Celestra Forever After

by Addison Moore

  Barron waves his hand. “Something to do with removing genetic markers.”

  “Removing genetic markers?” I look to Liam.

  “Maybe he wants to convince his ex that’s he’s a changed man.” Liam bites the steak off his fork and chews wildly. “Physically speaking, not a Count or a Fem.”

  I shake my head. “Doesn’t make sense. Laken is done with him. Any idiot can see that. Besides he is a Fem. He’s lower than a snake on the ground.” He’s lucky Bishop is there to morph into anyone he pleases.

  “A Fem.” Emma closes her eyes a moment too long. “Excuse me, but why would a Fem have morphed into Gage’s likeness?” She dives for her glass before pouring water down her throat. It’s obvious I’ve just rattled Emma, and, now, I feel like a piece of crap for bringing it up.

  “To get into Skyla’s pants.” Liam deadpans.

  Of course.

  Oh shit.

  Barron and I exchange a quick look.

  But Skyla would know the difference, wouldn’t she?

  Something’s not right. Wes has spent his whole life walking around with those dimples, that dark head of hair. He’s two years older than Gage.

  Wait a minute.

  What if…

  Oh fuck.

  8

  Smooth Operator

  Skyla

  Before my eyelids ever open, I feel his body in mine, moving, writhing over me smooth and easy. I let out a groan as I struggle to rouse. It’s bliss like this with Gage. Waking with him by my side, over me, his lips peppering my face with early morning kisses. I pry my lids open and give a sleepy grin just as his fingers dip down to my erogenous zone and work their magic. The framing of his face looks slightly unfamiliar, his black locks traded for warm honey. My lids spring wide. My hands fly to his chest as Marshall pants over me with a lazy smile blooming on his lips.

  “Marshall!” I sit up and smack Gage in the face with a crisp morning slap. “Oh, it’s you!” I touch my hand to my chest. “Thank God.” I pull him back into me with a violent yank.

  “If you’re trying to kill my hard-on, you’re doing a great job.” He laughs through his kiss. I’ve filled Gage in on the nightmares I’ve been having about Marshall. Well, I’ve sort of filled him in. I let him know I was being chased by the naughty Sector. I might have left out the part where he speared me with his penis sword time and time again. Some things should never be spoken.

  “Let’s see if I can’t bring it back to life,” I tease, pulling him in close while cinching my legs around him.

  “What do you know?” His chest rumbles with a laugh. “I never lost it.” Gage pushes into me gently. We resurrect the morning with a frenzied rapture that has nothing to do with Marshall and everything to do with Gage and his perfect body molding to mine, raking over me in a fit of passion that leaves the butterfly room in flames.

  An hour later we race to the dock where we watch the early ferry leave without us which causes me to be a few minutes late for the class I have with none other than the penis sword wielder himself. I take my seat next to Laken and spend the next several minutes shooting Marshall the stink eye. It was one thing to have him defiling me nightly when I was quasi-single, but now that I’m Mrs. Gage Oliver, it feels fifty shades of wrong. He was a no-show Monday and Wednesday so his T.A. force-fed us a dry lecture. If he wasn’t here today I would have sought him out to make sure Chloe hadn’t nailed him to a tree at West. I would have checked on him earlier, but, in truth, I wasn’t in a hurry to let Marshall in on my matrimonial secret.

  I glance over at Laken who’s contently jotting down notes. It’s been killing me all week not to say a word to anyone. I’m sure Laken would be more than happy for me if she knew, and I’m pretty sure she’d be the last person to rat me out to my mother or Emma, so I go for it.

  I lean in and whisper, “Gage and I eloped.”

  “Skyla!” She pulls back, her eyes wide with surprise. “Congratulations!”

  We share our restrained enthusiasm a moment. I had to tell somebody. I’m just bursting at the seams. It’s as if I found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and I can’t share the riches with my family and friends like I want to.

  After a long, droning hour slugs by, the class wraps up, and Marshall glares in my direction.

  “Ms. Messenger—may I see you a moment?”

  “He doesn’t look happy.” Laken studies him with suspicion. I’d better fill her in on my bizarre relationship with Professor Dudley before she accidentally involves the authorities.

