Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5) by Addison Moore
I get out, and the Paragon fog permeates around me, floating, happy to see me like an army of exuberant ghosts. The evergreens in the Black Forest stand thick and expansively high. A clearing sits in the center, and if I’m not mistaken, this is exactly where Skyla lost her arm way back when. Dudley had Ezrina carry out the act as retribution for stealing a couple of trinkets from his home. Freaking Dudley. And why does it feel as if I’m about to have something chopped off if I don’t please Candace?
I walk through the clearing, arms outstretched, spinning as I look to the sky, through the milky fog, the dense evergreen branches piercing the heavens.
“Candace!” I shout, and my voice dances around the forest, mocking me with my impotency. “Where are you, woman?” I shout so loud I dare my voice to make a mockery of that one.
“Woman?” A female voice chortles from behind, and there she is in all her celestial brilliance, white sparkling robe that flows like no earthly fabric could ever hope, golden hair that shines as if each strand were lit up from within, and lastly Skyla’s precious face, but the sarcastic smile, the hard knowing eyes, those are all one hundred percent Candace Messenger.
“You showed on the first try. You keep doing that, you’re going to spoil me.” I head in her direction, unsure whether to bow, kneel, or hug her, so I opt for none of the above. Instead, we start in on an even pace as we make our way into the woods.
“I intend on spoiling you.” She shakes her hair out as she tips her chin to the sky. This version of Skyla takes self-confidence to a whole new level. Self-confidence on steroids. “In fact, you must admit that I already have. In the natural order of things, the Master has designed his creation to live out their destiny within the time frame allotted. You, my love, have transcended time and space and bodies to fulfill your destiny.” She picks up my hand, and a soothing calm fills me. Nothing perverted like the riff Dudley’s body puts out. This is a balm, a healing and respite to the soul that you didn’t even realize you needed. “I chose you, Logan.” We traverse fallen tree trunks—correction, I hop, and she levitates as if a couple of angels just lifted her over it.
“I don’t need any angels to assist in my endeavors.” She winks my way, and I acknowledge the fact she just read my mind with a nod. “I selected you, Logan, for many reasons. Do you realize most humans don’t believe in fate? They believe time and chance orchestrate when they are born, where they live, what country, race, position, and gender come about. It’s laughable to the two of us, but so utterly horrific, to think there is no cosmic rhythm to this thing called life.” She laces our fingers together as we head into a hooded tunnel of evergreens so interknit that the sky, the fog for that matter, is shut out of this cloistered nest of pines. “The beauty of life is often seen, but just as often misunderstood. So many sorry souls believe this is all there is. One hundred years of earthly bondage, and they are alarmingly satisfied with that. Can you imagine? Satisfied with the preview?” She shakes her head, her body the only glowing light shed upon the path before us. “You’re not satisfied with the preview. You’re too smart for that.”
“I’ve seen the end game, Candace. Not everyone has had the opportunity to see what I have. I’ve seen the throne room and those that sit on the thrones. You can’t disparage humans too much for not transcending their earthly thought patterns. This world is wicked, and it can leave even the softest heart jaded.” I should know.
“The Master has seeded His glory in every detail of this planet, in the atmosphere, and in the universe that they should know one greater than they is Lord over all. Man is without excuse,” she reminds softly.
A dull laugh resonates in my chest, and when I look up, I’m alarmed to find the evergreen branches traded for walls, the white tongue of a hallway leading to individual rooms, and instantly, I know where we are. You might say this is where it all began, but I know that’s not true. This is simply where it began for me.
“The clinic.” I meet with her gaze, and we stare wordlessly at one another.
“Yes,” she finally says, leading me to the room on the end. My room, and I look in to find her—a previous version of her—speaking with me. My hunched body, my leathered face, pocked and melted over my skull. All of those endless parades of surgeries could only do so much. The fire had taken my parents, and it had taken me for the most part, too. I was a hideous thing to the world, but I was the same person I am today on the inside. And Candace. She looks as untouched by time as ever. “There we are. Do you feel as if you’re watching yourself strike a deal with the devil?”
