Celestra Forever After

by Addison Moore

  “I’m here to stay, Skyla.” He wipes the tears from my cheek. “Please don’t be sad. I can’t bear it.” He glances down at the protective hedge, the mirrored heart dangling from my neck and cradles them in his palm a moment.

  “I’m not sad.” I lay my hand over his, and he gives it a brief kiss before returning it to my side. My body shakes just being this close to him. I dig my nails into my bare thighs in an effort not to touch him again. A stunted silence takes over, and my gaze falls to the floor.

  “I know you, Skyla.” Logan gently lifts me by the chin. His eyes press into mine, and it feels intensely intimate. We’re loving each other in the most primal way right here with our eyes. “I know all of your kisses, all of your smiles, your frowns. I can decipher every sigh that blows from your lips—you must know that I love you.”

  I give a quick nod, forcing my eyes to focus on his shoes. A lone tear falls to the floor with an unceremonious splat. He tucks his finger under my chin once again and lifts me until we’re eye to eye.

  “Skyla”—he breathes my name like a dream—“don’t cry for tomorrow when you have today.”

  I grab a hold of his hand once again and shed a weak smile.

  “You always know what to say, Logan.” I offer another heartfelt hug, so hard, so tight I’m about to break all our bones in the process. “I’m really glad you’re back.” I pull away and take him in again. His gorgeous features are clouded with a patina of sadness, and it hurts my heart to see it.

  “I’m glad to be back.” His brows arch slightly amused as he looks me over. “You look great.”

  I give a nervous glance at my cheer uniform. Shoot.

  “Oh, I was just…”

  “It’s okay. I’m heading back to Dudley’s.” He holds up his hands. His expression darkens. “Congratulations, Skyla.” His eyes search my face. “I’m really happy for you and Gage.”

  There’s something distant in his eyes as if he’s withholding something from me.

  Happy for me, huh?

  Something tells me he’s not.

  Gage

  Skyla gives a light knock on the door about an hour after our run in with my mom. It’s pretty clear she’s not going to approve of Skyla and me shacking up here until we’re on our feet. Maybe if she knew we were married? I bet that would make her feel a lot better about Skyla in general.

  “Close your eyes,” Skyla whispers, and I do. She enters the room, and I hear the click of the lock once she shuts the door. “Okay.” A floral scented breeze washes over me. “Open.”

  Skyla stands there with her hands above her head, her cheer uniform from West on, and holy shit—my hard-on just sprung to life from nowhere.

  She hops up and down and pumps her fist skyward. “Give me a G-A-G-E, what do you get?” She skips forward and lands a kiss on my lips. “My husband.”

  “Nice move Messen—Oliver.” I give a lopsided grin at my quick correction as I pull her into the bed beside me. Skyla leans over switches off the lights.

  A hard knock erupts at the door. “Gage?”

  “Crap, it’s Emma,” Skyla whimpers.

  “I got this.”

  I flick back on the lights, and Skyla jumps out of my bed, doing her best to flatten her skirt. Damn she looks good. Was that skirt always that short?

  I head over and open the door a few inches. “What’s up?” I do my best to sound beat, but, the truth is, Skyla just helped me catch my second wind.

  “I thought I heard screaming.” She cranes her neck in through the door and scowls. “Everything all right?”

  “It’s fine. Skyla was just going over some cheers. Her sister made the team at West.” That made no sense whatsoever, and I don’t really care at this point. It sucks that Mom is so against Skyla being in my room, but I get it.

  “Well”—she struggles to look over my shoulder—“I’ll be up for a little while. I’ve got a few shows I’ve been meaning to catch up on. Goodnight you two.” She glares at me as if telling me to keep it in my pants. “Between you and me”—she leans in and whispers—“I think you’re all better. There’s no need to baby you any longer.” She takes off down the hall.

  “Got it.”

  “No need to baby you?” Skyla gives a gurgle of a laugh while curling me in with her finger. “I beg to differ.”

  I lock the door and head back to bed.

  “I think you know exactly what I need.”

