All Hail the King (Celestra Forever After Book 6)

by Addison Moore

“She meant every word. That woman has never tolerated me.” She says tolerate in air quotes just as Demetri comes up.

  Logan leans in. “Speaking of people we can’t tolerate.”

  Demetri laughs in response. “I would think you would be thrilled with the outcome of things.” He nods my way. “I hear congratulations are in order.” He looks to my father. “Nathan, always a pleasure.”

  My dad smacks his lips. “I don’t know that I ever felt the same.” He eyes Demetri’s arm as it slithers around my mother’s waist.

  The room shakes, the sky above darkens to pitch, and the boys run over with Sage. Nathan and Barron look frightened, but Sage is giggling as if she knew what was to come.

  “They’re ninnies, aren’t they, Mother?” Her eyes glisten with glee as she looks to me.

  “They’re little boys. They’re not used to this.”

  “I’m used to this, Mother. You should be proud of me.” There’s a mocking tone to her voice as she takes up my hand, but I relish the feel of her flesh even if she is devoid of it at the moment. I can still feel her. My love for her flows like an endless current from me to her. I will love Sage no matter what becomes of her. She is mine, and that she will forever be.

  A trumpet sounds and lightning flashes up in the expanse above. The black sky sheds its stars, and the white jags of light, the spray of lavender stardust are far more breathtaking than any fireworks spectacular. The sound of dark, deep voices begin chanting in a choir, strange words I can’t decipher, giving the room a horror movie flare it was lacking.

  “Come”—Sage takes up Logan’s hand as well—“we must gather around the throne. Father’s time has come. This will be resplendent, a tale to be told from one generation to the next.”

  I glance to Logan, trying my hardest to refrain from sarcasm as her hand is welded to mine.

  My mother takes the boys by the hand and follows along, and soon the room is swirling with a dense blue fog, making this entire scene feel like a very bad dream.

  Demetri steps up onto the platform that houses that egregious golden throne. It looks like a medieval relic best-forgotten, something a psychotic dreamed up for himself, and as if on cue the heavily carved throne begins to transform. The gold gleams so bright it becomes like the sun. Spears rise from the back and from the feet until it’s pointed sharp in six places and I wonder about that number, man’s number.

  A wall of flames erupts behind the throne and to the left and right the figure of a man, a shadow exaggerated in size, and as he approaches, he grows to the size of an ordinary man. But this is no ordinary man walking through the flames.

  Chloe staggers her seemingly enormous girth onto the platform and Demetri holds out a hand to stop her, causing her to stumble and fall on her side.

  “Gage!” she calls out and the gentry, the partially human guests gasp, but no one comes to her aid.

  Demetri lifts a finger and Emma traipses his way. I crane my neck and spot Barron looking dapper in a black suit. He looks every bit as if he’s at his only son’s funeral, and he might as well be. The funeral of the soul is far worse than the simple act of burying a body. But with Gage, there will be no burial. We will be force-fed his madness now and forevermore, and only I can stop him.

  Emma has her orange hair pulled back and it shines in the fire as if it, too, were flickering and alive with flames. Her smile never ceases. Her movements are smooth and lithe as she makes her way to Demetri like a schoolgirl about to be asked to the dance by the cutest boy in demon school.

  The choir quickens as Gage himself steps out of the flames, and the room, all of Eversor, and the universe erupt with cheers. Gage holds up a hand and the shouts from the crowd die down.

  His expression is sober. He looks beautiful, stunning, like a work of art that came back only to kill its creator. His dark hair gleams with blue highlights that accent his glowing eyes. His body looks massive—a bodybuilder lies underneath that black suit. His tie glows like a tongue of light. I’ve never seen anything so breathtaking, not even in Marshall’s vast collection of supernatural attire. He takes a seat and the room gives a collective breath. The choir picks up to something lighter, but the chanting grows more aggressive.

  Demetri bears his fangs at the crowd. “First and foremost, welcome to the coronation of the King of Eversor, my flesh and blood, your immaculate savior. I want to thank his mother.” He picks up Emma’s hand and kisses the back of it. “For your service to the kingdom, you will be forever treasured and remembered for the charitable work you’ve done.”

