Crown of Ashes

by Addison Moore

  “Skyla”—her voice breaks, and it stuns me—“you did it. You bested me.” A visible lump rises in her throat, and she swallows it down. “You caught me off-guard and fed me to the lions—just like you said you wouldn’t. You know what they say, a covenant made is a covenant broken.” A dull laugh comes from her, and yet my heart plummets. But my God, I did not break our covenant. I’m fighting for it. Still am. “I have to hand it to you—you acted just like I would have.” Her eyes gloss over, and she looks dazed as if I had thumped her over the head with a spirit sword. “You tied a noose of lies around my neck and left me to hang. And here I am.” She takes a staggering step back. “The day your mother banished me, I had lost all hope.” The word hope sounds like nothing more than a pop. “And the day you pulled me free—made promises to me that night by the fire—I felt as though life’s red carpet had rolled out for me once again. I thought she came through for me. Skyla, my nemesis, wants something with me. I can be of use to her. We can rally together and save the fucking world.” She grunts as if the thought made her want to vomit. “And now here we are. You in the throes of celebration. The high time of your life. And me, far worse off than I was that night in the Transfer. At least then I could set foot on this planet without having to take the fall for bullshit you were responsible for to begin with. You got me!” she shouts those last words with her arms stretched wide, a wicked smile brewing on her lips. “You did it, Skyla. You outsmarted me at last!” She laughs, and her whole body convulses. “And you should celebrate. This is your day. Dear Skyla”—she purrs as she takes a step backward—“happy fucking birthday. Your gift will be a little late, but you’ll undoubtedly know it’s from me. Just know it wasn’t my idea entirely. After all, I’m not nearly as bright as you are.” She turns and glides through the murky evening fog, making a beeline for Demetri. Chloe wraps her arms around his neck and slaps him with a kiss, so long, so hard it makes my mother gasp sharp and loud. Chloe pushes him away with a shove and darts into the woods, and I do the only thing I can think of—I dart right after her.

  “Chloe, wait!” I speed into the neck of the forest and scream her name until my throat rubs raw. “I want to help you! We are bound. We are one! Please! Let me help you. I’ll send you to the Transfer! You’ll be safe. I’ll keep you safe just the way I promised.” My voice tires from yelling as I come to rest upon the pale shoulder of a birch. “I’ll send you wherever you want to go.”

  “Hey.” Gage comes up, breathless, and lands a warm hand over my shoulder. “It’s okay.” He wraps his arms around me, and the tears come. All of them are for Chloe Bishop. In a lot of ways, Chloe really is my dark twin, my shadowed reflection in a broken mirror. For as much as we’re different, we have that much in common. “Your mother just pulled out the cake. Let’s focus on the boys for now.” He pulls back and offers an anemic smile. “Let’s focus on you, too. Don’t let this ruin your special day. We’ll figure something out for Chloe after the dust settles tomorrow night. Her troubles aren’t going away anytime soon, but today and tomorrow are fleeting. Our boys only get one first birthday.” He gently lifts my chin. “And you only get one per year, too.”

  “Thankfully.” I wipe my face clean and let the fog kiss my slicked cheeks as the two of us make our way back. Drake has his boom box going, and Ellis and Giselle are engaged in some sort of dance-off. Mom and Emma are bouncing the boys on their hips, and the mood is once again jovial.

  Dr. Oliver steps up and garners the crowd’s attention.

  “Before we sing, I just wanted to say how proud I am of Skyla and Gage for being the best parents little Nathan and Barron could ask for. You’ve both come so far—as people and a couple. I’m proud and honored to have the two of you raising my precious grandchildren. And to Nathan and Barron, may God give you the strength to live a life in search of His will, with a hungry heart full of love and integrity. I know you’ll both go far in this wonderful world. Happy birthday, boys. And happy birthday, Skyla and Gage.”

  The crowd roars to life, and Mia leads us into a rather cantankerous version of “Happy Birthday”. And before we’re through, I pick up Barron, and Gage takes Nathan in his arms. We lead them to two blue candles and help blow them out. It’s a familiar scene, Gage and I blowing out candles simultaneously, but now it’s infinitely better. The two of us with our sweet baby boys, our own flesh and blood knit from our love. The four of us cheer and huddle as Gage wraps his strong arms around us. And I have never felt so whole, so complete, perfect, and so well-loved. Our little family is bliss. This is heaven. With all my heart, I wish Sage could have been here to celebrate with us.

  That night, after an exhausting battle to feed and change the boys, we pack up any and everything we can into the minivan. I hug my mother, my sisters, Em, and Bree as Gage and I drive off to the Estates to our forever home that we renovated with love.

  We pull into the driveway that Liam cobbled together with ivory-colored paver stones, and admire the landscaping Logan pitched in for—a line of pepper trees sway their soft feather-like branches as if waving us in. A row of gerbera daisies in every color brighten the world as the porch light shines down on them with a warm peachy glow. The boys are asleep in their seats, already in their PJs—thankfully, the nursery upstairs is well-equipped to greet them. And thanks to modern technology, Gage turned the heater on through an app on his phone before we ever left the Landon house so we will be warm as toast as soon as our feet walk through the door—that beautiful oversized red door that I love so much. The outside of the structure was completely redone. Gone are the haunted eyes, the dilapidated everything, and in its place a white, perfectly framed box with upper French doors and railings, and just above that a gorgeous round window gifting moonlight into the attic.