  Skyla knocks me back onto the mattress and climbs on top of me until she’s sitting on my waist.

  “Best part?” She raises her skirt just enough for me to see that dark triangle calling to me. “Easy access.”

  “I’m suddenly feeling overdressed.”

  “I’m feeling overexposed.” She leans over to turn off the light, and I catch her by the wrist.

  “I kind of like the overexposed part.”

  “Okay.” Her lips twist to the side in that cute way only Skyla seems able to do. “But I’m not taking anything off.”

  I ride my gaze up and down her sexier-than-hell cheer uniform. “I’ll let it slide just this once.”

  “Just this once, huh?” She gives my sweats a tug. “Well, I’m not letting anything slide.” She bites down on her lip. “Everything off, Oliver—right now.”

  “You want it off?” I let my smile dissipate.

  “Pretty please with a cherry on top.” Her hips rock over mine when she says cherry.

  My fingers hedge up her thighs, slowly, like crawling up a building.

  “Ditch the stitches, Oliver.”

  With lightning precision, I strip off my clothes, and before I know it, Skyla is siting over me with nothing but her heated flesh touching mine.

  “That feels good.” I slip my finger to the edge of her skirt and gently flip it over. “Looks like you forgot something.”

  “You complaining?” She grinds over me, and my dick grazes up over her bottom.

  “No ma’am.” I reach over to the nightstand and pluck a condom out of the drawer. “Come here.” I roll her gently onto her back. Skyla’s hair falls around her like a golden wreath. Skyla is an angel in every sense of the word.

  “I had a chance to hold Misty tonight.” She glances down. It’s obvious she misses her family. “You know, she looks a lot like I’d imagine our kids will look one day.”

  I pause for a moment from rolling on the rubber.

  “Ember, too,” she says as I lie down over her. “It made me think of how sweet it’s going to be, Gage. Of course, I want to finish college, but then, if it’s all right with you, I’d love to start a family—one child at a time until we’ve amassed an entire tribe.” She giggles as if she were drunk. “I can’t believe we get to make a person simply by loving the hell out of each other.” She reaches up and strokes the stubble on my cheek.

  “I think that’s pretty amazing.” I swallow hard and put my thoughts on lockdown. This just got tough. I’ve tried my best to push all that Fem bullshit out of my head today. It can’t be true. I won’t let it. I land a tender kiss just under her ear before reaching over and flicking off the lights. There’s no way I’ll be able to hide the grief on my face for another moment.

  “Hey”—she gives my ribs a quick pinch—“I thought this was a ‘lights on’ kind of a night.”

  I moan into her as I bury a kiss in her ear. “How about we save it for another time? I think my mother’s on the prowl.” I press a hard kiss over lips and linger. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our future today, too. Now that I can’t play football, I should probably find something else to focus on—like taking over the morgue.”

  Skyla runs her fingers through my hair. “Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t know.” As long as I’m nowhere near related to Demetri, I’m fine with hanging out with a bunch of stiffs eight hours a day.

  “How about writing?” She brightens at the thought.

  A smile brims on my lips. Skyla knows just how to pull me out of the mud and the mire each and every time. �
��Writing is more of a dream.”

  “Then turn it into a reality.” She rakes her fingers down my chest and stops shy of hitting pay dirt. “I believe in you, Gage. I know you can do this.”

  “Thank you.” I land a wet kiss onto her lips. “Writing is what I’ve always wanted to do.” Not sure it’ll pay the bills, though. But it’s a nice dream I wouldn’t mind keeping alive.

  “Speaking of which, you never read me my poem.”

  I lie over her until we’re face to face.

  “How about I write a poem over your body with mine”—I ride my fingers up her thigh—“then I’ll whisper the words right into your ear.”

  Her eyes close. A breath escapes her lips as if she were already there.

  “That sounds too good to be true.”

  I give a wry smile as I land a careful kiss over her mouth. I hope, in the end, I’m not too good to be true.

