Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5) by Addison Moore
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her face slicked with tears. “It took more than a moment to understand it was really you. How did you feel when it happened? Did you suffer much?”
“If you’re talking about my abrupt exit, yes, it hurt like hell. But I was too worried about these guys to care.” I bounce Barron in my arms, and he kicks and bucks until I land him in the foyer along with his brother.
“Come in, everybody.” My mother ushers the entire lot of us inside. “You’ll catch your deaths out there!” She gasps with surprise as she looks up me. “Not you, my son.” She cups my cheek with her hand. “Never again will that be you.”
The party moves into the living room, but my father and Logan linger behind.
“I love you.” My father pulls me in for another firm embrace. “There are people in the living room,” he whispers. “Just wanted to warn you.” He pulls back with his steely blue eyes sparkling with fresh tears. “There are so many things I wish to discuss with you. I need you, Gage. If I’ve discovered anything in this dark interim, it’s that I need you more than I ever realized.” He takes off, and Logan steps up with those serious eyes painted red just for me.
“Man.” Logan pulls me in hard, and his body bucks with emotion. “We did it.” He slaps me over the shoulder. “We’re back on Paragon where we belong. Although you’re most likely far more permanent than I am. I’m coming up on my ninth life.” He gives a little wink. “Everything okay? You and Skyla good?”
“Yes.” I nod as I crane my neck into the living room to find her speaking with Giselle and Michelle Miller. “In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Skyla.” I scour his features for a hint of resistance. “Demetri says she’s the key to my role here. I was instructed to love her, love my family.”
“What?” He inches back, his skin looks smoother than usual save for the scar Skyla gifted him—he kept it, and I wonder why. His eyes look brighter than they were before, his hair thicker, those biceps of his a little more defined right through his shirt. It’s safe to say Candace was generous in his rehabilitation. “That’s”—he turns his head ever so slightly—“done and done. Dude”—he shakes my hand—“God is smiling down on you, man. I’m so happy for the both of you.”
“So you don’t mind?”
“Nope.” Logan doesn’t even hesitate. “Skyla and you both deserve to have your family pieced back together, and I’m not going to stand in the way of that.”
Words struggle to stream from me, but they’re too congested with my own doubts.
“Hey”—he slaps me over the back—“don’t fight this. The old you had a bad habit of overcomplicating things. Don’t allow that to happen here. She’s in there. Let’s go be with your family.”
We head on in, and Demetri’s ugly mug hits me like a brick wall to the face. I don’t know why seeing him here among the stark white tree and matching lights has me stunned. Demetri is like head lice, everywhere at once and impossible to get rid of.
“Son.” He holds out his arms and offers a kiss to both cheeks. The Judas kiss of betrayal. “How wonderful to have you back where you belong. I’ve arranged for Wesley to meet with us soon enough.”
Skyla steps up. “Preparing to take over the world so soon?” she smarts at him, and he frowns.
“Yes, well, some of us don’t like to take our time with important matters.”
She sucks in a breath at the slight as he excuses himself and Dudley steps in his place.
“Nice to see you’ve arrived alive, fully alive at that.” He glowers at me a moment before turning to Skyla. “You and I have business to discuss, Ms. Messenger.”
Skyla wraps an arm around my waist. “It’s Christmas. Don’t you Sectors and Fems ever take a day off?”
Dudley’s poinsettia red eyes light up like flames. “A day off is exactly what ushered in the Dark Ages, otherwise known as the period the Fems ruled. I shan’t be quick to cause such an error. You will come and we will devise a battle standard to wield in pride and strength. There are no holidays once wickedness takes a seat at his throne.”
Skyla growls, “Take that back, Marshall. Gage Oliver never was and never will be wicked.”
He leans in, his features hard as flint. “I didn’t call him wicked, Skyla. You did.” He takes off for the kitchen, and it’s just Skyla and Logan staring at me as if the wicked ball were in my court.
“I’m the same person I’ve always been.” And that, right there, might have been my first lie in new skin.
