Roar of the Lion - Addison Moore

Prologue

Skyla

To every story there is a beginning, and to every story there is an end.

One theme remains the same—no matter which story, no matter who the author may be, everything is working toward its conclusion. Nothing remains the same.

The law of entropy is alive and well, right there in the nexus of your existence, in the heart of everyone you love. It never leaves, never disappoints in its vigor to erode.

From the moment you were brought into this world, you were well on your way to your demise—a trajectory to whatever fate awaits you on the other side of the veil. You are the orchestrator of your own eternity.

Did you believe Him?

Did you deny?

Did you cast yourself into Heaven or into Hell?

You have always held the keys to your eternal standing.

What happened in the interim, between your first breath and your last?

What did you live for?

Did you fight for what you believed in?

Did you believe what’s good and right?

Or did wickedness lure you in by way of promises of riches and fame?

Did it whisper deep into your ear that you, in fact, could be your own god?

That you already were?

Did you fall under the spell of a liar, a thief, a killer?

Did they consume you?

Did you become them?

The enemy knows his time is short. His leash is constricting, his oxygen diminished. He needs your strength. He needs your very breath to carry out his devilish schemes.

But those who love the Son never give in. They look to the sky and listen for the sound of the shofar. He is so very near. Their departure from this planet, less than a breath away.

There is a war in Heaven. A war for your soul. For mine.

Death and destruction lie uncovered to the One who sits on the throne. He sees His children weathering the storm, and He sings over them with a mighty roar.

He calls out to the dry bones of my people and commands them to rise up and come alive.

Together we are lifted by the breath of his nostrils. Together we rise. Our bodies restored to life, fully clothed in glory.

My people will rise again—stronger than ever, fully clothed in glory, in defiance of the enemy.

Life isn’t lived in reverse. The beginning of the day never holds the knowledge that waits for you when night falls.

I once believed that falling in love was a lot like death. I thought it chose you, that it decided the chain of events that would lead to an unavoidable collision of the heart.

I believed that it used you, treated you as though you were malleable in its warm hands. It would never ask if you wanted it, or needed it, just filled the gaping hole of destiny’s design.

But I can see now that falling in love has a lot more in common with living than it ever does death. You may certainly choose whom you fall in love with. Destiny may point you in the trajectory, but it is ultimately your will, your strong desire that allows someone to graft themselves onto your heart.

I allowed the enemy to graft himself onto my heart so very securely until he shattered it, stopped it from beating altogether.

Perhaps I should have yielded to destiny; perhaps the one who wove my fate together knew best after all. Had I never strayed from the path designed for me, my people, my very life would still be mine. But I strayed. I looked the enemy in his cobalt eyes and nodded with approval while he burned down the planet under the guise of our love. And in turn, my people and I have paid the ultimate price.

Love. As soon as I arrived on Paragon, my world bloomed with its beautiful never-ending ache. I would have given all of my blood to my enemies. They could have had it completely—if I knew it would satisfy them—if I could live without it. But I knew the end of the story before it ever began. I had to choose love. And for this, I would surely die.

And I did.

It is that time in my existence—a time for love and a time for death. Fate had intertwined the two, bereaved of any mercy. But it is not the architecture of my being as I once believed, nor does it rule the infrastructure. The pillars of my life may have been established long ago—the blueprint written in my bloodlines, but my destiny, and that of my people, is in my hands and I will find a