A breath gets locked in my throat. Candace blocked the thought off at the pass.
“You said it, not me.”
“You seemed so eager to please me back then, so very desperate to love my daughter, be her husband, bless me with grandchildren, and together your family would have led Celestra to victory.”
Desperate. I can’t help but think of Coop. Yes, there was a time I was desperate as well.
“Celestra has victory.”
She shakes her head, and her hair sparkles like a brilliant gemstone. “It’s an illusion, Logan. It’s not secure.”
“And that’s where I come in.” I can’t help but smear the words with sarcasm.
“Logan, did you agree to our covenant out of desperation? Is that why you’ve softened your stance on fulfilling it? I gave you what you wanted and you no longer feel the need to give me what I asked for?”
“I may have had an air of desperation, but I’m damn glad you moved heaven and earth to get me to Skyla. That was my true life. Or at least it feels that way. But Skyla is with Gage now. They have a family. My heart aches at the finality of it all, but when you love someone, a true sacrifice is sometimes required. And I’m sacrificing for the greater good.” I bear hard into her lucent eyes, praying that she’ll understand. “Gage is a factor that I didn’t know would play such a huge role. He’s the father of those boys. They deserve to have their family stay intact. He’s back now, and he’s committed to her once again.” I pick up her other hand as well and swing them lightly between us. “Candace, there is no room in the equation for me anymore. Whether I like it or not, fate, or chance, or maybe both have written me out of the story.”
Fury lights up her eyes as sure as a fireball ripping through each one. Her lungs fill with an enormous breath as she leans in and narrows those daggers my way.
“Logan Oliver, you are the only one rewriting this story. In an irony too large to comprehend, you wrote your own self out.” Her words bite the air between us, and there’s a hush in the room behind us as if our past selves had paused to listen. “Do you understand that I could see clearly into your heart that day?” Her finger dives past me. “You professed you would be true to Skyla and love her, protect her, and shield her from the coming evil. And once she arrived on Paragon, though your memory was scant, your heart remembered every word. You fell in love with Skyla of your own volition.” She lays her hand over my chest, and I can feel my heart drumming against it, alive and thirsty for her truths as if they were water. You are genuinely in love with my daughter, Logan.” Her lips blush crimson as they pull into a line. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way.” She takes up my hand, and we walk directly into the room with our old selves as occupants, neither aware of our presence, the two of us still locked in our secretive whispers. I can’t help but steal a moment to look at myself, the old me with the pocked skin, stretched, shredded, and melted over bone. But those eyes. I still see those very eyes each and every morning. I know what they’re thinking, what they are desperately trying to communicate with this angel of light that stepped into my room. Let me out of this twisted cage of flesh. I am ready to love your daughter. That’s where I belong, there with her, not here—not this way.
Candace pauses and looks down at the tattered version of myself. “I reeled time in like a tattered kite from the sky when I reversed the order of what was. Your brother Liam sacrificed his time on the planet so that you could have reentry.
It feels as if she’s speaking to him, the old me. She looks up at me, startled as if remembering I was in the room with her, holding her hand.
“Shall we?” She nods to the wall before walking us right through it. The clinic, the cloying nature of that old world all dissipate, right along with that room, and in its place are the gnarled branches of the Black Forrest. “So now you understand the first part of the story, Logan. Let us discuss the next.” She stops at the foot of the clearing. The soot-covered evergreens lift high around us like a tower of guards protecting us from what feels like a certain evil. “And now I will open your eyes. You will no longer see the world through warped lenses. You will see how far wickedness has gone to secure their realm for evil—just as far as I have gone for good.”
I swallow down that Gage-sized lump in my throat. “Go ahead. Whatever you say, I will believe. I know you speak the truth.”