  “See that?” I whisper to my mother. “Even Demetri thinks that sleeping with him is a charitable act.” Because clearly no one should ever do it. The universe has the potential to unravel if you do.

  Mom is quick to shake her head as she chooses to ignore me.

  Demetri looks our way, his dark eyes laughing at me the way they always do. At least he’s consistent.

  “I will give my first true love, Candace Messenger, the floor to say her piece before we proceed with the ceremony.”

  I gasp as I glance to my glowing look-alike. “What’s this first love business?”

  But Candace ignores me as she strides on by, stepping up onto the altar, closer to the throne than either Demetri or Emma. It looks threatening the way she’s charging to the glowing throne, and the throne itself flickers as if it senses that her very presence represents a threat to it as well.

  She turns partially to face the crowd, her shoulders still poised toward Gage. “Hear ye all of the noble men and women, the gentry, the heavenly hosts, the Nephilim brothers and sisters gathered to witness this spectacle today. I shall recite verses from the Good Book.” Her eyes shoot venom to Demetri before she casts a scathing glance to Gage and he flinches as if she struck him, as if I struck him. I know that’s what he sees. Me in a new mysterious flesh. “ Listen here!” My mother’s voice thunders horrifically over the great expanse and the choir stops with their tyrannical bellowing. “The Lord is a jealous and avenging God. The Lord takes vengeance and is filled with wrath. The Lord takes vengeance on his foes and maintains his wrath against his enemies. The Lord is slow to anger and great in power. The Lord will not leave the guilty unpunished. His way is in the whirlwind and the storm, and clouds are the dust of his feet. The book of Nahum.” She lifts her chin and peers down at the crowd who remains stunned into submission.

  Way to go, Candace. Threatening the dark side with a word of warning from the big guy was just the right touch if you ask me. My eyes flit to Gage and I catch him looking at me. Our gaze locks, strong as steel—I can sense him in there. He’s fighting this on some level—I can feel it. This isn’t who he really is. It’s an act. If I wasn’t aware of it before, every cell in my body feels it now. There’s no way I can let him go through with this.

  I have to do something. Anything. I’m desperate to save him from himself, from Demetri. The Gage I know would sacrifice everything for me, including his soul. My God, is he doing that? What could he possibly believe to make that happen? There is no other logical explanation, is there?

  Gage, I call out to him mentally with everything in me, his eyes still magnetically sealed over mine. And then the circus comes to town. Chloe steps in front of me and acts as a barrier between us. I don’t see why not; she is in every single way.

  Demetri lifts a hand and the demonic choir starts in on their Gregorian sounding chant once again. The room darkens to pitch. The lavender lighting up above tangles and weaves itself into a crown that flickers wildly over the throne. Gage lifts his head a notch, his eyes suddenly filled with a harsh blue light. His body electrifies, his muscles shake as an electric blue surge pulses within him. Demetri is saying something, speaking in a language that I’m not privy to. He’s shouting, demanding something of Gage until the veins in Demetri’s neck distend like cables.

  I have never seen that man this animated, and it alarms me on a whole new level. The floor begins to vibrate, bouncing heavily beneath our feet, and scream
ing ensues. I can hear the boys giggling away, laughing, and it comforts me to know they’re not afraid.

  A wall of fire erupts around the throne. A curtain of blue, the hottest kind of flame. It’s impenetrable. A symbol that lets the rest of us know that he will forever be untouchable. Life keeps evolving, and not in any good way. It keeps force-feeding us a newer, uglier, reality, and it makes me wonder when it will stop.

  When will this madness end and restore itself to a beautiful beginning? How I hunger for all things to return to the way they were. How I wish I could rewind time and alter every wicked version of it. We have been played so well, so very efficiently. But nothing in me believes that this is the way it was supposed to play out. I can feel it in my bones, in the deepest part of my soul, we were made for more than this. We were never meant to burn to cinder. We certainly were never meant to destroy one another. We are not perfect enemies—that is a lie from the pit of hell. It cannot be true. It simply cannot.