  “Come on.” Gage taps me gently on the knee. “Just you and me.”

  We head out, and I race him up the porch with a laugh caught in my throat.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” He scoops me into his arms and opens the door. “Skyla”—Gage looks down into my eyes with a softness that only true love can bring—“I couldn’t let Logan outdo me.” He winces. “I had Lex come by this afternoon and paint something around the frame just for you.”

  “You did!” I give his chest a light scratch as I look up and spy the elegant navy font that creates a banner over the doorframe.

  “It says Always and forever, you will be mine. You have all of my heart. Our love is eternal.”

  “Wow,” I marvel as a dull laugh aches in my chest. “Gage Oliver!” I sniff back tears, trying to stave them off for just one more moment. “I could not have said it better myself.” I reach up and wipe a tear from my husband’s eye and he smiles, those honeyed dimples digging in just for me. “You are my everything. Right now, always, and forever, you will be mine. You have all of my heart. Our love is eternal.” I pull him in, and his mouth crashes over mine with a kiss that is sweet and indulgent. Gage walks us over the threshold to our official new home, on this, the official first night we will spend in it together.

  We work diligently getting the boys to their beds, the smell of the fresh new carpet enlivens the air in their room, and it energizes me. Gage and I speed to our new bedroom—a cavernous space with a bed the size of a swimming pool, a bathroom the size of our last bedroom, and a glorious walk-in closet that I will never have enough clothes to fill.

  “There’s one more thing,” Gage says, reeling me in by the waist. That pained smile reprises itself on his face as he winces. “There’s also one other area I couldn’t let Logan top me—but, in my defense, it was my idea to begin with. Come on.” He grabs me by the hand, and I’m breathless as I follow him into the hall. Gage carefully pulls down a set of hideaway stairs that lead to the attic.

  “You first.” He helps me up, and I climb into the waiting black hole. The small round window near the top lets in a hint of moonlight, but it’s not until I land inside do I note the glass has been covered with a curtain.

  “Is this my escape ha
tch in the event the boys try to tie me up?”

  “Nope.” He hops up beside me, and the lights blink on. “It’s your new butterfly room.”

  A breath gets locked in my throat. A brilliant cobalt glow permeates the expansive space, and covering every last square inch of the walls are enormous bright blue butterflies.

  “Oh my God.” I make my way to my feet and spin in a slow circle as I take in the ethereal scene. Butterflies as big as my hands flap their wings against the wall as they ever so slowly wake to life. One by one they pick up that strange glowing hue that I have only ever seen in Gage Oliver’s eyes. “They’re so beautiful.”

  Gage appears beside me, his arms around my waist as we melt into a slow soft dance. “You are beautiful. Happy birthday, Skyla. To the first of many in our new home.”

  My arms lock around his neck, and I can’t take my eyes off this gorgeous man that God saw fit to gift me. No, it wasn’t my mother. It wasn’t Demetri. Gage Oliver is truly a gift from the Master Himself.

  Gage looks silently into my eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his chest, and in a burst of light the room explodes with hundreds of butterflies fluttering freely all around us. Sweet music plays in the background as Gage orchestrates a night to remember for the ages.

  He blinks us back to our bedroom, the butterflies right along with us as they offer their glowing splendor in lieu of light.

  “I think we’ve died and gone to heaven,” I whisper, pulling him onto the bed by his shirt and forcibly making him lie on top of me.

  Gage hikes up on his elbows, those eyes of his brightening the room all on their own.

  “We made it, Skyla.” His lips collapse to mine, and we share a heated kiss filled with promise that tastes like forever.

  “The best part?” I say, stripping him clean of his clothes, and he struggles to do the same for me. “You and I get to do this night after glorious night.”

  “That is the best part.” He steals a string of kisses down my neck. “You know what’s a close second? Not one sign of Tad Landon roaming the halls in his underwear.”

  “Whatever you say, Greg.” I give a little wink, and we share a quiet laugh while getting down to the very serious business of us.

  Those magical butterflies fill the room with a soft cobalt glow, enough to highlight the best parts of Gage Oliver’s body, which just so happens to be every single detail. And I make sure to lash every square inch of him with my tongue just as I promised myself I would—a birthday gift to myself. My lips make love to Gage thoroughly before my body ever has the chance. Gage and I bathe one another with our mouths, stroking, licking, memorizing our bodies as if this were the very first time. Our limbs entwine over one another as we indulge in the feast of the ages. Gage and I set fire to the sheets, and the walls erupt in flames as we pay homage to our love, as we partake in primal necessary worship. Gage pins my wrists to the bed, his body landing over mine with his chest bucking in and out in a fit of lust.

  “You know how I feel right now?” His breath sears over my face like a scorching wind.

  “Like you want to fuck me?” It takes all I have not to break out into a smile, but my stomach quivers with the laugh anyway.

