Celestra Forever After

by Addison Moore

  “She winked!” Mom marvels. “I swear she just winked at you, Skyla.” Mom coos into her little bundle of questionable Fem joy. “Isn’t she the sweetest?”

  She’s something.

  Holy crap.

  I step away from the two of them, slowly picking up my backpack off the floor without looking.

  “Have a great first day at school!” Mom waves as I speed out the door. “Have lots of fun! Take life by the horns, and make it give you what you want!”

  “Oh, I will,” I shout back as I shut the door behind me.

  I bet she had lots of fun right around this time last year. I bet she took a Fem by the horn and made him give her exactly what she wanted—a baby.

  I jump into the Mustang and burn rubber all the way to my favorite Levatio’s house.

  Only Gage can wash away the image of my mother and Demetri going at it.

  Speaking of going at it.

  Maybe it’s time Gage and I did just that.

  Gage

  Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.

  My back pinches as my elbows give way to the pain, landing me face first into the hardwood floor of my bedroom.

  So much for hitting a hundred push-ups before breakfast.

  Shit.

  I sit up and twist my neck from side to side. It’s been killing me for the past few weeks ever since I was blindsided with that tackle. And I’m still plenty pissed at the idiot who thought it was a good idea to put me in a chokehold while my body was still twisting on the ground.

  First game is next Friday against Washington, and I’d better get my act together. I’m so stiff, my head might snap off with one good hit.

  I catch my face in the mirror as I swipe a pair of boxers from the dresser. Every now and again, when I catch my reflection just right, I think I’m seeing that idiot from the Ephemeral Academy—Wesley. That he’s somehow appeared in my room, and I’m going to have to kick the shit out of him for trespassing, but it’s not him. The whole thing still doesn’t sit well with me. The fact there’s another person on the planet wearing my face, makes me more than a little uneasy. If I was anyone else, hell, if I were one hundred percent human, I might think it was just some freaky coincidence. But I know better, there’s no such thing as a coincidence, and I want to know why the hell Wesley Parker—Paxton—is haunting the other side of the country with my face.

  I hit the shower and get dressed before heading downstairs. Skyla texted and said she was on her way, so I expect to see her when I hit the bottom of the stairs, but there’s no sign of her yet—just Mom and Dad in the kitchen. Someone else is missing, too, and my heart sinks a little. Even though it’s been months, I still can’t get used to the house without Logan in it. He said he wouldn’t be back until Skyla and I had a chance to establish ourselves as a couple, but, the truth is, we’ve been too busy grieving his sorry ass to even think of cementing our relationship. I think I’m ready, though. I’m craving Skyla both in and out of my wet dreams. It’s gotten so bad, I’m downright shaking around her.

  “Morning.” It comes out a little grumpier than anticipated. Going to bed at three in the morning will do that to a person.

  “Good morning!” They sing back in unison, my mother from the stove while working on the world’s tallest tower of pancakes, and my father from the table, neatly tucked behind his newspaper. I think he’s reading the last edition. Then again I say that every morning about the paper relic.

  “Another rough night of sleep?” Dad’s dark-framed glasses slide to the tip of his nose. He’s already in his business attire, his hair neatly combed back for another day at the morgue. He’s owned and operated the Paragon Mortuary and Cemetery since I was an infant.

  “You guessed it.” I plop into a chair just as Mom sets down a glass of fresh squeezed O.J. She’s been pampering me a little more than usual since Logan left. We’re all ready for him to come back. Each day we seem to grieve him a little bit more.

  “Why don’t you see that chiropractor I’ve been telling you about?” Mom moves the pancakes to the table along with the butter and syrup at lightning speed. She has her auburn hair pulled back, tight in a bun. She over-dyed it a strange magenta shade last month, and since then she’s been every variation of pumpkin trying to correct it. “His son is at the preschool, and every mother on this island has been faking an injury just to be near him.” Mom runs the biggest daycare center on the island and is in the know about every family in attendance. “He may be quite the looker, but, apparently, he’s also very good at what he does.” She leans toward the window and squints. “What’s she doing here?”

