Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After Book 5)

  We get to the double-wide doors stretched open like a pair of dark wings ready to encapsulate us with wicked intent, and Skyla jumps in front of Demetri a moment.

  “Before I forget.” She sucks in her bottom lip. “Have you heard of any infernal being named Aurora? Rory?” Her lids hang as heavy as her pride in this moment. Asking Demetri for help is always a desperate extreme. “Did she kill Gage?”

  “No.” Demetri doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “My goodness. Why would she?”

  “So she does exist.” Skyla sharpens her words, her features hardened in an instant, and I can’t help but bump out a laugh.

  “Well, she got you there, Pops. You answered a question you probably wouldn’t have otherwise.”

  His face turns a strange shade of plum, and for the first time he actually looks miffed. “So you did, Skyla, but I’m afraid any other inquiry you may have is better relegated to your mother.”

  “Is she really my sister?” Skyla is pleading with him once again with those wide eyes, but Demetri has turned to stone. Instead, he holds a hand out for her to enter the goliath mansion before us, and she reluctantly does.

  “Wow, marble walls, limestone floors, a mirror the size of Paragon tracking our every move.” She shakes her head, taking in the magnitude of the grandeur. “Most impressive.”

  “I didn’t have a thing to do with it,” I’m quick to admit.

  Demetri sniffs the air with a hint of pride. “Sage did a remarkable job.”

  “She had a little help.” I tick my head his way while making a face at Skyla.

  The sound of light footsteps falling fast in this direction gets our attention from behind. “Father!” Sage shrills, and I turn to see her beautiful face filled with enthusiasm eager to see me. Her hair blows back in long dark feathers, her bright eyes dim quickly as she spots Skyla, and her body grinds to a halt. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” She steps forward and offers me a firm embrace, and I lean down to kiss her cheek.

  “Be nice.”

  “Oh, I will. It’s always a delicate dance when the enemy is in your midst.”

  “Sage.” Skyla wraps her arms around the two of us, and a warmth that rivals a tropical breeze fills me. “My God, how I love you.” She sobs. “I miss you so much.” She showers her tiny face with kisses, and Sage grits her teeth, taking it just for me. It breaks my heart to see her so distanced from her own mother. I’m going to have a serious heart-to-heart with her once I get the chance. I will drill it home to that little girl—she is not to abhor her mother. Skyla isn’t the enemy. I am.

  Sage plucks herself free from our threesome embrace and shoots a side-eye to our other guests. “Uncle.” She nods to Wes. “Demetri.” She crimps a little smile in his honor. “I think I’ll take mother on a tour of the mansion. I’m sure the three of you have much to discuss as far as the war is concerned.” Her sapphire eyes pin tight on Skyla. “There will be a war. I’m sorry there is no other way for us, but might I suggest we put aside alliances for a time while I escort you through the grounds? You can tell me all about those ninnies related to me.”

  Skyla tucks her fists into her hips, ready to scold Sage for the nickname she’s christened her brothers with. “You mean Tad and Demetri?” she teases.

  Sage bursts forth with a laugh while taking Skyla’s hand and leading her down a wide corridor that leads to the back of this labyrinth. “Now, you know just who I was referring to. I like your sense of humor, Mother. Hold onto it. You’re going to need it.”

  And just like that, they shrink out of sight.

  Wes nods to the grand room before leading us inside and to a round onyx table, tall, comfortable at standing height, and wide as a tractor wheel. He runs his hand over the surface, and it lights up like a monitor, the Earth appears, deep blue oceans, emerald green landscapes with tufts of clouds enrobing it. He waves his hand over the image again, and a series of locations throb red as a Valentine.

  “What’s that?” It’s mostly lighting up a fire line across North America, but there are a smattering of locations around the world to consider it global.

  “That is your enemy.” Wes glances up, his jaw tightening as if he were ready to throttle me. “Gage, they have the solution we have been waiting for. Their trials are almost over. This could go global quickly. Which begs the question, what are you waiting for? I’m sure they’ve asked it themselves.”

  My heart thumps unnaturally as I shoot a quick look to Demetri.

  “Son.” His brows pinch. “You know what you must do.”

