The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bailey Ardisone

  How in the world did he always manage such perfect restraint? His proximity was driving me wild. This felt way too real.

  “I take it you miss me, then.” He dropped his gaze to the lush ground before slyly looking back up to me. His deep blue eyes shone brighter than I remembered. I was certain he could feel the torrent of emotions I had going on inside of me. Tackle him to the ground, don’t tackle him to the ground—the war raged inside my head.

  I nodded. Was he crazy? I was literally going insane over how much I missed this stupid elf.

  “Mycah, where are you?” I inquired, hoping to glean some information about his whereabouts. Okay, I knew this was just a dream and my subconscious couldn’t possibly give me the correct answer. But who was I kidding? This was my dream, and I could pretend all was right in the world if I wanted to. So for the time being, all would be.

  “I’ve been tracking Rydan. He clearly has no idea where he is going. The moronic bloke is all over the place. But I am gaining on him. I shall reach him soon enough, don’t you worry, darling.” He laced our fingers together with one hand while playing with my fingertips using the other. My heart constricted at the mention of Rydan’s name and the fact that he was lost. I could only imagine all too well how horrible being lost in this strange place would be.

  I almost started to cry for him. My heart hurt, and the pain became almost overwhelming.

  “Mycah, please—you have to find him.” I shot my eyes to his and stared with unconcealed worry for my best friend.

  “I will, love. I will,” he reassured me as he pulled his eyebrows together in question. After a minute he suddenly asked, “Where are you?”

  “Where am I? What do you mean?” Crap. I wanted to tell him so badly, but I didn’t want to ruin my dream. I didn’t want my thoughts to take this beautiful moment to a bad place. I knew my subconscious would make him mad at me if I told the truth. What was the point of telling if it didn’t do a bit of good?

  “Nariella. Oh bloody he—” He abruptly stood up and buried his hand in his hair. He kept it there, lost and entangled atop his gorgeous head. I wished my hand were there instead.

  He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes tight.

  “Please tell me you are not somewhere in Luïnil. God, Nariella, please tell me you did not go through the Lassaira Ëlemmiire,” he whispered firmly as his voice cracked from emotion. His consonants were clipped and clicked over each other by his accent.

  “Uh...Mycah, please. Don’t ruin my dream. Please.” I forced back the tears threatening to break free. Darn you girly emotions. I looked away from him and tried desperately to gain control.

  He suddenly yanked me to my feet and picked me up off the ground by the back of my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist. He pressed me to his body and nuzzled his face into my neck.

  He was warm.

  And smelled utterly divine. Just like I remembered. Sweet. Woodsy. Clean.

  I slid my fingers through his hair and clung tighter to him.

  “How could you do this?” he whispered into my skin. The feel of his smooth lips sent my spine tingling.

  “Shhhh,” I answered. Don’t ruin this.

  “I’ll find you. Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.” He did not move his face from its spot against my neck. The gesture made my violently beating heart bleed with regret and worry. I didn’t want him to risk his life to find me—or risk Rydan’s by abandoning him to come to me.

  So I reluctantly made myself wake up.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Naminé~

  An extraordinary phenomenon was occurring right before my eyes. As I walked out onto the veranda, I found myself delightedly basking in the golden rays from the sun glistening down on Aselaira. The fact that the sun brightly shone and no ounce of rain lingered in the sky was purely astounding. For months, the tempest storms raged through the land without respite. Then suddenly, and for some time now, they had lessened, bringing periods of sunshine and glorious weather. It was almost as if the land was healing, being made right again. Aselaira had been suffering for so long now, spanning all my cycles of life. Breathing in the pure air, you could nearly sense the realm beginning to rejuvenate.

  My mind pondered Remycah and Rydan out there alone somewhere. Perhaps they were the living reason as to why Aselaira was on the mend. They were finally home, where they belonged; the rightful royal heirs to the Isil’Elda throne. I beamed at the thought that it was genuinely occurring. The plan my ally from deep in the dungeon and I concocted had indeed been successful. We got them home.