  Skyla wraps her legs around me as I carefully push in. She’s as tight as day one, and that’s fine by me. I groan into her as I give a heartfelt thrust. I like the way her body makes me work for it. The way she bears down and gives a gentle squeeze just when I need it. Skyla’s chest rises to meet mine. Her face is buried in my neck as I ride over her easy and slow. I want to make this last with Skyla, all of it last with Skyla. The intensity grows inside me like a cyclone picking up steam, and I slam into her, one powerful blow after another, and, suddenly, I’m feeling greedy as hell once again. I pull out and glide down the bed, pushing her thighs up to her chest and land my mouth over her sweet spot. Skyla tastes raw, the aftertaste of the rubber lingers in the background. I melt my mouth over her, riding up and down until she’s writhing beneath me. Skyla takes her time getting there—her body shifts rhythmically, her breathing carefully builds to a climax. She grabs a hold of her ankles and bears down, and I unleash one more reign of unholy terror on her. The bed shakes. Skyla belts out a cry that lets everyone in a fifty-foot radius know she’s having a real good time.

  I pause as she quakes into me, and let her finish the ride before gliding up beside her.

  In the back of my mind I’m expecting a fist pounding to ensue over the door at any moment, but I don’t care because I’m too far gone. I get on my knees and hoist her ankles up onto my shoulders, entering her fast and hard with Skyla still gasping below me. I’m in beast mode, thrusting away, and the headboard picks up on our rhythm, slamming the shit out of itself into the wall. All I need is Just. A. Few. More. Seconds.

  The horrible drumming of the wood against drywall continues until I let out a hard groan. I clutch onto her hips and pull her in with superhuman strength, trembling into her, coming for weeks as Skyla pants out breath after breath.

  I loosen and rub her hips like an apology before collapsing over her in a ball of sweat.

  “God, I love you,” I pant into her ear.

  “I love you, Gage Oliver.” She grazes her teeth against my cheek. “You think they heard?”

  I bury my face in her neck, and we share a quiet laugh.

  “Breakfast is going to be awkward,” she whispers.

  “How about we take off long before then?”

  “Deal.” She pulls the comforter over us, and I can feel the steam rising off my body. “The words?”

  “The words.” I press a kiss into her ear as I pluck the paper off the nightstand and catch a glimpse of it with the moon washing over the handwritten verse. I toss it back and hold Skyla close. I think I’ve got it memorized, etched right over my heart. I drank down those words the day I wrote them, like I’m drinking down Skyla right now. I pull back and rub my thumb gently over her cheek. “Love as strong as death, you once whispered those words to me. Here we are, come so far, to my heart you hold the key. I love you, I’ve always loved you—I’ll love you ‘til my dying breath. Live your life, you’ll still be my wife, and to my heart you’ll always hold the key. When you’re old and grey and God calls you home—when the angels come to greet you—I’ll be the first you see. We’ll be together again, home at last—our forever finally come to pass.” I press a kiss onto her lips and stay there as tears fight their way through the seam of my lids.

  “Gage.” She pulls back and examines me in the dismal light. “Oh God, that was so beautiful.” She tightens her arms around me. “Our forever finally come to pass,” she strings the words out like the strum of a harp. “I love that.” Her lips quiver as she struggles not to cry. “We’re together Gage. It was fate. Destiny finally had its beautiful way.”

  “My beautiful destiny.” I bury a kiss in her hair. “That you are.”

  My insides grind. If I’m a Fem, then destiny has for sure had its twisted way. The only one who won’t get her way is poor Skyla. There’s no way we could ever have children and give Demetri what he craves most—dominion.

  Nope—one way or another Skyla and I just might be damned.

  If Demetri is telling the truth, my mother will be the least of our worries.

  Logan

  I toss an arm up over my eyes in an attempt to get some sleep, but, the truth is, I’d rather be dead than breathing the same air as Gage at the moment.