  I know exactly what they’re talking about—the solution to hiding the markers. From what I gleaned from Skyla, they’re still working out the kinks. And by they, I don’t mean Ezrina. For whatever reason, Skyla says the information hasn’t trickled Ezrina’s way just yet. Hell, maybe I’m the one in the dark.

  I look to Wes. “Who exactly has the information? Is there a Noster equivalent of Ezrina? Hell, does Ezrina know?” My stomach knots up at the thought. In no way do I want to hurt Ezrina.

  Wes nods just once. “Ezrina undoubtedly knows by now. And as far as how deeply this has penetrated, it’s impossible to tell.” He takes a step in, his breathing measured and anxious. “Time is not your friend, Gage.” He leans in until his heavy gaze is hooked to mine. “In fact, if you get right down to it, it’s already too late. What are you waiting for? Are you going to let them eat our people alive?”

  I swallow hard, looking at the hotspots as they pulsate over the planet like a heartbeat.

  “No.” No, I will not spend an eternity without Skyla. And if the only way to accomplish that is to stop her, then so be it. “I’ll put an end to this. What are my choices?” My heart drums against my chest because already I know there can only be one.

  Wes takes a breath “Kill or be killed.”

  “Then we need to kill.”

  Wes shakes his head. “Dude, you have a population that spans thousands. You are staring in the face of a massacre. How in the hell are you going to pull this off?”

  I look to Demetri, and a thought comes to me—a dark, horrific, deeply sorrowful solution that undoubtedly will work. “I have an idea. I’ll need an arsenal of Fems at my disposal.”

  Demetri shakes his head just enough. “You and your brother are half-breeds. This is your war to wage, not ours.”

  Shit. I scan the floor for a moment before looking to my brother. “We need angels willing to destroy—the elite of the Barricade. This task isn’t for the squeamish, and I want as few people involved as possible.”

  “What about the Videns?” Wes is offering up my own people on a platter, and I pump a dry smile.

  “I did promise them I’d free their loved ones from bondage, but I don’t think Spectators are the solution to this.” I look to Demetri. “And I demand a solution. I need Ezrina to be equipped with the knowledge to reverse their condition.”

  Wes folds his arms across his chest. “She’s done it before.”

  “This is different.”

  Demetri tips his head. “Dare I say impossible.”

  I snatch the bastard up by the shirt and pull him in. “Nothing is impossible.” I release him with a firm shove. “You got me doing your bidding, didn’t you? I’m here with bells on, and you’ll do the same for me. I’m going to scratch your hairy back, and you will damn well scratch the hell out of mine. I’m heading over to Raven’s Eye to pick up Kresley. I want the rest of the captives as well.”

  Demetri glances back the way we came. “It’s not often I agree with Skyla, but in this case, it stands to reason that without the Videns to keep the government entertained, they will turn their sights on your people—and I am speaking collectively. Let the Videns do what they signed up for, Gage. An irate loved one is simply a byproduct of being a leader—of making tough choices.” Those cinder pools he calls eyes bear hard into mine. “And you do have tough choices to make.”

  “They’re not tough to make.” My hand flattens over the cool onyx, and the image of
the world disappears beneath it. “They’re just impossible to fathom. I’m going to kill people—remove them from the planet, separate them from their loved ones.” The words feel like a curse strumming from my lips. “All in an effort to send the Sectors to hell, and my own mother-in-law, for God’s sake.” I close my eyes as my mind begs to shatter from the effort. “Maybe it’s selfish of me. Maybe the greater solution is to send all of us to hell instead. Why must the world suffer?”

  Wes places his hand gently over mine before offering a quick tap. “I wouldn’t shed a tear for Candace. There is no doubt she will be evicted from that infernal place. Hell won’t want her. But as far as Skyla goes and your children—who will spend eternity with them? You or Professor Dudley? I guarantee he will laugh at your memory once they seal us in that molten pit.”

  My insides grind at the thought. As much as I want to hate Dudley, I can’t seem to do it.

  “Time is of the essence, Gage,” Demetri speaks the words softly, slowly. “The great Harpazo is a mystery even to those close to the Master. Once the cord is severed, it’s too late. As it stands, you are already damned.”

  I swipe my hand over the onyx table, and the world reappears minus the inflammation caused by Noster. “How do I get this war rolling?”

