in and pat down her damp forehead with my hand and watch as moisture beads on her upper lip.

  “Rory”—I whisper her name sweet as a lullaby—“it’s time for you to leave and never come back. This body, this life, wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for me.”

  Her lips quiver uncontrollably as she begins to shake.

  “Help me, Chloe,” she stutters out the words. “We can have it all.”

  “I will have it all,” I snap. “And I’m not Chloe,” I say. “I’m Skyla.”

  Rory starts in on a violent seizure, and Ezrina shouts for Marshall to hold her down.

  It’s really happening, Messenger, Chloe pants. Let’s hope you didn’t screw this up, too.

  “God, I hope not.”

  “Ms. Messenger,” Marshall barks my way as he does his best to steady her. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “Yes.” I fall to my knees as I watch my body buck and writhe.

  Ezrina pulls an assembly of vials from her bag and lays them out. “Her pulse is weak. She’s diminishing.” Her eyes meet with mine. “This will hurt only for a moment. Once you’re confirmed inside, I’ll start the relief efforts.”

  Marshall leans in, bearing those fiery red eyes my way. “Not before you utter the safe word.”

  “Yes, the safe word.”

  Rory falls limp, and Ezrina looks my way. “She’s gone.”

  Marshall clamps his hand onto my head and shouts something unintelligible in a language not my own.

  Both Chloe and I let out a riotous cry, and something deep within this body I’m in snaps like the severing of a cord, and I’m lighter than air, floating right out of Chloe Bishop’s earthly frame. I stare down at my lifeless form, so disastrous, so beautifully broken.

  And just like that, a strong pull vacuums me toward the floor, right back into the body fate had landed me in the first time around.

  A horrific cry expels from me, followed by a sickly moan. Every last part of me is on fire.

  Bad idea.

  Very bad idea.

  “Speak,” Marshall thunders over me. “The word, Ms. Messenger. Utter the word and the pain shall be no more.”

  The word. I struggle to open my eyes, but another moan escapes me instead.

  What the hell is the word?

  It comes to me in a flash, and my lips fumble over it.

  “Speak,” Marshall’s voice reverberates over my face.

  “Butterfly.” The word comes out in less than a breath before a needle is injected into my arm and I’m forced to take a sharp breath.

  Something stirs in me, but the pain, the agony of my bowels imploding isn’t dulled in the least.

  “Logan,” I groan. He’s waiting for me. My boys. They need me. My people. Gage. I have to live. I have to pull this body together.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and summon every ounce of Celestra power in my being.

  My body begins to warm unnaturally. The pain becomes intense, sublime, nuclear in every capacity. My mouth opens, and not a cry is able to crests my lips.

  Then, in a blaze of glory, a white light slaps through my body as I focus all of my energy on healing my cells, my mind, and my spirit. My lungs suck in as much air as they can, a drowning woman begging for air. My fingers grip this atrocity of a wedding dress as I let out a final cry, but it’s not born of pain, it’s born of victory.

  I give a few hard blinks until Marshall and Ezrina come into focus.

  “Skyla?” Ezrina leans in, and I nod.

  “It’s me,” I pant. “I feel fine. The pain—it’s gone.” I look over to find
Chloe in a heap. “My God, help her.”

  Ezrina is quick to roll her over and slap her across the face, and sure enough, Chloe moans to life.

  “Messenger.” She writhes a moment. “Why do I feel like shit?”

  Ezrina nods. “This too shall pass. Come now. We’ve a wedding to tend to.”

  “Ms. Bishop”—Marshall helps me up on my wobbly feet as he addresses her—“fetch the proper accouterment.”

  “Yes, freakin’ sir.” Chloe stumbles to her feet and staggers a moment. “Woohoo! I’m back, bitches!” she shouts. “And I’m going to kick every ass I see.” She bolts out the door, and for a fleeting moment I wonder if I’ll ever see her or my dress again.

  Doesn’t matter. I’d rather get married in the nude.

  “Quick,” I say. “Help me get this disaster of a frock off.”

  Marshall disrobes me with expert ease, his eyes lovingly sealed over mine.

  “You are a delight to have back in your proper form, Ms. Messenger.”

  “Thank you, Marshall.” I leap over him with a hug before pulling Ezrina in, too. “Thank you both. Now to get the rest of my world in order.”

  Before they can utter a word, Chloe is back and I’m in that glorious gown that fits me like a glove.

  “Marshall, Ezrina,” I say as I look to Chloe. “Can I have a moment, please?”

  They step out of the room, and it’s just Chloe and me like it has been these last several weeks.

  Her hair is mussed and I flatten it with my hands as I pull her in close.

  “You,” I say as I land my lips to hers. “Thank you.”

  Her chest bucks as she pulls away. Her eyes cut to the window and a look of curiosity piques her attention.

  I glance that way and don’t see a single thing.

  “Oh my God, it’s her, isn’t it?” I breathe the words out. “Rory—she’s trying to lure you. Don’t do it, Chloe. Don’t listen to her. Look at the nightmare she caused for the both of us. Remember, above all, we fight for the same people. And I’m thankful to you. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”

 

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