The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bailey Ardisone

  At first, I felt nothing. I had weaved our dreams together successfully, but felt nothing coming from him. We were connected, but I had no indication if he was there, or in what state of mind he would be in.

  It snowed ever-so lightly, and even though the sun brightly shone above, I shivered in the freezing cold temperature. Wrapping my heavy cloak tighter and up around my face, I took a few steps and wandered about in the snow.

  Suddenly, I got a slight sense of something coming from the East. I quickly turned to face the Eastern end of the mountain range, and even though I could not see him, I knew he was here somewhere.

  Again, I faintly sensed an essence, but now coming from the West. I whipped around and tried to focus on what was in front of me. I saw nothing.

  Looking around, I realized the snow was thicker and I could hardly see a foot in front of me. Slowly, I began walking to the West, when without warning I sensed something—this time to the North. I stopped and turned my body to the right, but alas, nothing again.

  My breathing quickened as I started to understand that he was playing with me, trying to trap me in his game. I all too soon did not want to be there anymore, and when I thought that perhaps I should end this charade, the ground that I stood upon started to shake. I took a few steps backward and ended up with my back against the frigid mountain. After several seconds of incessant trembling, it felt like the mountain was going to collapse.

  A loud thud to my right made me look over and up to see a giant avalanche of snow and ice tumbling down the side of the mountain, only to land a few feet from where I stood in a matter of seconds. I began to run in the opposite direction, but the slippery, icy snow prevented me from making it very far. I struggled with all my might to make my way to safety. Where did one hide from an avalanche?

  Faintly, I heard deep sinister laughter in the air. I abruptly stopped and stood firm. Shaking my head fervently, I remembered this was my dream. I controlled the elements of what I created. Turning to look around, I spotted the huge avalanche that was storming down the mountain, heading my way. With an extra pull from Calen and deep focus, I concentrated on stopping the avalanche. Closing my eyes tight, I summoned all my strength. When I opened my eyes again, the once-tumbling avalanche had now turned to a powdery snowfall.

  With a huge sigh of relief, I collapsed to the ground despite the icy snow. My heavy breathing was the only sound in the air, when unexpectedly a dark shape loomed over me. I dared not look up, for just noticing his silhouetted shadow on the ground was enough to make me tremble. As several moments passed, I closed my eyes tightly and waited with dread.

  “You are stronger than I assumed, Olor I’lanya,” his deep voice resonated.

  After taking a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes and picked my head up just slightly. Never meeting his eyes, I softly spoke, “I have a message…from King Ohtar.”

  Still looming over me, his shadow began to shake lightly, matching the movements of his deep laughter.

  “And you do his bidding, little crow?”

  I nodded slightly and delivered the message. “Seize your inner shadow Corvus to elicit the lawful beneficiary, and we shall confer suitable price.”

  No longer hearing laughter from his direction, I unexpectedly sensed thick tension in the air. Braving a look, I cringed as he suddenly spoke in a whispered evil tone, “He is here.”

  I wildly searched for the newcomer, not sensing a third presence despite him saying so. Then, something about the way he stated those words forced my eyes back to him.

  Though he stared up into the snow-filled sky, I deduced that he contemplated an evil scheme. His massive body towered above me, as his long, deep red, flowing locks blew around in the wind, gently striking my face. He was fully clothed in black gear with a hefty silver cloak around his neck.

  I knew not what the cryptic message denoted or whom he was speaking about, but I knew I needed to get out of there right away.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to disconnect my mind from the dream, but something was stopping me. I tensed as I realized I somehow could not escape his hold. I reluctantly opened my eyes and looked up to find him blasting his bright green eyes into mine. Seeing the mixture of swirling greens was astounding, shocking my system. I was captured into staring into the emerald color before me.

  “I give you leave, Olor I’lanya,” he whispered deeply as I realized his hold on me loosened. I grasped at the hole in the connection and was thrust into sudden darkness.

  Stirring awake, I rose to see Calen lying beside me, gently wrapping her wings around my cold trembling body. I clenched her tightly and basked in her comfort.

  After several long moments encased in her soft feathers, I sat back and contemplated what had just occurred. What was that cryptic message in reference to? Who was he, and what did he have in common with the King’s message? The Shadow Wind said he was here, but I had not felt him.

  I once again lay beside Calen and replayed the message back in my head. Seize your inner shadow Corvus to elicit the lawful beneficiary, and we shall confer suitable price.

