Immersive

by Becky Moynihan

  And then warm, honey-gold eyes filled my vision. Bren. The man who held my heart. My soulmate. I smiled at him but couldn’t feel it. He didn’t smile back. Lines furrowed his brow. Worried lines. Scared lines. I wanted to erase them but couldn’t.

  Why couldn’t I?

  Because I had no hands. Nothing was left of me but my eyes. I could still see, and I wanted to see everything.

  My gaze flew over his head to the russett sky streaked with gold. A flock of birds soared past. Beautiful. Free. They were so breathtakingly free. I felt free. Free of pain, free of cages and walls, free of torment. I could join the birds now.

  Because that’s what I was. A little bird.

  They beckoned to me.

  “Don’t leave me,” I whispered, hoping they heard. But I couldn’t see them anymore. Even my sight was gone.

  As my eyes fluttered closed, I felt something on my face. It was familiar. Comforting. It gave me peace.

  I knew everything would be all right then.

  It had started to rain.

  I was swimming.

  It was warm and safe here. A quiet place where thoughts weren’t needed. But it was different this time. I couldn’t feel. Or remember. And that bothered me. Although the water was peaceful, it was empty. Before, I wouldn’t have minded, but things had changed. There were people, places, dreams that weren’t here.

  Something was wrong.

  I jerked against the water’s hold. Normally so languid, it clutched me tightly, refusing to let go. Panicking, I thrashed and depleted the last of my oxygen. My lungs burned, desperate for air. I denied them. Holding my breath underwater was a game of mine. I could go a while longer.

  “Come back to me.”

  But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be free of this water. It was holding me back from something, something that I wanted very much.

  “Please don’t leave me. Please.”

  If it would just give me the choice to decide for myself.

  “Breathe, Lune, breathe.”

  Breathe? Well, now the water was trying to kill me. And here I thought we were old friends.

  “I don’t want to live a future without you in it. I need you, little bird.”

  That was different. And yet familiar. Real? Yes. That was it. Real. And wherever it was, that’s where I wanted to be.

  A voice, a crazy voice in my head said, Just breathe.

  Yeah, right.

  “It’s going to be okay, little bird. Just wait and see.”

  Oh. I remembered that.

  And the voice—I remembered that, too. I wanted to hear it again.

  Just breathe.

  Ugh, this water was murderous.

  Just. Breathe.

  Doing so could mean death, but what if it brought me to that voice? I wouldn’t mind dying if I could reunite with that voice. Something told me I’d experience all the things that were missing here if I took a chance and dared to take a breath.

  And so—against every instinct I possessed—I took that first step, that leap of faith.

  And breathed.

  Home.

  I was home.

  “Lune, you’re going to be late!”

  I gripped the railing and drank in the breathtaking sight a moment more, then hurried inside. “I can’t help it, it’s perfect,” I said, closing the French doors of the observatory. “Besides, my hair was still wet.”

  “Yeah, because you couldn’t stop training for one second to take a decent bath.” Bells glanced over her shoulder to roll her eyes at me. “Seriously, though, you couldn’t take today off?”

  I shrugged as we scurried down the stairs. “I’m an adrenaline junkie.”

  She groaned but didn’t comment, too busy herding me to our destination like a mother duck. An hour later, she was still fretting.

  “Stop fiddling with it.”

  “But it doesn’t look right,” I muttered, fiddling some more.

  “It looks exactly like it’s supposed to.” At my exasperated sigh, Bells’ hands went to her hips. “Hey, who’s the fashion expert here?”

  “Me,” a male voice said, startling us both. Jaxon waltzed into the room, a pronounced limp to his step. His prosthetic leg must be bothering him today. With a grunt, he lowered himself onto the flowery yellow couch. “I say stick with the metal armor and cape look. It’s who you are.”

  “It’s not what you wear that matters,” Bells said in a deep, scratchy voice, “but what you do. Isn’t that how the saying goes, Jax? And you shouldn’t be in here. It’s bad luck or something like that.”