  What am I saying? I am dead. And, right about now, I’m wishing I stayed that way. Last night was nothing short of a ballbuster. I’ve always known that Skyla was well into Gage, but the last few hours brought it home in a whole new way. It was bad enough listening to her ultra giddy cheer. G-A-G-E, who do I want to murder? Gage! Then the panting—Skyla’s all out screaming—only to have it rounded out with some good old-fashioned headboard action.

  Judas fucking priest. Is this what’s been going on here night after night? It’s a wonder Emma hasn’t hacked her own head off just to silence the beast her son has become.

  Perfect night to sleep over. As soon as Skyla took off, I changed my mind and decided to stay. In all fairness, I told her I was leaving. I’d like to believe had she known I was here, she might have turned down the volume a notch or two.

  I make a mental note of this for the next decade or so when Skyla is all mine. Payback is a real— Then I remember Gage won’t be around, and a pinch of grief lights me up on the inside. It almost makes what happened last night okay.

  Almost.

  Hell—it does.

  By the time I make my way downstairs, Gage’s truck is long gone, and I speculate Skyla went with him since they’re joined at the hip—quite literally.

  “Morning,” I grumble to Emma and Barron.

  “Logan!” Emma tackles me with a hearty hug. “God, you’re here! Did you spend the night?”

  “Yup—slept upstairs. Hope you don’t mind.”

  She cuts Barron a look. “I don’t mind. Clearly the room was unoccupied. And don’t tell me you had a good night’s sleep. I don’t think the neighbors received an ounce of decent shut eye—who could with that racket going on at all hours?”

  “They put on quite the show.” I land at the table just as Emma sinks a cup of black coffee in front of me, and I take it bitter just like my heart.

  “That they did.” Barron lifts a brow before shutting his laptop. “Have you heard anything suspicious as of late?” He shoots a quick glance to Emma to see if she’s listening.

  “Suspicious?” Emma gasps as she tosses on her coat. “That girl is corrupting our son, Barron. She’s the reason he’s not staying at the dorm we’re shelling out our hard earned dollars for each month. She’s most likely the reason his back went out. By the sound of things, she’s using him like a trampoline. And, I’ll bet anything, she’ll be the reason Gage doesn’t continue with his studies. Any minute now I’m expecting him to come home and announce he’s quitting school to find himself.” She squeezes her eyes shut tight. “God forbid they multiply.”

  My stomach clenches at the thought.

  I wait until Emma stalks off to work, before turning to my brother.

  “I think Gage might have a problem, and it has nothing to do with Skyla or your irate wife.”

  Barron takes off his glasses an
d leans in. “And everything to do with a certain Fem?”

  I lean forward and wipe down my face with my palm.

  “We need to know for sure, Barron.” I don’t have the guts to verbalize what I might be trying to say. “How are we going to do that?”

  “I’ve already done it. The results are in. Gage shares the exact same DNA as that monster in the Transfer—Demetri’s son.”

  “Shit.” The room jags in and out of focus. “How in the hell did Edinger pull one over on us and why?”

  “One—it was easy.” He leans in further. “And two—dominion.”

  12

  The Dragon and the Rose

  Skyla

  Laken and I sit riveted in history as Marshall paints a picture of the Salem witch trials, constantly eluding to the fact that just about anyone with supposed “powers” might have been considered a witch at the time and suffered the same inhuman death as those that perished. All it took was one disgruntled friend or relative to finger you as an enchantress, and your whole world went up in shit—well, flames—with you nestled in them.

  “God, that was so depressing,” Laken says after class. “It’s clear he’s talking about the Nephilim. Do you think that can happen all over again?”

  “Hell, no.” I try to sound more confident than I am. “I mean, these days, if people think you have superpowers, they give you a primetime TV special and a million dollar show in Las Vegas. Trust me, we’re golden.”

  Hey—maybe Gage and I can make millions with our “magic” act? There’s something to consider. But I’m betting it would be grounds for disqualification as the overseer of the factions—not that it isn’t a useless position to begin with.

  Laken twists her lips. “I have to admit, after Logan told Coop about Wesley’s intentions, I’ve been up at night, racking my brain trying to figure this out.”

  “What are his intentions?”