Something stirs in me, but the pain, the agony of my bowels imploding isn’t dulled in the least.
“Logan,” I groan. He’s waiting for me. My boys. They need me. My people.Gage. I have to live. I have to pull this body together.
I squeeze my eyes shut and summon every ounce of Celestra power in my being.
My body begins to warm unnaturally. The pain becomes intense, sublime, nuclear in every capacity. My mouth opens, and not a cry is able to crests my lips.
Then, in a blaze of glory, a white light slaps through my body as I focus all of my energy on healing my cells, my mind, and my spirit. My lungs suck in as much air as they can, a drowning woman begging for air. My fingers grip this atrocity of a wedding dress as I let out a final cry, but it’s not born of pain, it’s born of victory.
I give a few hard blinks until Marshall and Ezrina come into focus.
“Skyla?” Ezrina leans in, and I nod.
“It’s me,” I pant. “I feel fine. The pain—it’s gone.” I look over to find Chloe in a heap. “My God, help her.”
Ezrina is quick to roll her over and slap her across the face, and sure enough, Chloe moans to life.
“Messenger.” She writhes a moment. “Why do I feel like shit?”
Ezrina nods. “This too shall pass. Come now. We’ve a wedding to tend to.”
“Ms. Bishop”—Marshall helps me up on my wobbly feet as he addresses her—“fetch the proper accouterment.”
“Yes, freakin’ sir.” Chloe stumbles to her feet and staggers a moment. “Woohoo! I’m back, bitches!” she shouts. “And I’m going to kick every ass I see.” She bolts out the door, and for a fleeting moment I wonder if I’ll ever see her or my dress again.
Doesn’t matter. I’d rather get married in the nude.
“Quick,” I say. “Help me get this disaster of a frock off.”
Marshall disrobes me with expert ease, his eyes lovingly sealed over mine.
“You are a delight to have back in your proper form, Ms. Messenger.”
“Thank you, Marshall.” I leap over him with a hug before pulling Ezrina in, too. “Thank you both. Now to get the rest of my world in order.”
Before they can utter a word, Chloe is back and I’m in that glorious gown that fits me like a glove.
“Marshall, Ezrina,” I say as I look to Chloe. “Can I have a moment, please?”
They step out of the room, and it’s just Chloe and me like it has been these last several weeks.
Her hair is mussed and I flatten it with my hands as I pull her in close.
“You,” I say as I land my lips to hers. “Thank you.”
Her chest bucks as she pulls away. Her eyes cut to the window and a look of curiosity piques her attention.
I glance that way and don’t see a single thing.
“Oh my God, it’s her, isn’t it?” I breathe the words out. “Rory—she’s trying to lure you. Don’t do it, Chloe. Don’t listen to her. Look at the nightmare she caused for the both of us. Remember, above all, we fight for the same people. And I’m thankful to you. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”
“Yes, well, it’s safe to say you owe me one.” She eyes those brownies on the ground, and I quickly scoop them up and flush them down the toilet. If I’ve learned anything with Chloe, it’s that it’s best to remove all temptation from her. And when I come out of the bathroom, she’s gone.
I take a look at myself in the mirror and quickly fix my curls by way of spraying them down. I wash the horror of cosmetics off my face and apply a little mascara and a swath of lip-gloss.
“Today is the day I marry my soulmate.” I bite down a painful smile.
“Well then”—a deep voice strums from behind—“you’d better get the heck out there.”