Ellis and Giselle step forward.
“Dude.” Ellis knuckle bumps me. His hair is slicked back for the most part, his eyes are glossy and pink, and that half-smile he’s known for is neatly plastered to his face. “Death becomes you.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got more life pumping through me than you do.”
“I’m so proud of you!” Giselle shouts so loud as if I were indeed still on the other side. “You beat death, Gage! Two of us in one family beating death! Can you believe it?”
Michelle Miller cranes her neck this way as Liam struggles to hold her attention. Michelle isn’t one of us. And I’m pretty sure the concept of beating death wouldn’t go over too well with her. She most likely thinks we’re a certifiable bunch anyway.
Giselle pulls me in and lands a wet sloppy kiss to my cheek. “We’re special, Gage. You and me. We must have something very important to do on Earth. Why else would the Master let us linger?”
“Yes”—Demetri swills the dark amber liquid in his glass from across the room—“a very important assignment was given to you both. I can attest to that.”
I don’t bother playing into his head game. I know what my assignment is. G is simply here by Candace’s good grace.
Liam comes forward, clapping to get our attention. “Emma, Barron, get back in here! I’ve got something I want to say.”
The room fills up with the friends and family I’ve craved all those lonely weeks. Skyla has her arms wrapped around me like a seat belt, the lights on the tree flicker on and off rhythmically, and all feels right with the world.
Liam nods my way. “First, I just want to say, thank you to the powers that be for returning my nephew. Gage is simply one Oliver the rest of us cannot live without.”
“Hear, hear!” Skyla chimes without missing a beat.
“And”—Liam extends a hand, and Michelle steps forward—“I’ve been wanting to share with you all exactly how much I love this woman, too. I love her so damn much.”
Liam falls to one knee, and Skyla, G, and my mother all suck in a sharp lungful of air.
“Michelle Marlita Miller—will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Michelle lets out a wild yelp before plucking my brother off the floor. “Where’s the ring?” she screams with excitement. “Where the hell’s the ring?”
“Right here.” Liam pats down the front of his jeans until he produces a sparkling hunk of granite. Michelle quickly snags the stone and jams it onto her finger.
“If the ring fits, you must say yes! Yes!” She throws her arms into the air, and the room erupts in shouts and howls as Liam twirls her in a circle. “I’m going to be Mrs. Liam Oliver!” she whoops so loud you’d think she won the jackpot, and with Liam, she has. Liam is a good guy, and he deserves to have someone who loves him intensely, just the way Michelle seems to.
“And life goes on,” I whisper as I land a kiss to Skyla’s cheek.
“Champagne for all!” my mother beams as she and Dad head to the wet bar to provide the bubbly.
Nathan and Barron give a couple of hair-raising screams, eliciting a laugh from each of us.
Michelle walks over, showing off her new sparkler to everyone in sight. She lifts her left hand and blinds us with the enormous rock on her finger. It’s so overwhelmingly big, a part of me is frightened for my brother’s bank account.
“Oh my God!” Skyla pulls Michelle’s bronzed hand in and examines the sheer girth of that boulder sitting on her finger. ??
Michelle extracts her hand from Skyla’s grasp. “A couple hundred thousand fortunes’ worth. Daddy made sure Liam did the right thing.”
“Ah, I see.” Skyla winks my way.
Michelle’s father is a real estate mogul who owns half of Seattle. I’m sure he lent Liam the cash to supply his baby girl with a circus-worthy wedding. Honestly, she won’t get any practical work done with a ring of that size. I glance down as Skyla’s thumb automatically twirls her own wedding ring—my grandmother’s wedding ring to be exact. It’s beautiful and simple, and I love every platinum ounce of it.
“Congratulations, you two,” I say as Liam asks to speak with Logan on the side. Most likely to crown him best man. If Skyla and I decide to move forward to renew our vows, that’s exactly what I plan on doing.