  “If that’s the case,” I interjected, “then I don’t need to wear this thing. I’ll just take it off, and—”

  “No!” both Bells and Jaxon shouted.

  Through the floor-length mirror, I saw Yukiko pop her head into the room. “What’s going on in here? Do I need to kick some butts? If these goons are bothering you, Lune, just let me know.”

  I smirked at her reflection. “Maybe kick their butts afterward. A boot print might show on that flimsy pale fabric they’re wearing.”

  “Pshh, I ain’t wearing flimsy fabric. It’s airy,” Jaxon said with a lofty tone, making room on the couch for Yukiko. She bypassed the seat for his lap instead, careful to avoid what he called his “battle wound.” He pulled her close and waggled his eyebrows. “It lets certain body parts breathe better.”

  A chorus of female groans filled the semi-crowded room. Iris giggled from her perch on the canopy bed, and I turned my head to grin at her encouragingly.

  “Did I miss something?” Another head poked through the doorway, then spikey, ash-blond hair was streaking across the room. Iris squealed when Asher landed beside her. The bed creaked loudly under his weight and they both laughed. “Where’s your brother and sister?” he asked before flicking her nose.

  She shrugged, a blush staining her cheeks. “They’re playing with your sister and brothers. I just needed a break from the noise.” She would never admit it out loud, but I knew that socializing was still overwhelming for her. Everything about her past self was brand new, and the one person she’d latched onto during this confusing time in her life was Asher.

  I pressed my lips together, sharing a look with him. We were both aware of her budding crush. While he winked at me, Iris studied the marred side of his face. The raised scar—which stretched from eye to chin and cut right through a dimple—definitely made him stand out in a crowd now, a fact he was extremely proud of.

  I fiddled with the comb thing in my hair again, certain it wasn’t in the right spot.

  “Stoooop,” Bells moaned. “It’s perfect. He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

  My heart suddenly tripped all over itself.

  “I know what he’ll be looking at and it’s not your—” Jaxon’s drawl ended in an oof.

  “Knock it off,” Yukiko warned.

  “What? Baby cakes, I was going to say hair!”

  A laugh bubbled out of me, drawing everyone’s attention. My dress rustled as I turned around despite Bells’ protests. “Thank you all for being here today. And you should know that I love you, in case I don’t get to—”

  “In case Bren never lets you see the light of day again?” Jaxon offered.

  This time, his girlfriend chuckled in agreement.

  A knock came. “You all ready? It’s getting late.”

  At the sound of the deep, grumbly voice, a myriad of emotions lit up Bells’ face. To top it off, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. She expertly teetered across the room in her high heels and threw the door wide.

  Ryker stood just outside. He inclined his head to me, taking in my attire with a swift glance that missed nothing. His wide shoulders were tense, but when his blue and black eyes landed on Bells, they noticeably softened.

  She buried her hands in the folds of her skirt. “Hi,” she whispered.

  His lips twitched into a faint smile. “Hi.”

  “I missed you,” she blurted, then ducked her head.

&n
bsp; Ah, if only she could have seen his face after those words. There was such raw devotion and adoration. He was without a doubt falling in love with her. But they were still learning how to communicate—mostly him. That didn’t stop him from expressing his affection in other ways. Never once taking his eyes off her, he placed a hand on the small of her back and pulled her out the door. After a few shuffles and giggles, all went silent.

  I blinked. Well, then.

  They hadn’t seen each other in a month, though, so I understood their enthusiasm. After The Great Daring Rescue, as Jaxon called the liberation of Tatum City, everything had changed. The city was a mess, the citizens even more so. Some up and left without a word—like Elite Instructor Drake and others who’d fought against us—but most stayed. Despite the horrors of that day, many were still scared to step foot outside the walls. Slowly but surely, though, they were learning. Books had been brought in. Jaxon had even lent out a few of his movies.