  I stood against the palisade overlooking the courtyard below. The only time it was used recently was to let Calen fly up to the veranda so that we could bond. I tried to get a glimpse of her, wondering where they were keeping her. She would have loved to have been out flying on a day such as this, to soar in the wind and bask in the sun as she glided through the air. How I yearned to see her free again.

  However, I could not see anything. They must have been keeping her cooped up inside somewhere. I hoped desperately that she was not caged, though I feared deep down that she would be. It was agonizingly empty being without her, not feeling her strength at all. The lorda potion they were injecting into her system daily was completely shutting out any connection with her. It drove me wild with vexation that an elda would be harsh with a Fëa.

  How could my own people be so inexorable toward the sacred creatures? It was heartless and unforgiving. A Maite’Ona and their Fëa were highly revered in olden days. To be born with a priceless gift and find your Fëa soulmate was a deep treasure—an esteemed honor. How much had changed over the cycles. To begin from esteemed honor and end as undignified slaves was disgraceful.

  Aselaira needed a fresh beginning—a clean slate, to finally once again be ruled by its rightful monarch. Only then would the land fully and completely heal.

  The citizens of Aselaira knew not of its despoiled state. Long ago forgotten was the joyful reign of a true monarch. In my eighteen cycles, all under the reign of King Ohtar, I knew nothing of joy or contentedness in the kingdom. Over the cycles, I had heard small whispers of a joyous time previously known among the people of Aselaira. King Remydan and his queen, Lirima, had been deeply loved by all their subjects.

  If only Remycah could take his place as king, all would be right in the land. I dearly prayed the citizens of Aselaira lived to see that happen.

  My mind wandered back to Námoman and why he had helped to keep my secret. He was a Truth Seeker, and he had lied to the King in order to protect me. Why, I did not know. I wished desperately to ask him of this, but I had not seen him since. If the King had found out, he would have put us both to death instantly. I did not understand why a stranger would risk their life for a slave—a prisoner. Even so, he had saved us all.

  Later, during the middle of the night, I concentrated on creating a dream for Rydan. I recalled Remycah’s words that perhaps Rydan needed to observe for himself the doomed state of Aselaira. I could show images of its chaos and misery to help in aiding him to accept who he was and what he needed to do. I felt relieved that Remycah was out there looking for him. By the Sea and Stars, I prayed that they were already reunited and could stay together.

  I created the same scene as every other night—Castle Edhel-N’dor loomed in the distance. Standing at the cliff, watching the waves crashing over the rocks below, I sensed Rydan in the dream. I turned around to find him looking not much different than he did the other night, yet the sight of him still made my stomach clench. I decided not to waste any time or give thought of my feelings for him.

  Giving a smile, I walked right up to him saying, “Rydan, has Remycah located you yet?”

  He did not back away this time, but I could still sense his hesitation. “No. And I don’t want him to.” He shrugged.

  “Why ever not? It is imperative you rendezvous with him. Time is of the essence. You do not understand what will happen if you are caught. If your uncle finds you, there is
no doubt you will be killed. I fear for you, Rydan.” I stood right before him, and without thinking, I reached forward to grab his left hand. However, he pulled away and placed both hands in his pockets. My heart stung yet again.

  He sighed heavily and said, “I have no idea where he is. I have no idea where I am. I’m just trying to figure out what all this means.”

  Smiling up at him, I responded, “He is on your trail as we speak. Let him catch up to you. Do not veer from your path, and listen to what Remycah has to say. Do not fight your true purpose.”

  How I wished I could touch him and offer comfort. I gazed into his captivating eyes. My heart descended when he unexpectedly took one more step further from me.

  “This is all so strange. And I don’t even know your name,” he whispered.

  “My name is Naminé,” I replied. He shot his head upward with a heart-shattering expression that I could not define. I closed the space he created between us in a new fervor.

  “Please, Rydan. Let me show you something and perhaps you shall feel differently,” I told him. “It may seem strange at first, but you must allow it to happen. Close your eyes.”

