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Authors: Addison Moore

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It doesn’t even sound like Logan. I study him a moment. So cuttingly handsome just looking at him sends a spiral of heat through me. 

“Do you fake being a teenager?” I try and break up the uncomfortable air between us. Everything used to be so natural and now it’s like we’re something less than strangers.

He looks up and smiles before snatching off his glasses.

“What brings you here?” God, he almost sounds more like Dr. Oliver than himself.

“Looking for Gage.” I cast a solemn glance down at his work, inspiring him to quickly flip over his notebook. “So much for trust.”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“It usually does.”

“Not this time,” he politely corrects.

“What happened to all that faction war we hung our love on bullshit?” I say it soft, almost on a dare.

“It’s not bullshit. It’s just…I’d rather not share my notes with you. I still love you Skyla, that will never change.” He manages to profess his love for me with a cold look on his face that suggests the opposite is true.

“Have I done something to offend you? Did I drag you to a stone altar and try to sacrifice you in front of dozens of psychopaths? Oh, wait, you did that to me.” Really, I don’t know where Logan gets off treating me like I’m some idiotic child.

He blinks into his frustration.

“I need to know that you forgive me, Skyla. That you understand I was trying to help you that night, not hurt you.”

“Or what?”

“Or I can’t live with myself.”

“Why do you care what I think? No one else seems to think you’re an asshole.”

“The court of public opinion means nothing. I only care what you think.”

“And if I tell you I love you, what would you do?”

“I’d sleep again for the first time in weeks. I take that back, I wouldn’t be able to sleep because I’d be too damn excited.” He lacks conviction when he says it. It’s like he knows there’s no possibility of it happening.

“I hope you sleep well.” I want to say something more, something profound, but I’m not entirely sure he wouldn’t interpret it the wrong way.

“Heard you spent the night with Gage.” His eyes widen with expectation.

“I did.” There it is—the root of his melancholy.

“Heard he closed the deal.” Logan’s face bleeds out all expression, leaving the trace of something just this side of hurt.

“Is that what he said?” I catch my breath. Logan’s cologne swirls around me, strangles me with his grief.

He gives a brief nod as a spark of moisture glints in his eyes.

Heat explodes all over my body, ignites my cheeks into balls of raging fire.

“That’s not what happened,” I stammer out the words.

He twists his lips as though he doubts my version of the story.

“You think I’m lying?” I can hardly catch my breath at the thought.

“I don’t think you’re lying.” He rests his elbows onto the table and compresses his lips. “I just happen to believe Gage.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Cuts Like a Knife   

 

I wait for Gage in my bedroom. He drives Chloe home and drops off his car before teleporting over. Poor Gage thinks this is business as usual—hang out with me in the event the Counts outside my door decide to storm in and hack me to pieces. But I’m so angry I can’t see straight.

“Hi beautiful.” He makes his way over. It’s the first time he’s appeared directly in front of me. It caught me off guard, and managed to disintegrate all of the caustic feelings percolating inside me for the past few hours. “Got something for you.” He swings his arm around, revealing a yellow bottle of chocolate milk.

Great. I can never be mad at Gage. It’s pointless even trying.

“I love this stuff,” I say, as he hands it to me.

“I know,” he crawls up next to me, circling his arms around my waist. “She had me take her to the convenience store, then we hit Narrows.”

“You left the party,” I whisper. Makes sense why I couldn’t find them.

“Thank God it’s over. We can get back to reality.” There’s a darkness in his tone as though the situation were more sinister than he’d like to share.

“What’s going on?”

“Let’s not go there.” He rests his lips on my head.

I sit down the drink and snuggle into him.

“OK, let’s change the subject,” I say. “I talked to Logan tonight.”

His eyes expand to the size of silver dollars.

“So, did something happen between you and me while I was sleeping the other night?” I coil a lock of his hair around my finger as I ask the question, give a little tug at the end because there can only be one answer.

He bites down on his lower lip and lets a strangled silence envelop us.

“Sorry,” he presses it out in a hoarse whisper, but his guilty smile lingers long after the apology.