Michelle scoffs while examining the rock on her finger. “You know I’m not the kind of girl who cares about a big wedding or a fancy ring”—she glances up at Skyla—“psych! You better believe I’m going to get the Bitch Squad together for a wet and wild blowout bash right here on Paragon. I’m thinking something elegant at the Madison Lights Ballroom.”
Skyla’s face lights up. “Where we had junior prom!”
“Yup. And then we’ll take off for a month to honeymoon in Tahiti. Hawaii is so yesterday.”
“Oh?” Skyla glances my way. “Hawaii is actually our special place.” She pulls me in and circles her arms around my waist. “Kauai to be exact, north shore.”
Michelle tips her head thoughtfully to the side. “Or maybe Fiji? I hear Australia can’t be beat, though. Anyway, we have time to think about all that silly crap. I demand to be a June bride.”
“We chose September.” Skyla sighs my way dreamily with the memory. “September—the thirteenth.”
“Friday the thirteenth?” Michelle balks. “No wonder the two of you have had nothing but a bumpy ride. You should know better than to tempt fate like that. It’s like you went in begging for trouble. I’m choosing the second week in June. It’s by far the safest. Studies show that marriages that take place on that weekend survive more than any other time of the year. Statistics are your friend, Skyla.” She scowls into her. “Take a lesson.”
Skyla sneers at her. “For your information, Gage and I didn’t marry on Friday the thirteenth. Logan and I did,” she says that last bit under her breath.
Michelle heads for the kitchen, and I can’t help but chuckle when I meet with Skyla’s beautiful eyes.
“Take a lesson,” I whisper darkly.
“Oh, honey”—she glosses her lips with her tongue—“I’m willing to take whatever lesson you’re up for teaching.”
That knot in my stomach tightens once again. I’d love nothing more than to give Skyla one lesson after another in the bedroom. I shoot a quick glance over to Logan who’s happily chatting up with Ellis, talking about their new endeavor ready to be unleashed upon the world. If it wasn’t for Logan—for Demetri’s cryptic words, this would be a no-brainer, but it’s all too easy for the taking. Skyla and I make zero sense on the celestial front. Or do we?
“Son?” a deep voice calls from the dining room, and I look over to find Barron, my true father, holding a scotch in one hand, a peaceful smile on his face. “Do you mind?” He nods me over, and I excuse myself from Skyla as Dudley fills in the gap.
My father’s go-to expression has always been a slightly pained smile with nothing but love pouring from his eyes. And I wonder if that pain was fearing that I wasn’t truly his in the genetic sense. In a way, I represent his darkest fear, and yet my father holds nothing but love for me.
I offer a firm embrace and inhale the scent of his familiar spiced cologne. His scent would warn me of his presence when I was a kid, and now it warms me and brings a smile to my face long before I see him. Just knowing he’s near is a gift.
“What’s the face for?” He tips his glasses up as if to see me better. “You’re with Skyla. You’re back with your boys. One would think you would be the happiest man in the room.”
“He is.” A hard slap lands over my shoulder as Demetri interrupts the one sliver of alone time with my father. “Skyla and Gage will prosper. Isn’t that so, son?” Demetri grins through his words, a true talent that looks every bit as cheesy as it sounds.
I glance back at Skyla and Dudley. She has her back to us, laughing, but Dudley is shooting the cosmic stink eye this way, and I can’t help but frown over at him.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Dad gasps as if I just let a string of expletives fly. “Whatever do you mean? You and Skyla were meant to be together. You have children, Gage. You don’t throw away family on a whim. That’s not how I raised you.”
Demetri nods in approval of my father’s diatribe. “The man speaks with sound reason.”
The muscles in my jaw clench as I stare down Demetri a moment before focusing my attention on my true father. “I’m terrified I’m doing the wrong thing. Skyla and Logan—I don’t know...” A part of me refuses to throw destiny around tonight like some kerosene-soaked rag ready to burn the house down. “I love Skyla and the boys more than there are words to express, but I don’t want to ruin what’s meant to be.” I glare at Demetri a moment. “The first thing you suggested I do when I got back was to love Skyla. Didn’t you realize that would set off every damn bell and whistle?”