  “He’s harmless. Trust me.” He’s still glaring, totally not helping the cause. “I’ll just be a second.”

  I trot over to my spirit spouse, fully ready and willing to tell him about the real deal. I’ve got a shiny new covenant, and I’m not afraid to flaunt it.

  “You wed Jock Strap.” His eyes meet mine. A fine oscillating rhythm takes over, and my vision begins to wobble.

  “God, you’re sending your vibrations right through my eyes,” I marvel. “Are you that pissed?”

  “No.” He averts his gaze a moment. “I’m not angry with you, Skyla. I knew this was coming. But something additional has occurred, something that cannot be revoked in any manner with the exception of death.”

  “I know all about that ‘til death do us part stuff although, technically, I don’t remember hearing it.”

  “It doesn’t matter, those are the bylaws of the covenant.” He leans in, his brows peaking in the center. “Don’t you see? Death is our only hope now—there’s no escaping this matrimony without it.”

  “What the heck are you babbling about? I’m not hoping for death—quite the opposite.” I gently take hold of his arm. “Marshall, please don’t hate Gage. It’s hard for me to hear you say these things. I’m in love with him.” I glance around before leaning in and whispering, “He’s my husband now. What we have is real and everlasting. Besides, I’ve already made up my mind. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep him alive as long as possible. I hate death. What I went through with Logan was the worst feeling in the world. I’m not strong enough to do that again.”

  “You must and you will.” He snaps his briefcase shut, staring down at the burgundy leather as if he were about to set it on fire with the rage percolating in his eyes. “Skyla, we’ve been infiltrated. Once it comes to light what’s happened”—he straightens, losing his gaze out the window at the rolling thick lawns—“I’ll be here for you. I vow to see you through this.”

  My heart thumps into my throat.

  “See me through what?”

  The muscles in his jaw pop as he zips out the door in a fury, his large, boxy frame, striding farther away as if he had a mission to fulfill, and there was no room for delay.

  Truthfully, I don’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I do know that it must be hard for him now that I’m with Gage—in every intimate way imaginable. I’m sorry I hurt him. More than anything I would never want to bring Marshall an ounce of pain.

  I speed out into the thick, blooming fog. It’s as if white-feathered plumes had erupted all over campus after a celestial pillow fight. Laken is nowhere to be seen. I’m sure she’s off to her next class, but there’s still so much more I want to tell her.

  Marshall’s psychobabble replays in my mind. What did he mean by infiltrated? It almost sounded sexual. But, then again, everything sounds deliciously sexual these days. Gage bristles to the surface of my mind, our bodies moving in time, those heated kisses—and a tiny giggle bubbles in my chest.

  A thought comes to me, and I straighten. Maybe I should have Marshall lay out the parameters of our spiritual nuptials? Maybe his mind has been infiltrated with unwanted visions of Gage and me going at it? No wonder he’s so violently pissed at my new husband. He’s seen the package Gage is sporting and now is forced to alter his nickname to double-extra-large Jock Strap. Really, he’s inhuman in every way possible.

  A dark-haired boy with a familiar frame bumps into me from nowhere, an
d everything in me warms at the sight of him.

  “Thank God, you’re here!” I snatch Gage and pull him behind the Student Union. “This morning has been a real mind fuck—excuse my French.” I try to shake all thoughts of Marshall and his warped sense of humor out of my mind. “You know what I really need?” I pull him deeper into the shadows and then start in with my assault. I land my lips hard over his and ride my leg up his thigh.

  “Skyla, wait.” He pushes me back with a laugh buried in his throat.

  “That’s the point. We’re married now. We’re done waiting, remember?” I jam my tongue so far down his throat, he gives a hard groan.

  Skyla! He turns his face, and I use my Celestra strength to snatch him by the chin and meet my lips again. Gage holds the scent of a stronger cologne than I’m used to him wearing, musk with a sharp bite of pine, and I can’t decide whether or not I like it.