  Wes clears his throat. “If you slaughter over fifty percent of the Faction, you’ll land yourself in one.”

  I look to my demented father. “Is it true?”

  “Undoubtedly.” He gives a mock bow. “Might I suggest you enter into a celestial covenant with your betrothed prior to executing the masses?”

  Executing the masses. “Shit.” I slam my hand down over the onyx stone, fracturing it easy as glass. The air thickens with malice, and I hate how eager I am to breathe it. But at some point I need to own who I am, what I’ve become. I’m standing in place of my sons. I’ve taken their curse upon myself. And there is no way in hell, and I mean that in the literal sense, that I’ll be missing out on an eternity with them. No, there is no way around this massacre. If executing the masses is what it’s come down to, then so be it. “Wes, I’ll need your help in getting this done.”

  “I’m on it.” His voice is low, but I can taste his determination to make this happen. I’m about to live out all of his wicked fantasies regarding my own people. My heart thuds to a sudden halt. And today, this is where I leave them. Skyla’s people are no longer my own. There isn’t a bone in my body that can call them that any longer. I’m a blight, a splinter in their eye, a nail in their casket. It’s time to spread my dark nefarious wings and shower them with the fire from my mouth. It’s time for the dragon in me to do what he was made for—kill, steal, and destroy. Deep down inside, I’ve always known this was my mission.

  I hold my hand out to Wesley. “We’re off to war, brother.”

  Wes holds my heavy gaze, his features strong as stone as he offers a subtle nod. “Off to war soon enough.” He offers a hearty shake. “But first to Raven’s Eye.”

  “Neither of you is headed there,” Demetri flatlines, his demeanor stoic and firm. “Wesley, your face will endanger your brother. Gage, your face will endanger my grandchildren. The boys will be grown and on the most wanted list before you know it. It’s my fault.” He gives a slight nod as if accepting adulation for the event. “I designed the best of the best. And, of course, I’ll give credit where credit is due. Both Skyla and Chloe had a hand in that endeavor. Isn’t it something? The two of you married them? One for each of you. Each bride receiving her heart’s delight.”

  A sigh expels from me. “First, I might look the way I do because of the fact Skyla and Chloe’s collective ideals were brought to life, but Skyla had a heart for Logan first when she set foot on Paragon. I don’t know what that says about her ideals. And secondly, Chloe was never satisfied with Wes. No offense,” I add, shooting a quick look to my brother. “But to your point, you’re right. I’ll see to it that Kresley gets rescued. Wes and I will stay on the sidelines. And no, I’m not sending Skyla in to do the dirty work.”

  Wesley’s features darken, and he nods to me with the question. “You’re sending Coop?”

  “Nope. I’m sending Logan.”

  The sound of bubbling laughter ascends from behind before I can defend my choice, and we turn to find Sage and Skyla making their way over.

  “Gage Oliver!” Skyla sings my name like a song. “That throne room of yours is to die for. And a stone of sacrifice within spitting distance? Someone means business.” She gives a quick glance to Demetri.

  Skyla is holding our precious daughter’s hand, and Sage is actually smiling as if she had a great time. Just the sight thaws my newly frozen heart.

  Sage offers a sly wink my way, and just like that, I lose all hope of her warming to Skyla. “Mother agrees that this beautiful realm needs a powerful name like Shaddai. She says Your Grace Candace calls her Skyla Dunamis. What do you think of that, Father?” She comes over and takes up my hand instead. “Dunamis? Is Mother all-powerful like God?” Her features harden as she looks to Skyla, and I give her little hand a squeeze. I’m hoping she’ll take the hint and cool it.

  “Your mother is a brilliant woman, Sage.” My heart aches just looking at Skyla’s beautiful face. Her eyes radiate nothing but love for me, and a part of me wishes she hated me. She will eventually. It’s inevitable at this point.

  “Why, thank you.” Skyla gives a slight curtsy. “Speaking of brilliant women—as in my celestial mother, I think it’s high time I shared the surprise I’ve been dying to give you.”

  The surprise is from Candace. Figures. I force an amicable smile. “Would you like to step outside? I’m sure Wes and good old Gramps could entertain the wee one.” I tousle Sage’s glossy thick hair.