  Tatum City had been renamed New Hope—another of Jaxon’s suggestions—and the house was now a sanctuary for the homeless. My old room technically wasn’t mine anymore, but Bells had commandeered it for the day. Because there was one minuscule difference about today, a milestone that everyone here knew about—thanks to Jaxon.

  It was my birthday.

  I’d been alive now for nineteen years, and I chose to spend today in this city that was no longer a prison. And even with its many scars, New Hope had the ability to recreate Bren’s future vision exactly how he’d pictured it.

  Everything had to be perfect. Because there was one other thing different about today.

  It was our wedding day.

  After almost dying in Bren’s arms from a gunshot wound to the gut, we were both living in the moment. Every day was a miracle, our time spent together precious. He was often busy doing what he did best: fixing things. The village needed rebuilding and he’d thrown himself into the project with zeal. But each night, no matter how tired he was, he never failed to show his gratitude that I was still alive.

  The treaty between the Recruiter Clan and The Ridge still held, but Ryker spent the majority of his time keeping the men in line so his mother Evie could birth a thriving kingdom. Bells was struggling. She so desperately wanted to stay with him there, but he wouldn’t risk her safety like he had last time.

  Rumors of a rogue clan that continued to traffick humans kept both groups busy, especially Jaxon and Dr. Moore who were cooking up another mission to infiltrate a suspicious walled city. Thankfully, Bren hadn’t volunteered to spy for them and didn’t seem at all inclined to for the future, either.

  The biggest change was having my mum nearby. Now a citizen of New Hope, she and Asher’s mother—who was on the mend after receiving better health care—had grown close. I saw them often and helped babysit their five rambunctious children, but my new job required the majority of my time.

  As the founder of Holland Academy—named in honor of Dominic, my late instructor—my days were filled with endless lessons, questions, and confusion on how to organize everything. With her teaching background, Bells helped, but I handled most of the hands-on training. Anyone was welcome to learn, no matter their age or status. The classes ranged from ability control, learning how to read, to surviving the outside world.

  A few months ago, the unlikeliest of people had signed up for a survival course. She was uncoordinated and whined every time I knocked her down, but Rose was almost tolerable when she concentrated on something other than herself.

  The prison I’d hated for so long was now a place for people to thrive. The city was still without a leader, and I still had nightmares, but I was healing. We were healing.

  “You ready, Lune?” Asher said, jogging me from my thoughts. He studied me curiously, probably sensing the dozens of things I had felt in the last few contemplative minutes.

  I tucked it all away, every single important memory, for another time. And accepted his offered arm. “Yeah, stable boy. I am.”

  The wedding ceremony was a blur of sensation and overwhelming emotion.

  It was a crisp autumn day, the trees brilliant shades of gold, orange, and red. The sky was a fathomless blue and the breeze sent my gauzy veil fluttering—oh, that’s why Bells positioned the comb there. I experienced an abundance of feeling that I was still getting used to: Contentment. Certainty. Joy and happiness. And, above all, love.

  And then there was Bren.

  My Bren.

  My soulmate.

  The colors and faces surrounding us fell away when I saw him at long last. His white suit beautifully contrasted his deeply tanned skin. His face was clean-shaven, his wavy hair tamed except for a stubborn lock slowly inching down his forehead. I saved his eyes for last. Stars, I would never grow tired of those intense golden eyes. Every time he looked at me, I caught on fire. The entire ceremony, my face flamed red as he stared and stared and stared like a man parched, waiting for the moment when he could slake his thirst.

  After the ceremony, we danced until winking stars and a delicate half moon graced the night sky. The skirt of my lace dress swished in time to the violin's haunted strains and I was carried away, away, away on the soaring notes.

  Butterflies fluttered in my stomach when Bren dipped me low, whispering in my ear, “I have a confession to make.”

  I shivered, distracted when his lips found my earlobe. “What’s that?”

  His teeth gently bit the soft flesh before I was righted and whisked away again. “I didn’t think my future vision thing all the way through. You see, I can’t carry you all the way to the house.”