  Gage is leaving, whatever version of him we had, and he will be anew, a monster that none of us will ever comprehend. This is it. Whatever transformation, desecration is taking place—it’s about to be completed, solidified for all eternity.

  Gage Oliver would have passed from one level of destruction to the next. I have to stop him. I’ll lay down my life if I have to and sacrifice everything. Deep down, I still believe he would do it for me. Regardless, I will do it for him. Fate has given me no choice.

  I take a step forward, then another. Logan lunges after me and wraps himself around me. I can feel his love for me as sure as God. Logan and I are essentially one person. I think we’ve always been that way. I think that’s what it means to have another half, another part of you that together you make yourselves better, stronger, far more powerful than you could ever be apart. And yet, both Logan and I know there is a third component to who we are. There always has been, and that person is Gage.

  “Skyla, no,” Logan breathes it hot in my ear. “There’s nothing we can do right now. We will fix this shit later.”

  The room rocks abruptly. A gust of heated air blows past us. It’s as if all of the elements in this dominion are unraveling, depending on Gage to put them back together again. Little do they know Gage can’t even fix himself. But I don’t believe he’s irrevocably broken.

  The moment I lose all hope of ever rescuing him from his own destruction is the moment I discredit everything we once were. I swore an undying love, and you can’t erase that. You have to keep believing in it or it never truly existed. Of course, these are things I would never admit to myself in the light of day, with my feet on Paragon soil. It’s easier to admit these truths when reality is a far cry away.

  Marshall strides up. “Ms. Messenger, there is no protection from those flames.”

  Candace appears by my side. “Not even I can protect you, Skyla. Do not do this. Think about your future—the future of your people. You are not his. He is not yours. You have a life inside of you. You must not disregard all of your treasures for something made of rusted iron.”

  The flames rise higher and Gage is no longer visible, gone amidst the blaze, and I can see something happening within them, a brilliant white light shifting and turning.

  “Gage!” I cry out as I explode from Logan’s stronghold. Not even his Celestra strength was a match for my zest to save the one we love. I leap toward the flames and I’m enveloped in a warm bath of light, rising higher and higher, into the sky until I see what has me in its grasp.

  Gage Oliver is no more. Instead, I am held high over Eversor—wrapped in the tail of the monster he’s become.

  The dragon.

  18

  Gage

  The blackness of space, of the unknown universe surrounds me as the stars, new undiscovered constellations spray out in the distance, above, below, and all around us.

  For one tender moment, it’s just Skyla and me—along with the profound level of calm and silence only this side of heaven can bring. If I try hard enough, I could believe I’ve rewound time, one year ago exactly and we are still happy, nestled in our bed with the boys warm between us. We were so whole, so very content, so madly in love. A part of me doesn’t believe she shares with Logan what she shared with me. What we had was a powerful elixir for both of our souls. It was explosive, and at the end of the day, it was outright dangerous. And yet, here we are. A crown for me. Hell for her. And in all of the ironies the dark side of the universe could pull off, I am Skyla’s worst nightmare.

  I land Skyla lovingly in a swarm of clouds that I command to usher her safely back into Logan’s arms.

  What the hell was she thinking? Had I not been paying attention—had I blinked a second too long, I wouldn’t have seen her running into the fire as if she were immune to its powers. But I never take my eyes off of Skyla. Even when she thinks I’m not watching, I’m there. I didn’t hesitate to bring her up with me on my ascent. Hell, it’s probably best she ran into the flames. I would have brought her anyway. After all, she is my queen. She may not know it. She certainly doesn’t feel it—God, I can never let her do that. Once she penetrates the fort of my emotions, I might just cave and tell her everything. Skyla would never fight for her people if she knew it would be the cause for eternal separation for us. But then, inevitably other truths would roll out. Skyla would soon learn that Marshall, perhaps even her mother—although I find it hard to swallow that one—would be bound to hell. Skyla would be in far more anguish than she knew what to do with. There are some things that are simply too heavy for us to carry, and the knowledge of this horrible truth is it for Skyla.