  “God, I love it when you struggle.” I’m sure that’s all kinds of twisted, but, holy hell, it’s hot. I don’t know what kind of newly imparted moral code Gage has against making out on campus. It’s been our MO ever since we arrived at Host—hell, while we were at West, but—

  “I don’t know about his moral code either.” He turns his head, and I pepper kisses all the way down his neck. “Why don’t you go ask him?”

  I give a dull laugh, slipping my hand down the back of his jeans.

  “A little role play, huh?” It looks like I get another shot at being the home-wrecking whore.

  “Skyla, I’m not Gage. It’s me, Wes.”

  Gah! I jump back like leaping out of a fire. The only home-wreaking whore around here is him. Only he wasn’t actually instigating anything.

  Just crap.

  I don’t know what’s worse, kissing Wes, or having to confess it to Gage later.

  “Congratulations on your wedding.” His eyes ride over me, tired and slow. “It must feel pretty great to be with the person you love.”

  A tiny part of me hurts for Wes, but then I remember he’s wicked and that Laken gave him the finger for a good reason.

  I take him in. Wes is downright regal—his face an exact replica of the man I love. Dear God. I shake my head. The evergreens move lethargic behind him, submerged in the fog just enough to make them look like a dream. For whatever reason this moment is imprinting itself in my mind. Other than the color of his eyes he’s my Gage, and this rattles me, tosses my sanity around like those maple leaves doing cartwheels over the lawn.

  “It didn’t have to be like this,” I whisper. Laken made it clear that night on Rockaway why she’s no longer with him. “Wes, you chose the Counts over love.” He made it easy for her. But Cooper is a great guy, and if I had anything to do with destiny, I’d pair her with Coop every single time.

  “I had a higher calling, Skyla.” He takes a step forward and bears into me with those ivy-green eyes. “If you had to choose between the greater good of Celestra or loving someone, what would you do?” He starts to walk away. “Your life has changed, Skyla. But not in the traditional way that marriage changes you. You chose love, Skyla. You made the decision Laken wasn’t able to.” He disappears into the fog, melting right along with it.

  Of course, I’d choose the greater good of Celestra, but that’s a decision I’ll never have to make. Gage loves Celestra as much as I do. Choosing love was easy for me.

  I shake my head in his wake. If anything, Wes and Chloe are the perfect pairing, and it makes me sick to my stomach that she’s “trapped” for all eternity with a Gage lookalike of all people. What the hell is wrong with my mother, anyway? What kind of punishment does Chloe truly have if she’s teaching cheer on Paragon? Sleeping with fake Gage, night after night, in the Transfer?

  I glance up at the strawberry pink sky, the clouds heavy, pregnant with our next storm.

  “We need to talk, Mother. Do you hear me?”

  A crackle of lavender lightning goes off in a spiral, right over campus, causing a group of girls to scream in the distance.

  “Sooner than later,” I say, making my way to my next class.

  Something is definitely off.

  Marshall seems to know. Chloe knows, too. Wes just spoke in a circle, so I’m betting he knows, as well.

  I’m damn sure my mother knows.

  And, in keeping with tradition, I’ll be the last to know anything.

  The sky churns a fiery red, angry yet sultry, as if it were about to rip open with a viral passion that mankind has never witnessed before. It’s sunset on Host—if there were such a thing as the sun in our part of the world. I know somewhere behind this thick veil of clouds that a giant ball of gas hides like a coward, like some salted truth everyone seems to be holding from me.

  The game is just about to begin as Brielle and I make our way onto the field.

  “Oh, look, there’s Em!” Brielle points to the sidelines where Emily is yapping it up with the coach. “She’s talking to her dad.”

  “Her dad is the coach?”

  “Yup. Her mom does something here, too. I forget what. Em’s whole family practically runs the school.”

  “Oh, so that’s where the dragon’s head mounted above their fireplace comes from. It’s the mascot.” I hold back a laugh. “And here I thought they were part of some odd, freaky cult.”

  Bree pulls back. “You don’t know anything about Host or Em’s family, do you?”

  The giant dragon painted on the side of the stadium catches my eye. He’s lit up an eerie blue. His eyes illuminate with oversized red bulbs that glow in the night like terrible warnings, homages to his name—Omen.

