Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella) (5 page)

“That’s not why I’m here.” He strides over, glaring at me because he knows damn well what’s required of him. I try to hide the shit-eating grin that’s budding on my lips. I couldn’t think of a better way to stick it to Dudley, even if it’s nothing more than tongue in cheek at this point. We both know how things really play out. “You requested my presence?”

“Are you…?” Skyla’s mouth falls open. She’s putting the pieces together faster than she can finish the thought. “Is he your supervising spirit?”

I close my eyes for a moment. “We had an argument one day—”

“It was brutal,” Dudley interjects, still needling me with those beady eyes of his. “Fists were exchanged. You’re quite lucky a mortal blow wasn’t dealt.”

I nod into his dig because at the end of the day, a mortal blow wasn’t necessary.

“Yes, well”—score one for Dudley—“I’m dead now, so it’s a moot point.” I cast my eyes right back where they belong, on Skyla. “Anyway, we realized we were fighting for the same team.” True story. “We both want you safe.” I don’t really mind Dudley all that much, but no need to fess up now. We’ll have plenty of time to hug it out later, on the flip side of life, and, unfortunately for me, that will be sooner than anticipated.

“Once he committed to the Countenance on your behalf, I knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you secure.” Dudley continues yapping as if anyone cared. “Although we haven’t always seen eye to eye,” he says that last part like a threat. “You’ve no idea how close I came to castrating him after that little stunt he pulled with the Justice Alliance.”

“Here, Marshall.” Skyla takes off her necklace, desperate to get him to shut the fuck up. “I want you to be safe, right here on Paragon. I’m gifting it to you. It’s yours now.” The Eye of Refuge winks and glows, and my stomach wants to explode in a vat of acid in response to Skyla’s random act of kindness. The hedge is for her alone, and my heart sinks like granite just witnessing the exchange.

Shit. This is not how it’s supposed to be. That necklace should never leave her hands.

I shoot a look to Dudley that says I’ll knife off your balls if you accept that.

The moon darkens to soot. A purple haze sweeps through the vicinity subtle as a tornado. A bolt of lightning touches down just shy of Dudley, and I blink a wry smile because, for a second, I thought I was getting an early wedding gift from God, himself—one deep-fried Sector. But I’m not that lucky, never have been, never will be. Instead, the pillar of light bursts to life by way of long, flowing hair that rivals Skyla’s with its beauty, glowing skin, eyes like a tiger, or demon, take your pick—it’s Skyla’s mother—Candace Messenger, herself.

“What’s this I hear about a wedding?” Candace growls it out like a threat while her citrus-sweet scent strangles our senses.

Skyla softens in my arms, relaxed and happy to see her.

“For you.” Marshall is quick to kiss Candace’s ass by gifting her the hedge, and I breathe a sigh of relief because I know for a fact her mother wants Skyla to have it as much as I do.

“Very well.” She takes it from him and examines it in the anemic moonlight. It doesn’t wink or blink or do any of its pony tricks for her. It just lies there, playing dead, and I’m half-afraid she’ll discount its worth—forget about putting it back where it truly belongs, around Skyla’s neck. “I see you’re marrying Logan.” She smiles lovingly at her daughter, and this warms me as if she had verbalized her approval of me. I guess in the end I want it. I want it more than anything because she’s the reason I’m here to begin with.

“May I have your daughter’s hand in marriage?” I reel Skyla in close and warm her with my hands.

“Of course.” She looks perplexed that I’d even ask. “That’s the very reason I brought you to Paragon. She’s the reason your life was spared and returned to you in another time.” She emulates Skyla’s million-watt smile, and every cell in my body rejoices to hear those words I’ve longed for—I want to replay them on a loop, shout them out for the world to hear. Water has come to the desert. I was made for Skyla—for
this
moment. “For you, Skyla. Consider it a wedding gift.” She plants a kiss on the pendant, and it miraculously appears back around Skyla’s neck, dangling from the chain, right along with my mirrored heart. “Get on with the proceedings.” She nods at Dudley. “I’m anxious to see these two bound in union.”