  Eversor garners my attention once again. The stage of the universe, the white-hot spotlight on yours truly. It feels like a joke, like a nightmare that not even my twisted mind could conjure. What in the hell is happening to me? What in the hell has happened? Surely, I haven’t become the Celestra killer, the hunter of Skyla’s people—the very people I swore would be my own.

  Her sweet face flits through my mind as if some dark force were holding up a picture. It says remember your love for me. And I do. I must spend eternity with Skyla and the kids. I simply must. This time on earth is a blip on the screen. So, what if I’m a monster for five minutes so long as I get an unlimited amount of time to rectify my misdeed. I’m sure that at the end of the day none of this will feel real.

  In fact, after I ask forgiveness of each soul I caused heartache to, I plan on forgetting all about this spiritual malfeasance. I’m not holding onto the guilt or the pain because the agony would be too much. And while I’m on Paragon or in Eversor, the demonic dominion my father has granted me, I will compartmentalize. Each death, each strike against Skyla’s people is nothing more than a tactical move on my part. The wheels of this wicked war must keep moving, and I am the one pushing this broken-down train toward the finish line. And I will use all of my love for Skyla to fuel the effort. And that, my friend, is another ironic truth. How I wonder what Skyla will do and say when she discovers where my true motives lie. I plan on telling her within minutes of her homecoming. As soon as she leaves her body and heads for heaven, I’ll be there waiting for her, my love shining brighter than the sun. Perhaps that will be the biggest surprise of them all.

  My form alters. I morph from the serpent back to the handsome devil Demetri Edinger designed me to be as I land with thrust back in that golden throne. All of Eversor shouts with joy, with false adulation as Demetri himself comes at me with a crown in hand. It looks weighted, a gold rim with a row of crosses protruding up from it in a holy rhythm. He lands it over my head and it feels as if the weight of the world is pressing down on me, painful as a crown of thorns.

  More cheers from the celestial peanut gallery as Demetri beams with that never-ending grin of his. I see it now for what it really is, an I gotcha—you’ve been had this entire time. Demetri knew the end from the beginning. It’s no wonder he hasn’t worn out that shit-eating grin of his yet.

  He turns to the gentry and lifts a hand. “In the
name of all things that are right, good, and holy, I bid each one of you—all hail the king!”

  A raucous roar comes from the bourgeoning crowd and then the unthinkable happens. In gentle waves, they bow down to me, not all of them, of course. Logan, Skyla, and a handful of others remain standing, but their eyes are trained on me.

  A slow smile bleeds onto my lips as I shoot a vindictive look their way. The game continues. It picks up pace. I must continue to be the thorn in their side, the one the Lord shall not remove because it makes their dependence on Him stronger. With each act of wickedness, I am doing them a favor, saving the damn day. I wonder if evil justifies its actions that way? A wicked song as old as time.

  Then in an instant, a celestial jubilation breaks out. The crowd is mingling, the angels are singing, and Candace is laughing with her cohorts as the party gets underway, full swing. The scent of smoked meat, the yeast of freshly baked bread, and the scent of a delicious Thanksgiving meal takes over as tables are filled with glorious food that even my stomach is rumbling for.

  I rise up out of my seat rather unceremoniously and head to Demetri. Sage is occupied with the boys, each doing his best to sit in her miniature throne and she’s not having it.

  “Son.” Demetri grins until his entire face is enveloped with that crooked smile. “You’ve done it. All of our work has come to fruition. You have crushed Celestra under your heel, you have the highest level of honor, and you have an army of angelic forces at your disposal. I have laid the world at your feet. You’re welcome.”

  “You forgot one thing”—I say as I step in next to him so I can observe the crowd below us—“I don’t have Skyla.”

  His eyes flit to mine, and if I’m not mistaken, I felt a knife in my spirit, a subconscious threat simply with the look in his eyes.

  “Do not mention it ever again. You have what you were destined to have. You both had a choice.” He nods over to her where she’s speaking with Laken and Coop. My eyes scan the vicinity furtively until I spot Logan with Wes. My heart may always be set toward Skyla, but it’s set to seek out Logan next. The boys, Sage, they are simply mine—as good as me. I’ve absorbed their beings, grafted them onto my soul, but Skyla and Logan are just out of my grasp for a time and I hate that.