“Why? Why would you lie about something like that?”

He shakes his head.

“There’s got to be a reason,” I sigh. “Is it because you wanted it and I disappointed you?”

“No.” He presses his hands into the small of my back. “Nothing like that, I promise. You were perfect.”

“Then? Please explain. Because if this is nothing but closing a deal to you…” I shake my head with a heart full of sorrow.

“No, you’re everything,” he says, brushing his fingers across my face, examining me in a pale vat of moonlight. “I love you so much. I would never think of hurting you.”

“Then tell me what made you say something so ridiculous.”

“He was just giving me a hard time,” he shrugs, “says if it were him you couldn’t have stopped yourself. There would be no wait, no perfect moment because every moment would be perfect even the backseat of a car.”

My heart stops. I can’t breathe. If Logan so much as whispered to Gage about the dream I had about us in the backseat of his Mustang, I’m going to hang him by his intestines at the next Count roundtable. He can be
my
sacrifice.

“What else?”

“That’s it, I swear.” He holds up a hand.

I bury my face inside his neck and take in his scent as his body warms me.

I’ll deal with Logan later.

“He’s wrong.” It comes out muffled when I say it. The words vibrate over his skin. “I only want you, and I want it to be perfect.”

He pulls me back so I can see him, breaks out his intoxicating dimples for the occasion and whispers, “I know.”

“So how are things going with you guys? You were like brothers and now you’re…” I shake my head. I can’t find the words to fill the void I’ve caused in their relationship.

“We’re still like brothers. He’s a little punk that needs to be put in his place once in a while.”

I give a little laugh. Gage is teasing I can tell but I know deep inside there’s animosity between them.

“So, what’s going to happen,” Gage tilts into me, “when he finally figures out he can’t have you and brings home someone else.”

“What do you mean?” I swallow hard. It feels as though Gage just reached down my throat and yanked my heart out—is holding it out for me to examine it.

“What I mean is, are you going to be OK?” He pulls me in as though he doesn’t want me to see the hurt on his face.

“Yes,” I say without thinking. “Why would I care?” God—I hate this conversation.

“You were close, and I know feelings don’t just disappear overnight.”

I settle into him, bury my face in his chest. This time it’s me who wants to hide the hurt. I hate that my heart won’t let go of Logan.

“I’ll have you won’t I?” My voice quivers. “How could I ever have a broken heart with you in my life?”

He presses in a heartfelt kiss.

“Good answer,” his chest rattles with a little laugh. “You’ll always have me, Skyla.”

“Hey,” I push back and examine him in the blanched moonlight. “When I came to Paragon why didn’t you, you know, step up and claim me?” I want to laugh at the caveman mentality of it all, but, in all honesty, we could have avoided a lot of heartache—not to mention an entire faction war.

He takes in an enormous breath and holds it.

“I thought that maybe you’d come to me. Once I was sure it was you, it was too late. You and Logan were locked at the hip, and I didn’t want to get in the way. I knew the visions were right—that it would all work out.”

“It did,” I whisper, pressing my cheek against his. I want to absorb all of his grief—turn his past heartbreak into joy unspeakable.  

“Remember that day at the mall? You were eating ice cream, and I told you that I’d marry you someday?”

“Yes.” I’ll never forget the sadness Gage would exude every time we were together. Now I know why.

“I guess it was my way of intervening. Anyway, it was lame.”

“No, it wasn’t. The truth is, I’ve always felt something for you. And right about now, I’m regretting ever looking in Logan’s direction.”

“Don’t,” Gage closes his eyes and bumps my nose with his. “I’ve had other visions, Skyla.”

“Tell me.” I settle back against the pillow as though he’s about to tell me the best bedtime story ever.

“I’m not ready.” There’s that sadness again. “I may never be.”

***

The sun casts its pall on the morning—tries with futile desperation to pull apart the taffy haze, and make its light known to the bubble of our universe. Paragon is like the underbelly of a rock, cool and liable to the things of daylight. Ours is a sinister world covered under the wing of some mythological creature who supervises our comings and goings, attests to the anomaly of the island with its covenant to darkness.

