“I’m not concerned with Emma, and you shouldn’t be either. What you should concern yourself with is her son—your husband. You do realize the fact freezing him out isn’t going to make things better any time soon. It’s only going to cast a divide amongstyou.”
“Are you aware of what he’sdone?”
“Yes. And areyouaware of the fact that marriages are built oncompromises?”
“A compromise of this magnitude does not a happy marriage make. It makes life a living hell.” Perhaps quiteliterally.
Holden and Serena’s squawking hits an all-time high and both my mother and I hiss at them to keep it down. The boys are happily cooing away, and I’d like to keep it thatway.
“Happy marriage?” My mother looks stumped by the concept. “Skyla, there hasn’t been one of those in all of human history. Every union bears its strife. If anything, an unhappy marriage is a common lot in life. Show me a couple who espouses a happy façade and I will show you a couple of bald-facedliars.”
“Oh, come on. Gage and I were plenty happy before things went to shit. Pardon my French once again.” My mother loathes my salty sailor talk just as much as Marshall seemsto.
Her hair glows a bright iridescent pink before defusing as if the expletive had the power to initiate a celestial riot inher.
“Were you happy?” She gives a few rapid blinks my way as if I were trying her patience, and I have no doubt I am. “Or were you striving to be so? When have you had a moment’s peace,Skyla?”
“Before Dad died.” I didn’t even have to think about that one. “Ever since I set foot on Paragon—not to get literary on you, but it’s been the best of times and the worst oftimes.”
“That’s the burden of life, my love. Everyone has their cross to bear. It just so happens that yours consists of the wings of a thousand Nephilim. Do rectify things with Gage. It hurts the Father to see such strife. He is a proponent of maintaining earthly covenants.” A wicked grin curves her lips. “But try as you might, that matrimonial good time isn’t allowed anywhere near the afterlife. Resurrection will be bliss, I tell you. Not a single leash to bind you.” She gives a wistful shake of the head. “As for upturning the cemetery, don’t worry about ruffling Emma’s celestial feathers. And as for your husband, I may be advocating your reunion, but I am far from pleased withhim.”
“Was this—wasn’t this—um—could this have been—” No matter how hard I try, I can’t formulate the words to ask the question. Most likely because I hate thequestion.
“Was it his destiny?” Her brows arch clear up to her forehead, an Olympian-worthy feat if you askme.
A slow nod is all I canoffer.
“Skyla.” She closes her eyes as she draws me close. I cannot remember too many times that my mother has held me this way, at least not post those three months on earth where she was my primary caretaker, and I recall nothing of those. But this moment, her warmth, that vibration she exudes, which is something far sweeter than what Marshall is capable of, I could sleep well in my mother’s arms. “Destiny is a finicky thing. It’s only as stable as the obedience of itsrecipient.”
“Obedience.” My personal rebellion comes to mind. “I’m veering from fate.” I pull back to get a better look at what amounts to my reflection. “Gage can veer,too.”
Holden and Serena squawk up a storm before she cananswer.
“It’s that time.” She smacks them both over the head in turn. “Feathers to feathers, no sins to atone—rise to your feet in flesh and inbone.”
A billowing fog permeates the room, bitter and blue that dissipates as quick as it came, and in its place, is a fully formed Holden andSerena.
A heavy breath escapes me as Holden and Serena marvel at their fleshly appendages. He looks every bit as lanky, and mind youKraggery, with that squared jaw, that dirty blond hair, and those mean-spirited eyes—although, at the moment those eyes look pleasantly impressed with his new form. And Serena looks every bit the Nordic goddess her pale feathers would have you believe she was. She’s a beautiful sight to behold. I just hope she’s still enamored with the cranky Kragger next toher.
“You did it!” I pant as the boys begin to cry. I pick up Nathan, and my mother takesBarron.
“Of course, I didit.”
“Thank you, Candace.” Holden falls to his knees. He looks every bit as familiar as the day he was banished into Nevermore’s form. “I beg of you to free my sister, if only for atime.”
“Only for a time is correct.” She sneers toward Mia and Melissa’s room. “She’s willing.” She lifts a finger, and the faint sound of my sisters’ screaming permeates through thewall.
“Emerson’s here?” I clutch onto Nathan a little tighter. “Good God! This had better endwell.”
“It does end.” My mother hands off Barron toSerena.
A horrible thought comes to mind. “What about Giselle? My God, Emma is going to kill me if she discovers I’ve traded her precious daughter in for a Kragger.” I glance to Holden. “Nooffense.”
“None taken,” he offers a cheesywink.
My mother balks at the idea. “I’ve a temporal home for Emerson. She’s merely a visitor. Precious Giselle is alive andwell.”
Thank goodness. Not that I really fear Emma—but G truly is precious and I’d hate to blink her out of existence on awhim.