  “I’ve got a better idea.” Skyla lifts a brow. “I’ll present it to you right here. I can’t think of a better people to share it with than family.” She crimps a smile at my brother and father, and my stomach turns. I can’t imagine what surprise Candace might have gifted her that she feels eager to share with this crew.

  “Gage.” Skyla digs into her pocket and hides something in her hand as she holds it between us. Her fingers open slowly, revealing that egg-shaped stone that’s been vexing us for the better part of a year, and the air stills in the room.

  Skyla looks to me with eyes as wide as the world, bright as the sun. Her chest palpitates hard in anticipation of what she’s about to say. “My mother has agreed to a celestial covenant between us, Gage.”

  “My God,” I whisper as I pull Skyla in close. “Is this real?” If Candace can give in, then anything is possible. Some way, somehow, Skyla and I can transcend all of the madness. Maybe this is Candace’s attempt to get me out of this hell? This black rock that’s felt like a milestone around my neck suddenly feels like an olive branch. Perhaps that’s what it was meant to be all along.

  “Gage”—Skyla starts slowly—“she will give you seven years as my husband.” My stomach drops. Not nearly long enough. Skyla nods as if it was plenty. “In exchange—you’ll offer her seven years of peace between your people and mine.”

  And there it is. Grief flashes through me, quick as lightning, and I power through it, landing an easy smile on my face—fake as a paper moon.

  “That’s it?” It took all of my effort to keep my voice flat and even, my eyes trained on hers. “Consider it done. So it’s official. We’ll tie the knot on my birthday—midnight—our birthday.” It’s months away. A sick part of me likes the idea of watching Candace sweat. I doubt that Candace wants Skyla to go through with it. But Skyla is determined to choose me. This is simply Candace’s way of throwing Skyla a bone.

  Our birthday. I offer a brief smile to Skyla. It’s also the deadline. Demetri wants me in a covenant with Skyla before I execute the masses.

  “Gage!” Skyla launches at me, her arms collapsing over my body strong as love and death twisted into one. Her body bucks as her tears soak through my shirt. Skyla is overcome with joy, overcome with hope—and here I
am, overcome with agony, with grief. “We’ll have the wedding here. Starting anew in your own dominion. It’s symbolism at its best—Celestra and the Barricade uniting as one.”

  “Once again, I volunteer to officiate if needed.” Demetri is quick to offer up his services. “This will be a covenant bond the likes the universe has never seen. I’ll have the sacred stone enclosed in glass, a wedding chamber for the two of you to consummate your love upon. A curtain of flames will rain from heaven once your union is consummated, sealing your covenant with fire. Symbolism at its best.” He gives a slight bow.

  “It sounds like perfection.” It comes from me unconvincingly.

  I look to my father, my brother—both witness to the lie I just bore to the one I love. I look to Sage, and her lips curve in an all too familiar wicked grin—identical to the one her grandfather wears.

  Holy hell.

  I wrap my arms around Skyla tight, bury my face in her neck, and let the darkness envelop me.

  How did we get here?

  And how will we ever get out?

  Logan

  I usually dream of Skyla—that brilliant smile, how I long to taste it. But last night I dreamed of Paragon, some apocalyptic version set in the future. I was standing outside of Whitehorse, staring up at the lonely looking windows, the entire house a darker version of itself, miserable and demonic, lost in as much disrepair as despair. The doors were askew. The rolling green lawn that I pay dearly to have manicured for Skyla once a week was gone—in its place clots of dirt, patches of baldness exemplifying the disaster at hand. The sky was black and purple, dark clouds blotched the expanse like mold spores, ominous and dangerous. The evergreens swayed orange in the wind. Their time had come and gone, leaving the island filled with kindling, begging to be transformed into a bonfire. A sense of fear gripped me as I recalled the bowling alley. I turned slowly to find it reduced to rubble, the giant tacky barn cut down to bright red matchsticks, the newly installed gym with its bright Las Vegas neon sign hacked down with it, and I groan hard like a dying man. It was the kiss of death in a world I no longer recognized. It was as if I could handle the iron sky, the bronze earth, but removing the bowling alley was tantamount to removing the breath in my lungs.