  The King obviously wanted the Shape-shifter to do something in exchange for a price, but what? Elicit the lawful beneficiary. What did he want him to draw out, to find?

  The lawful beneficiary—Lawful—legitimate, valid? Beneficiary—heir? The valid heir?

  By the Sea and Stars! He was talking about the rightful king, the true heir—Remycah. Elicit the lawful beneficiary—in other words—find and bring the true heir. Oh dear, he was bidding a Shape-shifter to look for Remycah. An evil abomination summoned to hunt for him. Ohtar’s patience with his current hunters had grown thin. His will to capture Remycah was certain to be accomplished now, if Dae’Sûl was involved.

  I must warn Remycah. He needed to know the evil that was hunting him, but what was it that he must look out for? What was it the King had said? Seize your inner shadow Corvus?

  Dae'Sûl was a Shape-shifter, able to enter and command the body of his Fëa. Corvus—Corvus—? The King was asking him to seize his inner shadow, to become the Corvus. This would allow him to hunt and capture Remycah.

  Shaking my head vehemently, I realized I did not know the meaning. Nonetheless, I must warn Remycah that he was being hunted.

  Perhaps he would know the meaning of Corvus.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~Nari~

  I carefully moved my body as I struggled to stand up straight all the way. I stretched my sore, aching muscles as far as I could—

  Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch! My neck and back were now riddled with knots. I kicked the stone ground with the tip of my boot and silently cursed it. This was not going to be fun. Hiking across a strange land with a broken neck and back?! No thank you.

  “Finally. I was beginning to think you were never going to wake,” the blond-haired boy mused as he rifled through his pouch. “You can have my mastas again and my extra water flask if you want it.” He handed me more of the fluffy strawberry bread and his small, black leather, perfectly round water bottle. Yes, it was actually round—like a bomb. I took the intriguing item from his hand and rolled it around my palms.

  My eyes bulged at the beautiful emblem engraved on the front.

  Mycah’s tattoo.

  It was the emblem that represented the Night Elves.

  “I love it. Can I—um, may I please keep this? I mean, if that’s okay.” I looked up into the boy’s pale green eyes and held my breath in anticipation of his words. I really, really wanted to keep it.

  Forever.

  It was exceptionally awesome. A leather strap was knotted around the neck and the coolest plug I’d ever seen kept the water captive inside. The plug looked like it was made of bone.

  “I do not understand. Why would you want that? It was made by your enemy. It bears the very emblem you were born to hate,” he scoffed disdainfully, making his foreign accent stronger.

  “But I don’t hate it. I don’t hate them. How could I?” I wanted to explain that I felt quite the opposit
e about those darn Night Elves—I was pretty much in love with one of them, and my absolute best friend was their prince. How could I possibly hate them?

  “You can have it...but I wouldn’t be making that known around Lassaira. Lord Döron will not be pleased if you end up killed because of disloyalty, with or without the King’s knowledge,” he warned.

  “Okay. Thank you. I appreciate you helping me and feeding me and keeping me alive. Honestly. I don’t know where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for you.” I gave him a smile and hoped he knew how grateful I was for him risking his own life to save mine.

  “You are welcome.” He scrunched his eyebrows together as he gazed at me.

  “What?” I jammed my hair behind my ear and looked at my feet nervously. I didn’t like the scrutiny behind his eyes.

  “I cannot figure you out. I sense mixed beings exuding from you,” he explained, but I only felt my confusion deepen.

  “Is that bad?” I squeaked out nervously.

  “Perhaps. You are different. I suppose we can leave it at that. Shall we go?” he inquired with a lift of his brow. He gestured toward the exit and I nodded in reply, not really sure if I could find actual words. I got stuck on the ‘perhaps’ part.

  We moved past the roaring waterfall, and I again clung to the side of the mountain cliff, desperate not to fall off. I didn’t even chance a glance in the boy’s direction. I would just assume he was already way beyond the danger-zone and stood comfortably on the other side waiting for me.

  “Menelmara!” he exclaimed. “Will you always be this slow?”

  I assumed correctly.

  “Will you just hold your elfy-pants on for a second! I'm moving as fast as I can,” I shot back, trying not to laugh. Giggling was not an option right now when any slight movement could pitch me into oblivion.

  I heard him sigh exasperatedly. That right there almost had me laughing again. I finally took my last step off the narrow path and bent over with my hands resting on my knees.

