Chapter 43
Candace
The heavenlies glow with an otherworldly light as crystalline platforms float, where time flows at its own pace and reality bends around divine will.
The air carries the scent of jasmine and electricity, with a hint of freshness that comes just before dawn. From our celestial perch, sounds from the mortal world drift upward—the snap and crackle of bonfire flames, children’s laughter, and the steady rhythm of waves against Paragon’s shore.
I settle into my favorite observation chair, woven from starlight and sapphires, and smile as I watch my daughter’s bonfire celebration play out on the viewing sphere in front of us. The scene unfolds like a carefully planned performance, every moment falling into place exactly as it should.
“Well,” I say to my companions, unable to contain the satisfaction in my voice, “that was entertaining.”
Demetri sprawls on his own crystal chair with that dark, brooding presence he’s perfected over the centuries, his dark hair gleaming in the strange light. “Entertaining is one word for it. I prefer humiliating.”
“Come now,” Sector Marshall chimes in from where he’s examining his reflection in a puddle of liquid stars, “surely you’re not still sulking about being outsmarted by mail theft?”
Demetri’s signature grin appears, though it carries considerably less smugness than usual. “Outsmarted is a strong word. I prefer to think of it as a temporary setback caused by federal postal regulations.”
“A temporary setback,” I repeat with amusement. “Is that what we’re calling it when your centuries-long plan to marry my daughter’s stepmother is foiled by a stolen travel brochure?”
“The plan had many moving parts,” Demetri protests with a touch of wounded dignity. “I couldn’t account for every variable, including your daughter’s apparent willingness to commit felonies for love.”
Sector Marshall laughs. “I have to admire her style. Most people try to prevent cosmic disasters through prayer or meditation. Skyla goes straight to a federal offense.”
“She gets that from me,” I say with a delicious grin.
“The criminal tendencies or the stubborn refusal to accept defeat?” Demetri asks.
“Both.”
Below us, the viewing sphere shows Skyla holding sweet Eden, then Jaxson, while her family laughs around the fire. I’ll admit, the sight fills me with something warm and electric—and the particular satisfaction that comes from watching carefully laid plans coming to fruition.
“Look at them,” I say, gesturing toward the scene. “Exactly where they’re supposed to be, exactly when they’re supposed to be there. Celestra will endure.”
“Your faith in mortal resilience is touching,” Demetri observes. “Although I have to point out that both of my sons are still down there playing the part of hero. It’s very disappointing from a paternal perspective.”
“Wesley’s heroism is temporary at best,” Sector Marshall says dismissively. “Give him a week and he’ll be back to morally questionable activities and brooding in dark corners.”
Demetri tips his head. “One can only hope.”
I lean forward as the sphere shows the good Sector hunting down Skyla on the beach, and I have to suppress a laugh at the expression on my daughter’s face. “Sector Marshall, you’re incorrigible.”
“I prefer persistent. And before you lecture me about destiny and free will, I’d like to point out that some of us are playing a very long game.”
“How long exactly?” Demetri asks with far too much curiosity.
“However long it takes.” Marshall’s smile turns predatory as we watch him kiss Skyla on the sand. “She can fight it all she wants, but we all know how this story ends.”
“Do we?” I tilt my head with mock innocence. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like she’s quite happily married to Logan, with a growing family and a strong support system. Not exactly leaving room for celestial suitors.”
“Details.” Marshall waves the thought away. “Love transcends temporal limitations. Besides, I am an immortal. I have all the time in the universe.”
“Immortality doesn’t guarantee romantic success.” Demetri points my way as he says it. “I know this firsthand.”
“Your situation is different,” Sector grunts. “You’re trying to win back an ex-soulmate who’s decided you’re the embodiment of evil. I’m courting a woman who’s destined to be my wife.”
“According to whom?” I ask, though I’m still smiling.
“According to fate, destiny, and cosmic law. I believe that would be you.”
