My heart sinks as I stare up at this beautiful man who holds me in his arms.
“Gage.” I cup his cheeks, and a horrific sadness takes over.
The sound of churning wind, the sound of a thousand tornados morphing into one oncoming disaster builds to our right, and I glance that way to see a swirl of smoke, of celestial dust in pinks and lavenders as it boils and grows. But my attention reverts back to the angel before me, the one who traded his pure wings for webbed weapons of destruction. The angel who forfeited his goodness and crossed over to the hopeless abyss of the wicked.
My gaze washes over his commanding features, those heavy eyes, those full lips I’ve missed so much. Everything my mother has I have, too. And I’m about to test the limits of exactly what that means.
“Come here,” I whisper, landing my lips over his as I offer up a single chaste kiss that sends an electrical current through us in a violent blaze of glory.
I pull Gage into my thoughts, the most intimate chamber of who I am, and land us right back at the beginning, the bowling alley, our private date on Rockaway, the parties he used to accompany me to as my stand-in for Logan.
I give him the grand tour of all those ridiculous clown Fems we ran from, the far scarier ones than that. I take us to the butterfly room where we spent endless hours as those cobalt winged creatures fluttered around us, our first kiss at the party while leaning up against a wall, our hunger for one another tempered by the cool Paragon fog. I dive right into our blossoming love story, those endless stolen kisses, that ill-fated ski trip where I thought I’d give him everything, our time in Seattle with my mother and Tad—the parade of homecoming dances, proms, the hellish Faction war. I pause to catch my breath with that. My mind skids to a halt just inches from that terrible day that Chloe Bishop sliced Logan’s head off.
Allow me,Gage whispers straight into my mind, and he takes us on a tour of a far more carnal nature. It’s clothes off, starting with our wedding night in that seedy hotel, but our love transformed it into holy ground. Gage is over me, under me, gagging me with his body until I cry out for mercy. I pull back and study him as my lungs ache for their next full breath.
A devilish smile hikes up his cheek as he brings me close once again with a marked aggression, his mouth crashing over mine. Gage wants to dominate me, let me know that he has always been in charge and that nothing has changed. We relive every heated moment we spent in the Landon house, the butterfly room once again with far more carnal intentions, and a tour of kisses that spans the beaches of Hawaii, the world. Our short-lived time at the old Walsh house, our labor of love turned nightmare. We had one steamy night—we didn’t sleep a wink. Instead, we went straight to the haunted masquerade ball—the Bastard’s Ball as Demetri heartlessly called it, where Demetri himself paid Dominique Winters to take Gage Oliver to his grave.
An aching cry escapes me as I try to pull away, but Gage strengthens his hold over me.
“Not like that,” he whispers, his eyes searching my features, greedy to drink me down. “That’s not how we end this.”
His mouth covers mine with an urgency I have never experienced before. Gage offers up deep-throated kisses that sink down to my bones, and for a fleeting moment I want them, too. And then I let go, of everything that tethers my heart, everything waiting for me on the planet, everything that my heart tugs for me to remember, and I give everything in me to this juncture of time, this one last hurrah, one new beginning. Gage and I are outside of the bounds of reality, of covenants, of the chains that bind our hearts and minds, outside of the bounds of my people, of his people.
His mouth seals over mine, just as fiercely as it did the day we exchanged our vows, and an instant a rush of heat explodes through him. Gage arches his head back and shouts into the void, with a wild fit of rage—and as he does, a plume of flames expels from his mouth, enveloping us from every side, white-hot and dangerous, and yet not a hair on our heads is singed. We’re engulfed in a holy flame, a blazing star all of our own. It begs the question, are the constellations simply lovers that were and always will be? It’s a beautiful sentiment, and if it’s true, I pray they’re having an easier time than Gage and I have ever had.
My hands press over his chest as I pull back, taking in my beautiful husband and I do still regard him as such. I think that’s the way it is when you lose someone. I never wanted us to part. I certainly didn’t sign up for his reversal of fortune, and neither did he.
Gage nods. “I feel the same.” His finger brushes over my cheek. “You are my wife. I am fighting for you, and I will fight with all that I am to be with you forever. No angel in Heaven, no devil in Hell can stop me.”
His words are hard as ice and sharp as a razor.
A wild wind howls from my right, and I glance over to find a funnel of clouds bubbling and brewing in a rainbow of pastels. And inside of that strange tunnel stars burst to life, rainbows spin in every shape and size, and something about the sight seems familiar. The clouds grow dark, blue like a bruise, then purple. It reminds me so much of—
Marshall.
A breath hitches in my throat.
What’s my mother’s is mine.
My mouth falls open as I look into Gage Oliver’s eyes.
“No angel in Heaven, no devil in Hell?” The idea of a laugh puffs from me.
“Hold onto your wings,” I tell him. “Because I’m about to stop you in your fire-breathing tracks.”
I pull him close and press a desperate kiss to his lips, last one, and my heart aches, my spirit is crushed within me as I linger.
The beat of hooves comes hard and fast in this direction, and I pull back and nod.
“It’s time,” I say.
A pair of wild horses, the finest celestial steeds, pale as death, shine iridescent as they charge their way over.
Gage shakes his head slowly as if trying to put the pieces together.
“My mother’s horses,” I say. “For now they belong to me. What’s hers is mine.” I nod with assurance. “They took Chloe and me somewhere once. Tonight they’ll transport us exactly where we need to be.” I take him by the hand and pull him in their direction. “The exact place you need to be. The nexus of the beginning, where the answers lie—where they wait for us—where they’ve waited for you all along.”
Gage and I hop onto the mammoth beasts, and I lead the charge. The dark navy of the sky recedes to an airy, ethereal shade of blue. My eyes close as I command the steed beneath me, the wind, my mother herself, to lead me where the answers lie.