  She is most likely Skyla. Mom seems to be a little uneasy around her because she thinks we’re going at it, hot and heavy, in our free time, but nothing could be further from the truth.

  I hop up and open the door for her.

  “Hey, you!” Skyla jumps up and wraps herself around me, easy as twine, and my neck tweaks. I hold back the groan that’s begging to rip out of my chest. I’ll take all the pain my neck wants to give so long as I can have Skyla’s body over mine.

  “Look at you.” I pull back and take her in head to toe. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She’s dressed a little more sophisticated than I’m used to, and my balls wrench because, holy hell, they approve. “You look hot.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do.” I sink a kiss over her lips. “You’ve got that whole sexy librarian thing going on.”

  “Librarian?” A mild look of panic crosses her face.

  “Have I ever told you, I’ve always had a thing for librarians?”

  “Well, in that case.” She bats her lashes, and my dick gets ready to wag in her direction. “It looks like I dressed to impress the right person.” She bites down on a smile before crashing her lips over mine.

  “Skyla is that you?” Mom sings from behind, and we part ways as if kissing were illegal in all fifty states. And I have a feeling it would be if my mother had anything to say about it. “Did you need something?” Her eyes round out. “I thought Gage was picking you up? We were in the middle of breakfast.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Skyla brings her fingers to her lips. “That was rude of me to just invite myself over like that. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Stop,” I say just above a whisper. “You never need an invitation.” I press a quick kiss over her lips to assure her of just that. “Come in. I’ll share my pancakes with you.”

  Skyla and I head to the table while Mom lands another plate in front of us with a notable clatter.

  “Hi, Dr. O.” Skyla smiles sweetly over at him. “So where’s, Giselle?” She looks around as if my sister might be in the kitchen somewhere.

  “She sleeps until noon.” Mom gives a disapproving look to Dad. “She’s out until all hours of the night with that Harrison boy.” She says Harrison like it’s a dirty word. And, knowing Ellis, it probably is. He and my sister have had a “thing” for the last few months. I’m watching that douche. One wrong move and I’ll rip his balls off. Ellis is a pretty cool guy, but, in truth, I liked him a little more when he was just some stoner who lives across the street and wasn’t interested in my sister.

  Dad straightens his paper. “She has another week until school starts. No use in cracking down during her final week of summer.”

  It’s weird knowing that Giselle, who was technically dead up until this year, will be attending West Paragon, and here Skyla and I just graduated. I miss those high school days already. I miss a lot of things—people. Of course, the world thinks my sister is Emerson Kragger because that’s the body Skyla was able to gift her, but, between family and friends, she’s still Giselle. She’s been splitting her time between here and the Kraggers. At first it was to keep up the act with Arson Kragger, Emerson’s father, but, in truth, I’m thinking Giselle likes the freedom she has there. Mom can be a bit overbearing at times.

  “So tell me, Skyla”—Mom starts while plating my father a stack three high—“Gage
says you’re commuting to Host. Are you comfortable with that?”

  “Oh, yes.” Skyla nods. “Mom and Tad could never afford to get me a dorm, and I don’t mind taking the ferry one bit.”

  Mom is a little miffed because I decided to forgo the dorm for the first couple weeks to help Skyla get into the swing of things.

  Mom leans in. “Please assure my son that you are a grown woman, and you don’t need him holding your hand on the way to school each day. It’s the twenty-first century for God’s sake, and a strong girl such as yourself is fully capable of taking the ferry each way without getting lost in the process.”

  “I don’t mind.” I cut a hard look to Mom that says this conversation ends right here. Crap. She’s going to make Skyla feel bad, and it’s the last thing I want.

  “You’re right,” Skyla nods over to Mom while reaching for my hand under the table. “It is the twenty-first century. But, in all honesty, I sort of like Gage holding my hand.” She gives my fingers a squeeze. “And if that’s wrong”—she tilts into me—“I don’t want to be right.”