Demetri’s perma-grin glides off for a brief moment. “Heavens.” His features sharpen. “Do you recall Candace suggesting that fate was malleable? Why are you hesitant to take what’s yours? I’m afraid you’ve misconstrued my suggestion for you to love your wife as something more nefarious than intended. I was simply alluding to the fact another ceremony should be held. The old covenant is gone away. A better one, an eternal covenant should be formed. Though you no longer qualify for the marriage covenant as known to man, there are binding agreements, a spiritual melding of the souls that can be performed. An eternal bonding like no other.” He lifts his amber drink in my honor. “Unbreakable in every way.”
I look to my father and blow out a breath. “What do you think?”
He takes off his glasses and steps in as if to get a better look at me, blinking hard as if adjusting his focus. “Are you serious? How are we having this conversation?” There’s something grounding about his bewilderment that has the power to anchor my feet to the planet once again. “Gage, please don’t tell me we’re at square one with you and Logan warring over that poor girl’s heart. Enough is enough. You’re grown men. Skyla chose you. She bore your children, for Pete’s sake.” His voice grows stiff and labored, a clear sign he’s reached his tipping point. “If Candace Messenger herself suggested the two of you could make this work—yes, even as two opposing leaders. What is there to debate?”
Logan says something to Ellis, and the two of them light up the living room with the sound of husky laughter. The boys shudder before spontaneously clapping at their favorite uncle and laughing right along with him.
Dad leans in, and I can feel the warmth radiating off him. “Are you anxious to let someone else raise your children?”
Demetri huffs a dull laugh. “My son, the world is yours and all that is in it. Why deny yourself what rightfully belongs to you? Your family needs you. It would be selfish to come back so miraculously only to leave them by the wayside.”
My father nods up at me. “Do not entertain thoughts of abandonment. Those boys need you and so does your wife.”
Logan nods over at me with those sorrowful eyes, that I’m-on-your-side smile.
Logan. It’s always been his approval I sought after. But then, he was dead and gone and Skyla was mine. And now the roles are slightly reversed, and yet he’s already gifted us his blessing.
My gaze drifts to my beautiful wife, her beauty shining brighter than that angel set on top of my mother’s tree. The room might be full of angelic beings, but Skyla ou
My boys waddle up and I take Nathan into my arms and my father’s namesake.
“Yes,” I say it clear as I look to both of my children. “I choose you, too.” I land a kiss to Nathan’s forehead, and he slaps me in return. The exact representation of my face laughing up at me as he pinches my nose shut. Demetri and my father share a warm laugh, and indeed everything about this moment feels like a Christmas miracle.
We have dinner and open gifts with Logan playing the part of Santa. Giselle sits in a puddle full of toys just like the boys.
“I thought we’d never finish.” Skyla gives a little laugh as she tosses up the wrapping paper we’re drowning in.
My mother has a system when it comes to opening gifts—oldest to youngest—heck, some years she reverses the order, each opens only one gift, and around and around we go. Skyla didn’t shop this year, and everyone understood it. My mother claims to have finished her shopping before what she’s deemed as the incident. But it didn’t go unnoticed that Logan got a new watch from her, Ellis, too. Giselle received a sparkling necklace with a silver cross, and Skyla didn’t have a thing to open for herself. Of course, I didn’t either, but I was the only guest she didn’t think would actually show. I can’t help but glower at my mother a moment, and just as I’m about to say something, I spot a miniature red box underneath the tree and my heart soars. She didn’t forget Skyla. My mother would never leave her out in the cold. And, my God, if she did, Skyla would make sure I knew about it.
“Hey, dude,” I grouse over at Logan playfully. “You missed one.” I shoot at the happy little package with my fingers. “Looks like Skyla has something to open, after all. Mom has always liked saving the best for last.”