Her chest bucks with a obstinate laugh. “You won’t believe me. Not quite yet. But will you believe me before it’s too late? That is the question.” She blinks to the sky. “As much time and energy that I spent engineering your track to fall in love with Skyla, the enemy worked twice as hard. Dissecting her dreams, her carnal desires, placing their pawn in her midst, and most genius of all, yours as well.”
A hard groan comes from me. “I know this, Candace. I know that Gage is the infamous well-placed boyfriend from Chloe’s diary of yesteryear. I know that Demetri knowingly and willingly landed Gage in Skyla’s life—but she loves him, and so do I. Gage, try as he might, is not wicked.”
“Is.” She draws her hands back from mine, her voice rising to the sky as the tips of the charred evergreens bow down to see what all the ruckus is about. “Gage is wicked. And by letting him have your wife, dwindling down your years without her rightfully by your side, you let the enemy win. You erase the marriage that was destined for the two of you—and I’m not speaking of that appetizer that lasted less than a vapor. And what of your children?” Her nostrils flare, her chest heaves, and yet a slow smile curves on my lips at the thought of having children with Skyla. And then, just like that, it falls to nothing.
“Skyla has a family. She has children. They belong to Gage.”
“No,” she snipes so fast and loud a half dozen sparrows shoot out of a neighboring tree. “You are Skyla’s family.” She pokes her finger hard in my chest. “She was to have your children. They would belong to you.” Her finger stabs me right over my new beating heart. “You claim to understand the enemy’s design, and yet you only scratch the surface with your knowledge. Think deeply on these matters. The enemy has not only snatched your destiny from underneath you, but he has demanded that you love him. He has demanded you surrender with a smile. He is clever, and cunning, and crafty, and you—you are clumsy in your belief that giving up Skyla is for the greater good. You have gone from desperate to dangerous.” Her hand claps quickly over my cheek, knocking my head to the side with a violent force. The sting of her flesh against mine lights up my nerves with a blaze of the brightest flame. “Perhaps that will knock some sense into you. Do give Skyla my best.” Her eyes glow a deep cerulean blue as the remainder of her eminence fades against the backdrop of the charcoal forest. “Find the courage to penetrate that fortress the enemy has built around her. Young boys as human shields—cowards. All of you.”
The forest stills quiet as a cemetery as the mist quickly fills in the space that Candace just abandoned.
“Shit,” I mutter. I’m no coward. Coop and that desperate text come back to me as I reach for my phone. “Hey!” I shout at the molasses clouds bubbling above me with the promise of an ark-worthy flood. “If you’re in the mood to save another desperate soul, check in with Cooper Flanders! Laken is in desperate need of your services!” I thunder so loud my voice rubs threadbare.
An explosive ring of fire ignites in the sky, and a spark catches the tip of an evergreen.
“Shit.” I watch, horrified, as the top of the tree erupts in flames like a birthday candle, and then in a comedy of errors, three trees next to it explode in roaring flames. “Aw, fuck.” I head for my truck and call the fire department.
Just my luck. I drive away from the flames as screaming red trucks race past me toward the fire, and I can’t help but feel a little bit like a coward.
New Year’s Eve shows up like an uninvited guest to a very private party—the one Gage and Skyla host nightly in that shoebox love den of theirs, the butterfly room. I should know. I’ve been privy to every racy, raucous, and raunchy as all hell move. It’s become explicitly clear that Skyla is quite comfortable with Gage exploring her every orifice. And she’s limber. My God, the woman is a contortionist. She was in cheer, after all. Which brings me to my next point. Role-playing. Gage likes the uniform on sans the kick pants. He is a sick puppy even if he does like to go at it like a freaking rabbit.
Yes, it’s New Year’s Eve, and the bowling alley has been torn down, rebuilt, resurrected, comeback from the dead much like its owner, at least one them. Ellis is still kicking around in his original toasted flesh.