  Dad smiles peaceably over at the two of us while Mom’s eyes widen like saucers.

  Good job. I rub my thumb over her palm. It’s kind of nice knowing that Skyla can hear my thoughts when we touch, or, more to the point, when I take down the wall and let her in—I almost always do. As for me, I’ve got the wrong bloodlines to pull off anything short of telepathy, not one trace of Celestra. My Levatio standing affords me speed, strength, teleportation, levitation, and, my favorite—the gift of knowing. Although at times that last one has been more of a curse than a blessing.

  “I think it’s chivalrous of you to be with her during this time of transition.” Dad gives an approving nod. “When do you think you’ll be back?” His mood shifts to something a little more serious, which usually means there’s something he needs me to take care of.

  “Six, seven? I don’t know. We’ve got books to buy, and I’ve got practice.” Not to mention the fact I plan on taking Skyla out for a nice dinner. I think it’s time we come into our own once again. At the least, I want to talk to her about how she’s doing. I know losing Logan was hard on Skyla. As tough as it was on me, I think she had it a little bit worse.

  “Stop by the morgue some time this week.” He gives a curt nod. “I’ve something to show you. Ezrina introduced me to a new embalming fluid that takes half as long to administer and keeps the corpse perfectly preserved for at least a thousand years.”

  Ezrina might be running around in Chloe’s old body, but she’s got her scientific mad mind intact, one hundred percent.

  “Interesting.” I fake enthusiasm for the sake of avoiding another lecture on the profitability potential of the funeral home business. “I think I will stop by and check that out sometime.” Dad has been after me to consider partnering with him, but, all in all, I’ve pretty much surmised it’s a dead-end job, no pun intended. I shoot a look over to Skyla. “You ready to do this?”

  “I’m ready if you are.”

  And with that we hop in my truck, away from my father’s talk of morgue mergers and my mother’s talk of questionable forms of chivalry.

  I hate to break it to my father, but I’m not too interested in building my future on the dead—I’m pretty sure I want to hang out with a few warm bodies for a good long while. And I hate to break it to my mother, but I plan on loving Skyla any way I damn well please—sacrificing far more than my dorm room for her.

  We drive down the slick roads of Paragon with our hands still interlaced. I never want to let go of Skyla.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  Skyla and I grab some coffee before parking in the clearing near the docks. I lower the tailgate and help her take a seat before hopping up next to her. It’s heaven like this with Skyla, just the two of us tucked away at the foot of the forest. It’s bliss just hanging out, watching Mother Nature rouse from her slumber, sleepy-eyed, as the pines stretch their limbs high to the sky. A crow screams overhead as it darts into the woods, and it makes me think of Nevermore. He was mine once, then I gifted him to Skyla as the ultimate show of love, at least it was for the sixteen-year-old in me. And now here we are two years later, and I’d like nothing more than to gift her the ultimate show of love with my body. I’d die to love Skyla that way, but only when she’s ready.

  “I thought maybe we could grab a bite tonight.” I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her in. “That way you can tell me all about your first day.” Skyla and I only managed to get one class together—U.S. History.

  “That sounds great. I think I promised Mia coffee at some point, but I’d much rather have dinner with you.” Her arms swim around my waist as she peels a heated kiss off my lips.

  “How about you do both? I’d feel bad if I got in the way of any plans you have with your sister.”

  She glances down and nods. “You know what I’m sort of feeling bad about?”

  “The fact I practically ran you out of the house before you could finish my mother’s gourmet pancakes?” It’s true. I doubt she got a solid bite in. Forget dinner, I owe her breakfast, too.

  “No, not that.” She gets a look on her face like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Skyla lands those pale blue eyes over mine, and I melt into her. I want to pull her deep into the bed of my truck and take her right here just shy of the Paragon Harbor parking lot. “The fact that I’ve been holding you off at an arm’s length.”

  “What?” I tick my head back an inch. “If you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder, you’ve been doing a lousy job.”