  Hoping that he complied, I reached out to take his wrist and squeezed my hands around his clenched fist. He did not pull away and he did not look at me. I wanted his trust, and I needed him to see for himself.

  Wearing a perplexed look, he said, “You want to show me something, but you tell me to close my eyes?”

  Chuckling at his question, I fervently nodded my head as he reluctantly complied. Once his eyes were closed, I did the same and concentrated on sending images. I felt him stand rigid in place.

  Isil’Elda and Tavas’Elda met on the battlefield. Hatred and bloodshed permeated the minds of those involved in the slaughter. Though of the same species, the same brotherhood, the Isil’Elda of the night and Tavas’Elda of the woodlands united in the dance of death. There was no order. There was no peace. Havoc and chaos was their single goal. They did not know why they fought, why they killed, or why they died for their kingdom. Even so, it was their duty, their honor, showing their obedience to their realm. Both sides fought for the same end, but why—Why did they fight?

  Three beautiful elda women strolled out onto a courtyard, two of them clearly enjoyed being outside in the brilliant moonlight. However, the third projected a despondent grimace and gloomy demeanor. You could not see her face as she sullenly sat by herself on a bench overlooking what was once a beautiful flower garden. Dejected and broken, she wasted away to nothing as the years went by and hope drew thin. By the stance of the other elda women and the guards that had stood watch, this woman was indeed an important Emissary. It was none other than Queen Lirima, whom had rarely been seen since Ohtar brutally murdered her united mate in secret and covered it up by leading the people to believe that a Tavas’Elda killed their king. Devastated by her mate’s death and the apparent loss of her two sons, she began the betrayal of leading her sons to safety. Sending them with their two Guardians to protect them and hide them from Ohtar, only to wonder each and every day if they were even alive.

  Suddenly, my hand was being squeezed tighter, and I let the images go. I opened my eyes to see Rydan’s were no longer the smooth silver of before, but were now shining a slightly darker shade of grey.

  “Rydan, you must understand. The war that has been enraging in Luïnil between Aselaira and Lassaira will come to an end. One side will lose. It would be devastating for either Kingdom. We must not let that happen. The fate of our people is uncertain. This war has caused much heartache, and only Remycah will have the power to set things right, once he becomes king. And there are those who yearn for you Rydan, for you to come home.”

  He pulled out of my grasp and turned toward the castle. After raking both his hands through his hair he asked, “What do I do then? What can I do?”

  Sighing inwardly at missing his touch, I replied, “You must find Remycah. Stay with him. It is vital you both embark on your Maranwe journey to discover your Fëa. Only then will you both be powerful enough and able to take on Ohtar and his minions.”

  He suddenly turned my way, the expression on his face was utter astonishment. “My—Maran...What?” he quizzically asked while walking back to stand before me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Mentally shuddering, I recalled he was raised an Earthling and would not know of him being a royal Maite’Ona. How did one define a most precious esteemed privilege of the entire elda species?

  “I will do my best to explain, difficult as that may be,” I started. “I am a Maite’Ona, which in the common tongue translates to ‘Wielder of Special Gift.’ As you know, I am an Olor I’lanya, a weaver of dreams. That is my gift. However, I receive my strength from my Fëa. She is a phoenix, a rare creature, but together we have the power to weave dreams. Without her strength, I am nothing at all. When a Maite’Ona is birthed, their Fëa counterpart is also birthed somewhere else at the same time. Once a Maite’Ona reaches wea, or adulthood, and realize their special gift, they embark on their Maranwe Journey. It is a very sacred passage one must take in order to find their fellow Fëa. It is a highly treasured task for all Maite’Ona.”

  “And how do you I know I am a…Maite- whatever? Are all elves one?”

  “No, not every elda is born with a gift,” I answered. “However, you are of royalty, Rydan. All those royal by blood are birthed a Maite’Ona. When you were birthed eighteen cycles ago, your Fëa counterpart was also birthed somewhere at the same time. You only must make your journey to find him or her.”