I crank open my window and call for Nevermore. I wait in eager anticipation, watch with awe as his mass of shadowed wings glide into the foreground. He ducks inside and I close the window to trap in the warmth. Gage’s woodsy cologne still lingers thick in the air from the night before.   

 “Skyla,” he croaks, pulling in and out his wings as though he were adjusting them.

I give a few soft strokes before settling my hand on the flat of his back.

“Tell me everything.”

What is my life to you? My days are long over. There is nothing that should intrigue you.

“You have my blood racing through your veins, we’re connected. I want to know all about you.” And whatever the hell landed him trapped in the body of an overgrown bird. “You said you were a Count. Maybe start there.” That more than a little freaks me out, but I’d hate to make him feel bad about his specie demotion. The last thing I need to worry about is having my eyes pecked out by an angry raven.

Very well. I say these things not to frighten or titillate, just mere facts of who I once was and how I managed to land my soul in this morbid estate
. He shuffles from side to side when he says it.

I’d hate to hurt his feelings but I can hardly understand him.

I originate from a distant past. Had I remained, I would have perished long ago. As a young man, I favored a girl who captured my heart. She was a Celestra and held fast to her kind, always following the rules, engaging in the rivalry between factions when necessary. 

 “So, this is a love story,” I sit on the bed and beckon him next to me.

I believe this is more of a tragedy. My love and I were not able to be. I fought to have my status renounced and help my love in a battle for her life, and her faction. I was a great warrior and achieved the massacre of hundreds of my former people
.

“You killed Counts…and you did it for love?” Logan flashes through my mind, wielding his weapon of mass destruction at all those New Moon festivals a few weeks back.

I gave everything for love. Unfortunately, the justice alliance didn’t feel we were vindicated in our efforts, and penalized both me, and the one to whom my heart belonged.

“What happened?”

It’s long and sordid, the details both grisly and disastrous. The sentence was particularly harsh as they deemed it necessary to display us both as examples for those considering treason.

“Why did they punish her if she was going against a rival faction?” Logan specifically told me there were laws in place to protect against stuff like that—unless, of course, he reached down into his bucket of lies to fish that one out.       

She moved without permission of the council
.

“She went rogue.” I so like her. “But sometimes the faction leaders make stupid decisions.” They are so prone to making stupid decisions.

Agree. Nevertheless, we chose to forego the warning in lieu of saving her race. After that, the punishment was abrupt, and severed our love for eternity. I was cast into the body of my quickest capture
.

“And she?” I swallow hard in anticipation.

She was allowed a season. She married a daft fellow, had four children, two perished at birth. Then one day when the justice alliance saw fit, they took her
.

“Took her?” I straighten. “Like for her blood?”

No, they destroyed her flesh. She has been handed immortal servitude. They malformed her beauty and forbade me to see her again
.

“And you? You live forever as this raven?”

The raven lives as long as it’s not slaughtered. Natural death will not overcome me. I’ve averted many a hunter’s arrow
.

“What happens when the raven dies?”

It will be as though I never existed
.
My soul eternally departs.

I press my hand against my chest.

“What was your name?”

The one who once bore a human moniker has perished, he will be Nevermore, and that is my name.

“And the name of the girl you loved?”

His head ticks upwards, his black dots for eyes peer into mine.

Surely you must know by now.

The name of my beloved.

Ezrina.    

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Feast

Tad organizes a dinner party at a ritzy downtown restaurant worthy of a wedding reception, only there’s no blessed union to celebrate. Instead, there’s a wicked soul parading around as a Landon at the center of this feast.

Tad is beyond amazed that
Ethan
hasn’t taken off without being leashed down and has pulled out all the stops for this boisterously lavish affair. Mom invited Brielle and Drake, Darla and their shared love, Demetri, the Olivers, which brings my love to the table, Gage, Logan the traitor, and, of course, Marshall who my mother not so secretly worships from afar. Holden invited Emily who, in turn, came equipped with her perennial demonic accessories, Chloe, Michelle, and Lexy—bitch squad deluxe.

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