  I frowned. “Are you saying I’ve put on a few pounds since becoming an instructor?”

  He saw my put out expression and quickly shook his head. “No, not at all. It’s just—”

  I couldn’t hold in my snort a second longer.

  He stopped. Then scowled. “You were joking.” The scowl tipped into a smirk. “Two can play that game.”

  “I’m counting on it,” I purred, throwing him a wink as I whirled away.

  A low growl was my only warning before he lifted me into his arms. As he spun me, I threw back my head and laughed, uncaring who heard. He carried me to the stables, setting me down to throw a blanket over Stalin’s back.

  I bit my lip. “Well, this feels familiar.”

  “I brought Freedom to the house earlier today so you had no choice but to ride with me.” He twirled a finger with a smirk. “Turn around.” When I gave him a skeptical look, he laughed softly and grasped my shoulders. I rolled my eyes but didn’t resist as he positioned himself behind me.

  What was he going to do? Launch me onto Stalin’s back?

  Before my mind could get too carried away, his fingers feathered over my neck. A slight weight settled between my breasts and I glanced down. And gasped.

  “Bren.” I carefully lifted the familiar object that dangled from an equally familiar leather cord.

  He kissed my bare shoulder. “Happy Birthday, little bird.”

  My chin quivered and I whirled to face him. “How?”

  “Well, I had a run-in with a bear recently, if you remember. And I’ve been waiting for a special occasion to give this to you ever since.”

  Speechless, I cradled the bear tooth in my palm and dropped my gaze, his tender expression too much. He knew me so well now, knew how much I’d cherished that necklace and would cherish this one. Knew that I was seconds away from crying and needed a moment to collect myself. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed my crescent moon tattoo before hoisting me onto Stalin’s back.

  The trip wasn’t long. We had found a spot not too far from here, perfect for starting our future together as husband and wife. Although private, Bren and Jaxon had secured the property with an alarm system.

  I snuggled close to him as a cool breeze tickled my bare skin. He rested his palm on my stomach like he did every day since I’d been shot. His fingers idly traced the spot just below my navel. The days following the event that
almost killed me were forever etched in my memory. Bren didn’t leave my bedside once, standing vigil day and night until his body would force him to sleep.

  When I’d regain consciousness for a few moments, he was always there, holding my hand, resting on the bed beside me, or gently tending to my body’s needs. The utmost care he’d given me—the commitment and sacrifice, the outpouring of love—had restored my strength. From that moment forward, I let him see everything. Good or bad, there wasn’t a single wall between us. I wanted him to know, without a doubt, that I would do anything, anything for him in return.

  When we arrived at our three-stall stable, Freedom greeted us with a nicker. She and Stalin had become extra friendly lately. I’d have to keep an eye on them.

  Bren jumped down and swooped me into his arms, all business. I bit my lip to keep from laughing again. I knew where he was headed. Every bone in my body knew.

  As we exited the stable, I caught a glimpse of our newly built cabin through a stand of pine trees. Wisps of smoke curled from the stone chimney, mingling with the stars.

  “Did Jaxon light the fireplace?” I squinted at the softly glowing windows.

  “I did it earlier. Why, are you not keen on an audience?” he said with amusement, flashing a bit of fang.

  My cheeks turned a rosy hue again. Ugh. Now I was picturing us completing the final part of his vision with the wedding party shouting encouragement. The rest of my body burst into flames. A rumble began in Bren’s chest, further stoking the heat that blazed through me.

  A dunk in a cold lake sounded heavenly right about now. To distract myself, I began counting.

  “Twenty . . . sixteen . . . nine . . .”

  “Why are you counting?” Bren asked with a chuckle.

  I shifted my eyes from the calm lake that glistened under a waning moon to his curious gaze. “I simply want to know how many steps stand between us and our happily ever after.”

  He slowed, feet away from the gently lapping shore. “So you’re happy?”