Created me as an exact replica of who I was in all my past lives, complete with all my memories—good and bad—and every physical detail down to the scar I had on my left knee due to an unfortunate bicycle accident when I was just about Naomi’s age.
Thanks to the gods’ generosity, they granted me immortality to show their gratitude at my sacrifice to stop the prophecy. Carrick and I would be together forever, and Rune would be locked away in a prison where he’d age like a human and die lonely. Carrick felt that was far more fitting a punishment than a quick death, which would have been too easy.
“All good?” Carrick asks, his expression just a bit concerned as he nods at my finger. I’ve been immortal for seven years now, yet it still feels like a dream to us both at times.
“All good,” I reply. I hold my finger up, giving it a wiggle. When Naomi grins, I move around the counter in a stalking sort of motion. I wiggle my finger again. As I get closer to her, I reach out and tickle her with it. She screams with laughter and squirms, trying to get away.
When I chuckle, she reaches her arms out to me. It feels so good to hold her, and I whisper a prayer up to Zora for not only giving me immortality but fertility as well. Naomi is our first and only for right now, but she won’t be our last. The gods were kind when they granted our entire family an eternity to be together, so while Naomi would age up naturally in her formative years, she’d slowly stop the process in her mid-thirties.
We had an exceedingly long life ahead of us.
I give her a smacking kiss on her cheek before handing her back to Carrick so I can finish the salad. He places her on the floor and gives her a pat on the butt, instructing her to wash her hands.
After she’s gone, Carrick comes up behind me as I’m cutting the last cucumber. He steps in close, pressing his hard and deliciously beautiful body against mine. The feel of him almost makes the knife slip out of my hand again.
I wouldn’t mind, though.
Another cut would well be worth the feeling of security and desire he provokes within me every time we touch.
“I heard from Zaid today,” he remarks, setting his chin on my shoulder.
“Is he still coming next week?”
“Yup. And he’s bringing his mother as well.”
“Awesome,” I reply with a tiny thrill of excitement. I’ve become remarkably close to Mala since Zaid made amends with her a few years ago. They come to our California home regularly to vacation, and they are always welcome. Carrick bought us an almost-eleven-thousand-square-foot house, so guests are never a nuisance.
I finish slicing the cucumber, then reluctantly pull away from Carrick to toss the pieces in the salad bowl. “And the week after, Rainey and Myles are coming with the kids.”
Carrick makes a long-suffering groan of displeasure. “You mean the hellions?”
I have to bite back my snicker as I manage to level him with a chastising glare. “They’re not that bad.”
“Oh…but yes, they are,” he mutters, leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Remember last time? They set fire to your herb garden.”
This time, I do snicker. Rainey and Myles had twin boys three months before we had Naomi, and they are a handful. But I love the two rambunctious, loud, and wily little kids as only a godmother could.
“Maybe I’ll schedule a fishing trip,” Carrick muses out loud, his gaze moving past me to the wall of glass overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The house is mostly glass, and it sits on a jutting piece of cliff so the ocean is visible from practically everywhere.
“I wouldn’t hold it against you if you did,” I assure him, giving his face a little pat as I move to the sink to wash my hands.
He reaches out and snags my arm, then spins me around and pulls me into his body. Carrick’s arms go around my waist as he pulls me in close.
Bending his head, he catches my eyes with his own luminous gold ones. “I’ve been thinking.”
“You’re always thinking,” I tease.
He ignores me. “I’ve been thinking we should work on kid number two.”
“Um… that is not work,” I remind him, looping my arms around his neck. “That is pure pleasure.”
His smile is both languid and joyful at the same time. “You ready to add?”
“More than ready,” I reply.
As an immortal, the pregnancy game is pretty easy. I don’t even have to take birth control—I merely rely on my magical demi-god husband to keep me from ovulating until we’re ready to conceive.
It appears that time is now.
Carrick kisses me, and it’s the type of kiss that says if dinner wasn’t almost ready and we didn’t have a six-year-old who could potentially run in on us at any time, we might drop to the floor to start our baby-making efforts right away.
Instead, he keeps it short, pulling back with a smile. “Remember all those years ago—when Patty and Stan saw your future?”
I wrinkle my nose. “That wretched Light Fae,” I grumble, meaning Stan, but then admit, “Patty was nice.”
“Well, everything they predicted has come true,” he points out.
“I still don’t like him,” I mutter.
“He sent us a nice wedding gift,” he replies, trying to make me feel a little guilty for my salty feelings.
“Hmmm,” I murmur noncommittally. “We did have a great wedding, didn’t we?”
“We did indeed,” he replies.
It was an intimate gathering with only Maddox, Zaid, Mala, Rainey, Myles, Titus, Caiden, Deandra, and Rebsha in attendance.
Our core group.
Our family, the one that defeated Kymaris.
Sadly, I couldn’t invite any of my friends from my former life.
My pre-aneurysm life.
After I died—and they all knew about my death—Finley Porter couldn’t return to Seattle. It’s why Carrick and I moved on to southern California and I had new identity papers drawn up, but to Carrick and my friends, I would always be Finley.
Because I was now immortal and Rune’s curse was broken, it would be the last name I’d ever have. No more reincarnations. No more heartache and pain. No more prophecies.
There was only love for Carrick and Naomi. For our future children. And for my friends who had stood by my side in the darkest of times.
So much had happened in the past, but it was just that…
The past.
But now, my life was truly beginning.
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New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author Sawyer Bennett uses real life experience to create relatable stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From contemporary romance, fantasy romance, and both women’s and general fiction, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.
A former trial lawyer from North Carolina, when she is not bringing fiction to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to her very adorable daughter, as well as full-time servant to her wonderfully naughty dogs.
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