That makes two of us.

“In a moment.” Dudley doesn’t waste time prolonging his misery. Figures. I’d expect nothing less. “My turn to bequeath the bride a gift. Come love.” He takes Skyla by the hand, and they take off behind the bushes. God only knows what lewd and crude gift he’s trying to force on her—probably his tongue. But I can feel Skyla’s sad ache pouring from her hand to mine before she took off with him. She’s feeling it for him whether I like it or not. Dudley burrowed into her heart while I wasn’t looking, just like Gage did. I poured my guts out to Candace about it a few weeks back, and she assured me there was a reason, a season. It was that last part that unnerved me. I wish all of Skyla’s “seasons” were spent with me.

“Rumor has it there’s a wedding here tonight,” a male voice quakes through the night, and I turn to find Nathan Messenger—Skyla’s father.

“You’re here.” I swell with relief. It wouldn’t have felt official without him, not to me and, for sure, not to Skyla. “May I have your daughter’s hand in marriage?”

“Are you kidding?” He slaps me over the back. “For you, I’ll throw in the rest of her.” He offers a warm embrace, and I take it. I have no memory of my own father ever holding me like this, and, if anything, Nathan feels like a close second. As much as I love Barron and appreciate him raising me, it never felt quite like this. Something about Nathan has always felt like family. He felt like my dad.

Dudley and Skyla emerge from behind the juniper bush, and my heart bottoms out at her sheer beauty.

Holy mother of God. Skyla Messenger never looked so stunning. Her hair is swept back. She’s wearing a luminescent gown that looks as if it’s been ripped right off a Greek goddess. Skyla shimmers with joy as she makes her way to me. She’s trembling. Her breathing is fast and loose, and she exudes an unstoppable joy, all for me.

She cuts her gaze across to her father.

“Dad!” Skyla lunges at him with a hug, nearly knocking the two of them right off the ledge.

He plants a kiss on the top of her head. “Do you want this, Skyla?”

“With everything in me,” she pants through a smile.

“Then I gift you my blessing.” He lands another kiss over her forehead and walks Skyla to my side.

Now I’m the one who’s trembling. My breathing barrels way past fast and loose, and my joy skyrockets straight to the throne of God. This is it. This is the moment I’ve waited for.

Nathan smiles in my direction before releasing Skyla to me like a chain of love. She’s mine now if only for a little while. I pull her in close, careful as blown glass.

“Skyla, Logan?” Dudley bows into the two of us before glancing back at Candace. She gives the slight trace of a nod, and it feels as if the floodgates of Heaven just opened. “Would the two of you be willing to share this life and all of its riches, all of its grievances until the good Lord sees fit to sever the cord and call one of you home to paradise?” That person being me, but right now I’m all about the present.

“Yes.” I galvanize my gaze over Skyla. “It would be an honor.” More than an honor. It’s a fucking privilege.

“And, Skyla?” Dudley frowns into her, but she’s too lost in the moment to notice. “Do you desire Logan to be your husband?” He sneers as if repulsed by the idea, and no doubt he is.

She gives my hands a quick squeeze that says yes before her lips ever do. Skyla is already lost in a sea of what’s to come. I can see the sheets burning in her eyes, plain as day, and it’s my body raking over hers that’s causing those flames. She’s three steps ahead of the game, but, then, she always has been, and so have I. This is the moment we’ve waited for—longed for—our hearts finally beating as one.

“I do.” Her words swim out like a dream into the night, and I can hardly believe I’m here to witness the event, let alone live it—mostly.

Dudley lets out a dull roar as if he were about to morph into a dragon and eviscerate me for the hell of it. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t taken it off the table just yet.

“You may now loosely embrace the bride,” he grunts it out as if he were in pain. I hope his balls ache from the effort.

“Sector?” Candace all but stomps on his shoe.

“Very well.” Dudley holds his hands out toward us, and the world, Paragon, begins to warp like a dream.