  Both hands rested on the top of his head after this revelation. His eyes were now closed, and he suddenly looked extremely worn out. “I’m seventeen, not eighteen,” he murmured.

  I could not help the furrowing of my brow at his statement, but decided to let it go. He was dealing with enough as it was.

  “Remycah will be able to explain further, Rydan. That is why you must find him. Alone, you will not accomplish anything. Together, with your Fëa, you will be a force to reckon with. Only then can you return to Aselaira and gain the kingdom that is rightfully yours.”

  With his hands still on his head, he opened his eyes. He lightly shook his head while saying, “This is just...insane. I mean, I always knew I had—”

  Abruptly, without any warning whatsoever, the dream disappeared and he was gone. I groggily woke to a sinister expression plastered on King Ohtar’s face as he loomed over me. My breath caught, and I suddenly got a tortured feeling deep in my being.

  “Wake up, Dhaeraow. I have a directive for you,” King Ohtar said with an evil twinkle in his eye. I did not like the tone of his voice, seemingly amused and oddly cheerful. It was disheartening. This would not be pleasant.

  I hastily sat up and waited for his torturing words.

  “I want you to summon and dream-weave with…an acquaintance of mine,” he said with a sly smirk on his face.

  I could not fathom whom else he would want me to connect with, surely—

  “He lives deep in the Nura’ringul Mountains, surrounded by ice and flames,” he said while walking to the foot of the bed.

  Ice and flames? That was a bad omen—a foreboding of something terrible and dangerous. The only worse thing known to an elda was that of one connected with shadow and great winds. A Shape-shifter—a great evil destined to be an abomination, a torment of utter proportions.

  “His name is Dae’Sûl.”

  I shivered as a great breeze tore about the room and then suddenly vanished as if called somewhere else. My insides racked with pain and seemed to melt inside as he mentioned that terrifying name. King Ohtar then touched his hand to my forehead, knowing it was the way a Dream Weaver gains the vision of a subject had they not met before. The touch sent me a distorted image of an old elda living deep in the snowy mountains. The image was faint and blurry, but enough for me to use and connect with him.

  Dae’Sûl.

  Shadow Wind.

  His sinister laughter could s
till be heard several moments after the King left my chambers. I shivered uncontrollably and huddled in the blankets, but not because of being cold. The fear that name provoked was terrifying. I knew the King was evil, but it was one thing to build a fire, quite another to play with it. This was far worse than playing with fire. It was as if he invited massive deadly flames into his cherished home, welcoming it to devour his dwelling and the family that was inside.

  How desperate the King must be to have summoned a Shadow Wind Shape-shifter. I was appalled at having the task to dream-weave with him, let alone connect my mind with his. I shuddered at the thought as tears strolled down my face.

  Elda Shape-shifters were a rarity. There were only a few known to have existed in the past thirteen thousand cycles.

  Even so, to be connected with the shadow and great winds, let alone ice and flames from deep in the Nura’ringul Mountains, was the root of evil nature–a vile abomination.

  I could not get out of this duty, but must put forth much courage to accomplish this heinous task. I desperately wanted to be someplace–any place–else, for I did not want to invite great evil into my mind.

  Nonetheless, I only had to deliver a brief message and be done with it. I would have to suffer through connecting my mind with his, praying dearly that he would not harm me. I did not think that could be done in a dream, but this was a Shadow Wind Maite’Ona. I could not even begin to comprehend what he could do if given the chance.

  Unlike when connecting with N’taurn and creating an environment disagreeable to him, I decided to come to Dae’Sûl’s element and create a scene in the snowy mountains that were his home. As I tried to prepare myself for this disgraceful act, I embraced Calen tightly and advised her to break contact if something untoward should happen. I prayed that he would not have the power to reach Calen, but one could not be too careful.

  Closing my eyes and slowly finding slumber, I took a deep breath before connecting with Dae’Sûl’s mind. I created the dream and huddled against the bitter cold. I brought us to a small pass situated between two mountains. Reluctantly, I brought his face to mind and connected our dreams.