At Last A Life Novels & Stories

Nothing installed. Marissa was terrible last night. thought Aini. Then try to find his cell phone. He wanted to contact Dave. "Mobile phone," Aini said slowly, as if calling it a cell phone had magically come to her. Not even finding her cellphone, Aini closed her eyes again. Now he doesn't use his hands anymore. Aini chose to close her eyes. Then his stomach growled again. He opened his eyes again and tried to sit up slowly. After her success, Aini stretched out her hand to grab the tray of food.

"Oh? What is it?" Nerina lowered her voice, a vicious edge creeping into her tone. "Alistair doesn't love you at all. He only got close to you because of the transfer agreement for the Carlisle residence in your ownership. He already planned it all out with his sworn sisters. The moment he gets his hands on the estate, he's going to divorce you!" I tightened my grip on my phone. The Carlisle residence was the only memento my grandfather had left me. In my previous life, Alistair had forced me to sign an agreement right before he killed me. So, that had been his ultimate goal all along.

As the candles I set up went out again and again, the passion inside of me died as well. Then, my phone, which had been quiet for so long, started to ring. I picked it up. "I gave Kat the spot for this year's retreat that’s meant for a family member. If you want anything, call my assistant. And I won't be home tonight. Kat just moved into her new place, and she's having a hard time settling in..." I looked at the cake on the table that was meant for our anniversary. The candle that was shaped like a 2 on the cake felt like a joke.

The very last time. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Xayden’s POV

"We travelled here yesterday to await you. We live in Arizona too. We were at the event three days ago, but you probably didn't see us." "I didn't." I admitted. "Yes. We excorted Miss Gabrielle and Mrs Martin, since B3 and B4 were with you and your husband." I nodded my head, starting to understand just how they worked. Christian really didn't need this much bodyguards. But what do I know by the way. I wasn't an heir to one of the biggest corporations in the world. "That's a great team." I said to him and he offered a smile. Aloy was less robotic than the one driving. Moses usually gave off rude vibes.

"The First Life. The day they found the Scythe in my blood." ​"No," Julian said, his voice sharp with a realization that made him turn pale. "Look at the monitors, Elowen. This isn't just a memory. This is 2026. This is now." ​The monitors above the table weren't showing medical data. They were showing a countdown. ​04:59. ​"The Ritual of Extraction," a voice boomed from the overhead speakers. It was Silas, but his voice sounded younger, stronger. "The Tenth Life was a failure of the soul, Dr. Valerius. But the First Life... the First Life is pure potential."

It is just before sunrise on what will be our last morning in this small little town close to the end of nowhere. Today I say goodbye to my life here. I might come back here someday when I come to see Matt, but in over a little than two hours, I shall get on a bus and leave this all behind. Next to me is my new life; she looks even more radiant than she did yesterday. If there were ever two things that I did right in my life, then it is Isabella and the Corps.

Seeing Abel laugh, seeing our children watch wide-eyed, and feeling the warmth of my family surrounding me, I realized that life had finally given me the peace I had longed for. My past—the pain, the longing—felt distant now. In its place was love, laughter, and the kind of contentment I had only dared to dream of. As I watched Abel with our children, a quiet smile spread across my face. My life, after all the hardships, had ended up exactly as it should have: full, peaceful, and overflowing with the love I had fought so long to earn. The End. Osborne on finding out Aina is pregnant with their first child.

She finishes the fourth book in March. Not March of the sixty-sixth year — March of the sixty-seventh. Two years and one month from the first entry. One hundred and four entries, shaped into four movements, the final movement written in the last six weeks, with the quality of something that has been building for a very long time and is now simply arriving. The book is called The First Life: What the Practice Earned and What the Practice Cost.

The struggles and sorrows of that other life were finally sealed away—gently, tenderly, by the hands of time. -THE END-