“Take a hit,” he commands, struggling to hold his breath as he whacks my arm with his hand, a lit joint sits pinched between his fingers. We’re standing outside, behind the kitchen of the bowling alley. The dense fog slips on by into the opened doorway as if it doesn’t want to miss the party. I’d say it was going to be the party of the year, but nothing can top the masquerade, and I don’t mean that in a good way.
“Dude, this is our first official meeting before we open for business. Is this really necessary?” I knock his arm away with my elbow.
He exhales, shaking his head at me with pity. “You are never going to learn to have a good time, are you?”
I tick my head to the side and glance down at the zoot suit I’ve donned, the submachine gun strapped to my chest, my shiny black patent leather shoes. “Ellis, I’m dressed like a character in an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. I’ve let Lizbeth Landon transform the interior of that petting zoo you crafted into a Roaring Twenties time machine. Never mind the fact we’re openly breaking the prohibition rule, and I have you threatening to fill the place with foam come midnight. I’d say I knew how to have a damn good time in spite of the insurance repercussions.”
“That’s what I like to hear, man.” He takes another slow drag just as a vision of tangled limbs enters my mind—arms threading through legs, the naked round moon of Skyla’s ass rises, and I give a hard groan.
“Here they go again.” It’s been an entire week of Gage and Skyla copulating like mad and me rushing over with enthused kisses for the entire Landon clan. Hell, I kissed Tad one morning just to cover my tracks.
The guests are beginning to fill the bowling alley, and here Skyla and Gage are stealing a moment to—
Something distracts them, and they’re buttoning up in haste. My entire body sags with relief at the momentary reprieve. I pull out my phone and text Gage to get here quick. I let him know I need that help he promised, stat.
“Give me that.” I take the blunt from Ellis and enjoy a quick drag, filling my shiny new lungs with the fumes. Just once. Just tonight. Just something to take the edge off.
“Oliver,” a sharp voice booms from the doorway, and I turn to find Nev and Marshall looking decidedly pissed at my decision-making skills, so I thrust the joint back Ellis’ way.
Nev tips his chin. “I’ll continue to greet the guests on your behalf. Do utilize the cologne in your office copiously before joining the gathering. I’d advise against dulling your senses. Mind your better judgment.” He stalks off like a pissed fathe
“Oliver.” Dudley glares my way hard, his eyes illuminating red with rage.
“Dude”—Ellis shudders at Dudley while stubbing out his joint—“you really know how to scare the crap out of someone.” He shoots a look my way before heading inside. “I’d watch your back, Logan.”
I frown over at Dudley. “What do you want? Are you here to lecture me?” I stuff my hands into my front pockets and take in a full breath of Paragon fog. It’s just as mind-numbing as the shit Ellis is pushing.
He steps in quick and furious, his features sharpened with a new level of anger that I’ve yet to witness. “Yes, I am here to lecture you. As your supervising spirit, a large portion of my job description is actually supervising you.” He jabs a finger to my chest. “Is this how you show gratitude toward the maker?”
“Ellis—”
“I don’t care what Harrison does to his brain cells. You will need yours. And after witnessing what I do with you on a regular basis, I would strongly recommend you care for them rather than watch them go up in smoke. They are a precious commodity. One in which you will need plenty of in the days to follow.” Each word comes out of his mouth in a puffy white cloud, and a part of me finds this ironic. “Has Candace spoken with you?”
My eyes spring wide, and I’m fully back at attention. “Why?”
He closes his eyes a moment. “Because it’s time to get on with things.” He shakes his head slightly at me as if denying it. “The beauty of the enemy’s strategy is that they planted a seed of evil in the soil of love. You love Gage. Skyla loves Gage. Not surprisingly Gage loves Gage. You wish to gift Gage his heart’s desire. Skyla wishes the same. And do not think for a moment that Jock Strap will deny himself any good thing. His father has convinced him otherwise. He is the son of perdition. Do not forget that.”