  He winces. Gage Oliver looks so damn gorgeous with every expression he makes, but that humble maneuver always manages to make my insides squeeze tight.

  “That, too.” He dots my lips with a wet one. “I feel like my whole life, our lives have built up to this moment. I feel like a man, Skyla. Like I can take care of my wife and children the way I wish I could have from the beginning.”

  “A man, huh?” I bite down over my lip as I reach down and give that rock-hard ass of his a squeeze. “Prove it.”

  Gage growls as those dimples ignite over me. “I’m about to prove it to you all night long. Happy birthday, Skyla.”

  “It’s midnight.” I pull his lips over mine and whisper, “Happy birthday, Gage Oliver. I love you so much. Here’s to forever.”

  “Forever.” Gage plunges into my body as I wrap my legs around his back, and we get lost in making one another’s wishes come true.

  And we make them come true more than once, just the way he promised.

  I’ve made concessions before—hell, I’ve made more than my fair share of outright blunders. I’ve made big ones, too, but a part of me wonders if agreeing to let Demetri host part deux of the boys’ special day is the biggest mistake of them all. That unnatural disaster at his estate last December still haunts me. Although, given the fact Gage has since crossed over to the dark side—really, what else is there to lose?

  Gage and I stare long and hard at the package my mother dropped off this afternoon. The only thing we were told was that the event would be formal. Gage is wearing his best suit, complete with a black bow tie. Marshall brought me a gown, which might as well be made of chainmail. It’s that heavy. It’s reminiscent of that haunted couture he loved to robe me in all those years ago, and here he’s brought me another. Of course, I had to ask what special properties this haunted couture would provide, and he assured me the only superpower it held was to showcase my beauty. This gown is strapless, easily accessible as he so cavalierly pointed out while ogling my boobs. But the dress is gorgeous, a full-length deep blue brocade with pewter undertones. It’s a sacred hue and sets off my husband’s eyes like a blue flame.

  The boys look dapper, and a bit silly, in their matching miniature tuxedos. My mother said she looked high and low for these dashing little monkey suits and had to have them altered twice. And even though I smell Demetri’s credit card at the end of this gilded rainbow, I realize it was all done in love to please my mother first, then the boys. This entire extravagant night is an ode to Nathan and Barron, and that is something I can definitely get behind.

  Gage pulls the lid off the gold box my mother instructed that we not open until we hit Demetri’s driveway. Nestled inside sit two gorgeous masks, a black satin covering for Gage, no larger than the circumference around his eyes, and an ornate rhinestone beauty for me that affords me a heavy almond shape, like a pair of sexy cat’s eyes.

  “Masquerade!” I gasp as I dig in and pull the mask on. “What do you think?”

  Gage moans as if he were ready to take a bite out of me and my thighs quiver, because last night, and well into this morning, Gage Oliver took bite after scrumptious bite of every last inch of me. “I don’t know who you are, but why don’t we hook up before my wife comes back?”

  “Ha-ha”—I pull the mask down an inch—“I’m not laughing.”

  “You should.” He places the mask over his face and kisses me softly. “It’s a good look on you.”

  “The laugh or the mask?” I ask as we pick up the boys and the over bloated diaper bag.

  “Both.” He bounces Barron over his hip. “You ready to rock this party, boys? I hear there are some hot chicks just waiting to check you out.”

  Nathan gurgles out one of his signature husky laughs and claps up a storm, but Barron looks perturbed by the idea. Gage and I share a laugh of our own as we head on in.

  Demetri’s monstrosity of a home is grand in nature all on its own, but on a night like tonight, where all the stops have been pulled, there’s something regal about it the likes of which Paragon have never seen before. I can hear the music pouring out from every orifice the overgrown house has to offer, and it’s merry and light, and my God, is that a full orchestra I hear?

  A man in a white curly wig and odd revolutionary sort of garb nods as he opens the door and lets us inside. Something about him gives off that old-world appeal, and he looks straight out of the seventeenth century, and well, he just might be. The foyer opens up, cavernous and breathtaking, with its crystal chandelier the size of a mid-sized sedan glittering far more than usual. The lights are dimmed just enough to display the bodies milling in the distance, rife with laughter, but that’s not all that has my eyes set wide with surprise.

  “Oh God, they’re here,” I hiss to Gage as an entire herd of vellum creatures—transl
ucent once-upon-a-people—swirl about, laughing and chatting away a mile a minute in their full petticoats, the gentlemen in their rag tag suits, with their bow ties as thin as spaghetti. None of them seem to mind too much that we can see the walls right through their bodies as they float around like a slippery film, more of an idea than a human concept.

  “Cool,” Gage says it flat. “Looks like Gramps pulled a few ghosts out of his closet.”

  “Skeletons to follow.”

  Gage leads us to the grand room, and a body blocks our path before we can enter.

  “Ingram!” I can’t help but brighten at the sight of my favorite curator of Tenebrous—the only curator, but still. “Nice to see you out and about!” I offer an impromptu hug. He looks dapper himself with his hair slicked back, a neat tuxedo, and his face looks a touch less pasty out in this cobalt light. The entire grand room is bathed in blue.