  She pushes in with another kiss, and this time her tongue swims around my mouth as if to prove my point. Skyla hasn’t exactly been holding back in the lip-lock department. If anything, she’s been more than generous with her kisses.

  Skyla quakes with a laugh. Her entire body trembles, and I take in her sweet vibrations.

  “Well, I have. Maybe not the cold shoulder, but you know.” She digs her fingers into my sides and runs her tongue over her lips as if she’s flirting. “But I think I’m ready.” Her features soften. Her mood grows all together serious. “I think I’m ready for me and you again.” She picks up my hand and threads our fingers together without ever breaking our gaze. “I think I’m ready for everything you can give me, Gage.” Her eyes moisten with tears. “I’m going to talk to my mom.” She glances up, alluding to the fact it’s Candace she’s referring to—her long-dead mother that runs the Decision Council, a version of fate on steroids. “There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you alive.” Her eyes fill with tears. “You won’t die. I can’t go through what I did with Logan ever again. It’s too painful.”

  “Whoa. I’m not going anywhere.” Yet—but I leave that part out.

  “I love you so damn much, it hurts just to catch my next breath. I feel really bad knowing that I’ve held things off with you for so long.”

  I pull her in and plant a kiss on the top of her head. “You and I both agreed to give it time, so don’t worry about it. But if you feel ready to pick up where we left off, then I’m right there with you.”

  “No.” She shakes her head, solemn as stone. “I’m not ready to pick up where we left off.” Her lips curl just shy of a wicked smile. She bears into me with a magnetic pull, seductive and carnal—and, holy hell, she’s eye-fucking me. “I’m ready to take things a whole lot further.”

  I lean back and examine her under the dismal Paragon sky.

  My heart thumps. “If you’re ready, I’m ready.”

  Her face breaks out in a full-blown grin. “I like the sound of that, Gage.”

  “So do I.” So do fucking I.

  I crash my lips over hers, and we engage in one hell of a welcome-to-the-next-level-of-our-relationship kiss. I’ve always known I’d be with Skyla one day. I knew it years before I ever met her thanks to those prophecies that almost drove me to the brink of insanity. And to think I once doubted them, and yet, here we are.

  Skyla and I are together
at last, just the way it was foretold.

  Just the way it should be.

  I love Skyla so damn much it hurts just to catch my next breath.

  And it’s kind of nice to know she feels the very same way.

  Logan

  The sky glows a rusted cinder. The pines etch themselves against the landscape like petrified soldiers as if God, himself, had called them to look after the residents of Paragon.

  “So where are we?” Liam glances around, aloof and removed per usual. To say he’s laidback would be an understatement.

  “Paragon.”

  Liam is built and fit, and in every way appears to be a slight variation of myself. He looks about my age, a little over nineteen. I’m not too sure how old he really is—hell, how old I really should be. I gave up on keeping track of our ages and stages long ago. He’s the one who went back in time and sacrificed his life for mine. I was Mom’s late-in-life surprise, then the Counts came and arranged for our parents to die in a fiery car crash. I survived with severe burns that I had to deal with my entire life, until fate stepped in, renewed me as an infant, and sent me to Paragon to live with my brother, Barron. It turns out destiny needed me at another point in time, for someone else entirely, and that someone was Skyla Messenger.

  “So this is home, huh?” He takes a few steps over the damp Paragon soil.

  It was Liam who sacrificed his life to get me here in the first place. It’s a soul for a soul, and he gave up his life so I could live out a second version of mine. And now that I’m dead, locked in this semi-state of being known as a Treble, I made it a point to arrange for him to get one, too—sort of my attempt to thank him for all he’s done. Not that a Treble can ever replace his life. It’s just a frozen state of being that leaves you nothing more than a visitor. I’m not sure he’ll ever age. I know for a fact I come back and marry Skyla at some point, but Liam is most likely going to be a young stud for the rest of his days. You can’t age naturally in a Treble.