I watch my daughter return to her family as laughter lights up her face, and I feel that familiar surge of maternal pride mixed with celestial satisfaction. “You know what I love about this entire situation?”
“Your daughter’s criminal creativity?” Demetri suggests.
“The fact that she defeated both of you using nothing but determination and the federal postal system?” Marshall adds.
“The fact that she proved something I’ve always believed.
” I gesture toward the viewing sphere, where the entire family is now gathered around the bonfire, their voices mixing with the sound of waves and crackling driftwood.
“Love—real love, the kind that builds families and defies manipulation—is stronger than any force in the universe. Stronger than time travel, stronger than destiny, stronger than the combined efforts of a Caelestis and a Sector and a cosmic entity who shall remain nameless.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Demetri points out.
“And yet you still lost to mail theft.”
“Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“Probably not.”
Sector Marshall smooths down his coat, preparing to leave our celestial viewing party. “Well, this has been delightfully humbling for some of us, but I have romantic pursuits to plan.”
“More kissing of unsuspecting wives?” Demetri asks with a devilish grin.
“Among other things. Romance is an art form, you understand. It requires patience, creativity, and excellent timing.”
“And apparently, a complete disregard for marriage vows,” I add dryly.
“Marriage vows are temporary. Soul bonds are eternal.”
“Hear, hear,” Demetri says, cheering him on.
“Ladies and gentlemen, until next time,” Sector Marshall gives a slight bow. “I have a future wife to woo.”
He disappears in a shower of silver stars, leaving Demetri and me alone with the viewing sphere and the lingering scent of his cologne.
“He’s persistent, I’ll give him that,” Demetri observes. “Well, this has been illuminating, but I have my own schemes to plot. Evil doesn’t plan itself, you know.”
“More attempts to marry my daughter’s stepmother?”
“Oh, heavens no. I’m thinking smaller scale this time. Maybe I’ll try to corrupt a local election or manipulate the stock market. Something with a reasonable chance of success. My marriage to Lizbeth will come in time. And if I’m anything, I’m patient.”
“Very wise.”
Demetri pauses at the edge of the crystalline platform.
“You know, Candace, despite our philosophical differences and your daughter’s unfortunate habit of thwarting my plans, I have to admit, this was well played on her part.
Not so much yours.” His smile widens as he gives a sly wink. “Better luck next time.”
“I don’t need luck. I make my own.”
“Indeed. Until our next inevitable conflict.”
“Until then.”
Demetri vanishes in his trademark swirl of midnight stars, leaving me alone with the viewing sphere and the most beautiful sight in any universe—my daughter surrounded by the family she fought so hard to protect.
I lean back in my starlight throne and smile as I watch Skyla laugh with friends while Logan and Gage argue about something undoubtedly ridiculous as Brielle tries to mediate between them.
This is what I schemed and planned and manipulated time itself to preserve—not just my daughter’s happiness, but the continuation of something pure and strong and eternal for every one of those souls involved.
And I’ll destroy anyone who tries to undercut Celestra’s future, even if they happen to be directly related to me through my daughter.
Blood ties won’t save them from my wrath if they threaten what I’ve built.
I knew Skyla and Logan would find a way home.
And I certainly know they will move heaven and earth to make sure their offspring do not dare step out of line when it comes to Celestra.
It was all a ruse. I couldn’t merely relay the prophecy and hope that Skyla and Logan would rear their children in the way they should go.
They needed a wake-up call that would drive home the point.
And, of course, the point being, that I would not suffer fools who dare stand in the way of Celestra, even if they have only ever called me Grandma.
Celestra will endure. Through faction wars and time travel adventures, through federal mail theft and butterfly room debauchery, through whatever Sector Marshall’s romantic persistence brings and whatever schemes Demetri hatches next.
Some stories are eternal, playing out across time and space with love always finding a way to write the ending, today, yesterday, and forever.
After all, I always get my way—that’s the way fate would have it, and fate is in my hands.