  “So there is something,” I whisper.

  “Skyla!” Gage calls from the field.

  “Go on.” Brielle gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I see Laken over there.” She rolls her eyes. “We’ll save you a spot.”

  I run over to Gage with his shoulders spread wide as wings, and my stomach clenches with heat at the sight of him. His uniform is white just like the one he wore at West. And I still can’t get over that unlucky 13 scrawled on his back. I want to rip it off and reverse the numbers, but right above it is spelled out Oliver, the most perfect surname in all of history, so I can almost forgive the jersey. My wedding dates run through my mind. It’s funny because those don’t feel unlucky at all. I guess 13 is just a number, and, for me, it happens to be damn lucky.

  “I know you.” I wrap my arms around him and bump my fingers across the sticky lettering over his back. My favorite letters all in a row. “I love you,” I whisper, examining him here in the shadows. A thick black line lies under each of his eyes, making his cobalt beams that much brighter. “You’re so damn hot.” I slip my hand up his shirt. “I can’t wait to do a little cheer for you in private.” In fact, I think I’ll put on my West uniform and surprise him with just that.

  “I love you, too.” He melts a juicy kiss over my lips. “And I’m going to hold you to that cheer. In fact, I can’t wait.” His dimples dig in one last time before he takes off.

  The cheerleaders run out on the field, and one of them tackle hugs Gage.

  “Excuse me?” I lean in for a better look at who this dark-haired skank might be. Kresley. I shake my head. “In Emma’s dreams,” I whisper. I’ll have to make it clear as crystal to this Kresley chick that Gage is officially off the market, but, with my luck, she’ll blab it all to Emma, and then my mother will find out the entirely wrong way.

  Crap.

  It looks like we’ll have to fill our families in on the good news sooner than we hoped. I was really starting to enjoy our little secret. It was as if we were able to have a honeymoon right in the open without the prying imaginations of my sisters and the onionskin walls at the Landon house. Gage has spent the night with me up in the butterfly room for the last solid week. We’ve morphed into a thing of beauty, startled by our magnificence, electric and bold just like those butterflies pinned to the walls.

  I head up into the stands and nestle myself between Laken and Brielle. They look tense
, unhappy. Laken looks either scared or pissed—knowing Bree, it’s probably a safe combination of both.

  “What’s up?” I pull out my phone and get the camera ready to zoom in on Gage.

  “Nothing.” Brielle looks more than mildly guilty, so I know it’s definitely something.

  “Brielle was just filling me in on all of the awesome things you’ve done together.” Laken says the word awesome as if she were mocking Bree, but under the radar, so only I would notice.

  Crap. It’s like Brielle is threatened by Laken for no apparent reason. Well, other than the fact Brielle is my one and only close friend. I’m sure seeing me hang out with Laken is setting off all kinds of BFF alarms, and I get it. I’ll have to reassure Bree she’s still my girl once the game is through.

  “So how does it feel?” Laken wrinkles her nose. “You know, being a married woman.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brielle belts out a laugh. “Skyla isn’t married. If she was, I’d not only be the first to know, but I’d be right there next to her as the maid of honor—we’re that close.” She shoots Laken an icy look before training her attention back on the field.

  Oh crap.

  “You’re right—you would be the first to know, and you would be my maid of honor.” I swallow hard. “Unless of course, it all happened so fast that I never had a chance to tell you.” I sink a little in my seat. “I may have unexpectedly eloped.” I wince into her. “And I may have let the good news slip to Laken this morning in class because I was about to explode if I didn’t tell somebody.”

  Bree’s face bleaches out under the harsh supervision of the floodlights. Her mouth falls open, and her features sag, giving her that overall corpse effect.

  “Is it because I’m a Count, Skyla? Is that why you treat me so poorly?”

  I smack Bree in the arm. “Stop with the pity party. You know I’ll always love you. Besides, Laken is a Count, and I don’t hold it against either one of you. If anything, I love you more because it just goes to prove that Counts and Celestra can get along.” I lean over and pull her into a long, deep hug. “You keep me sane. Thank you for that.”