You’ll owe me in spades until kingdom come, Oliver.
Dudley’s voice curls in my subconscious.
Mark my words, you’ll be kissing my feet sooner than later. Appreciate this brief morsel. She’s your wife
—
but only for now.

Just a few hours ago I was imagining myself stone cold in a casket, and yet here I am with a renewed lease on life, if only for a little while.

“Kiss the bride,” Dudley says it soft as a faraway echo just as we disappear.

A candlelit room appears, wide and gaping. The air is scented with a hint of fire and roses as the flames flash over the walls like a reflex.

I’m soaking wet from the chest down with Skyla lying on top of me in an oversized bathtub—an entire warm ocean just for the two of us. We’re still in our clothes, me in my Levis and her in a crisp, white gown that has effectively been reduced to vellum, nothing but wax paper that glows with the color of her skin underneath. Her fingers are knotted my hair. Her sweet head rests over my chest, and I don’t want to move or breathe—just soak in the magic of the moment.

Rose petals float in our wake, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off my glittering bride. Her skin gives the sweet smell of perfume mixing with that natural scent of cinnamon her body manufactures, and my dick roars to life like an engine.

Skyla gives a triumphant smile as she lifts out of the water just enough to take in the gargantuan bathroom. An oversized window sits to our left, and we gaze out at the midnight world together. A wash of grey sweeps over the landscape, soft white lights bleed out their beams, creating a halo over everything they touch.

“Where are we?” she whispers, wrapping her arms around me as if she were grounding herself to an anchor. I dig my fingers into her hips. If this is a dream, like I’m afraid it is, she might float away, and I’ll have to peel her off the ceiling.

I lean over her shoulder to take in the view a little better. The streets are all but deserted for the night. And from this bird’s eye view, the winking city lights flirt with the night. I’m guessing we’re four stories high judging by the size of those trees surrounding the base of the hotel. Then I see it. Across the street, lit up like a lamp, is the very place Skyla and I visited on one particular light drive—the Colosseum. My stomach thumps like a heartbeat at the sight of it.

“We’re in Rome, Skyla.” I point over to it, and I can feel her mood plummet just a bit as she relives the memories from that ill-fated night. I can see it playing out in her mind like a bad movie reel. Skyla and I birthed a carnage that would echo through time and eventually cost us more than we could ever understand. It was all my shit-brained idea that landed us in the mess. It usually is when trouble is on the horizon, so neither of us should be too surprised at what it might cost us.

She tilts her head as if the overgrown theater amused her.
It stamps across the landscape like a brown stone moon that fell to the planet long ago and no one really cared about.

A smile tugs at my lips. I love listening in on Skyla’s thoughts. She’s become a master of holding them back just like Gage—just like me, but when she lets one slip through the cracks, I always appreciate it. I hope she lets them slip tonight because I want all of her. As much as my body wants to thrust inside her, my brain wants in on the action, too. I’ve dreamed of making love to Skyla, of the magic it could be with our bodies and synapses firing in tune. We could set the whole damn world on fire with our bodies, our minds, our hearts. We’ve always been a powerhouse in the making, and tonight would prove it.

“Rome,” she whispers it, fresh as a dream.
This is exactly where I told Logan I wanted to spend our honeymoon one day.
“Thank you.” She sweeps her hand over my chest and lands those glowing blue eyes over mine—twin pools, deep with affection just for me. “I believe you owe me a kiss.”

And here we are—at what will forever be known as my favorite moment in time. I can’t hold back the smile that’s been dying to take over, one second longer, as I pull her close to me—her mouth a breath away from mine.

This is bliss.

When the fire of my life dies down, somewhere in the dust and cinder, in the aftermath of who I would soon become, this beautiful memory will live forever.

“I believe
you
owe
me
a kiss.” I don’t wait for a rebuttal or a single thought to cross either of our minds. Instead, I lean in and sweep my lips over hers. Skyla crashes over me and detonates like a powder keg. Pure kisses. Eternal kisses. Kisses approved and ordained by God, himself, and not a soul in the world can contest our efforts. For a moment I doubted we were possible—like an ocean over the sky. But this is our time, Skyla and me.