  Phew.

  I made it.

  “Must I remind you again that you are an elda? You naturally are born with impeccable balance and light-footedness. You wouldn’t have fallen.” He bent down to meet my eye level and moved my newly wet hair from my face.

  I immediately shot up straight as an arrow from the intimate gesture. Okay, it really wasn’t that intimate—just caught me off guard.

  He continued when I didn’t say anything, “Do you understand? You must have elda instincts in you somewhere.”

  “I’ve never seen any,” I scoffed. “Maybe I’m a dud.” He laughed in response and shook his head, not believing me. We passed through the invisible protected threshold and into the clearing.

  “Impossible. Only the truly rare possess coria eyes,” he explained with certainty as we continued to make our way further into the lush forest.

  I stopped walking. “Wait, what? Coria? What is that?” I asked, fully confused. He stopped walking, too.

  “Your eyes—their color,” he answered with a smirk and pinched his eyebrows together again, probably wondering how I could be so ignorant. But I was. I had no clue what he was talking about. “Do not tell me you didn’t know you had purple eyes.”

  “No, of course I knew. I may be blind, but I am not completely blind. I just have no idea what you mean by the rare only having them. Sheesh.” I moved the leafy branches out of the way so I wouldn’t get slapped in the face and opened my mouth to complain.

  Except the boy pulled me backward against him with a hand covering my mouth, holding in my scream.

  “Shh,” he barely whispered next to my head.

  My eyes felt like they were bugging out of their sockets. What was he doing?

  “Don’t you feel that? An Isil’Elda convoy—they’re waiting for us,” he breathed through a whisper right against my ear. I focused my attention on trying to ‘feel’ what he was talking about as my heart jumped to my throat.

  Then it slammed down into my stomach upon a spike of danger I felt erupt throughout my spine. I could feel it—he was right. I could feel the evil lurking on every side of us.

  They stepped out behind their concealed lookout corners armed with iron-tipped wooden arrows. It looked just like the one Mycah had had shot through his body, and I felt myself grow sick. The boy released me immediately and took a protective stance. Fear gripped at every part of my body.

  There were only three of them—that wasn’t much—right?

  They all dressed the same—black garments clad with simple, but thick, leather armor. The trend continued when I noticed all three had the same long, dark colored hair as well.

  One of them began speaking to us in Elvish, and the way he spoke the words made my chest knot into a pretzel. His voice was deep and rumbly, resembling thunder. I swore the atmosphere around us grew darker, and a cold wind whipped my hair around my face.

  “Antolle ulua sulrim,” the boy on my side responded in an icy tone. “Amin feuya ten' lle.”

  I had no idea what they said to each other, but all three of the Night Elves laughed in a sickening roar.

  The boy, almost too fast for my eyes to see, snatched an arrow from his quiver that hung against his back and suddenly thrust it into the closest enemy’s heart, not even bothering to use his bow.

  My mouth dropped open in shock.

  The Night Elf clutched the wound for only a moment before he fell to his knees, then all the way to the ground—dead.

  Before any of the others could react, the boy called out to me in a blur, “Do your very best. Follow your instincts. Now!”

  And then it began.

  The boy quickly moved backward to put space between himself and the rest, while pulling his bow from its place on his back. I had no time to comprehend what was going on or what to do, because one of the Night Elves immediately attacked me by shooting his waiting arrow.

  I instinctively dodged out of the way, not really knowing how I was able to do that, and ran as far back as I could. He only followed. He pulled his menacing sword out of its sheath and took careful steps toward me, baring a wicked grin. I shook violently and grasped at the concept of ‘remaining calm and going by instinct.’ I wanted to believe I could do that—I had to.

  For just a slight moment of time, my mind focused on how intricate and beautiful the sword before me was. It was interesting to look at, and even the shiny metal had a masterful design engraved along its length. It was artfully crafted, and although I was in dire straits, I couldn't deny having admiration over the elven-way I’d been suddenly submerged in.

  For the briefest of seconds, I dwelled on the fact that I wanted to be a part of it. I felt proud to be an...elf.

  The adrenaline that pumped through my veins gave no room for fear, and so I no longer felt incapacitated by that fear; instead I pulled on it and used it to fuel my actions. The split second before he engaged me in battle, I rolled in the direction of the fallen elf and drew the sword he had strapped to his waist. I heard my oncoming opponent grunt in frustration, and I instantly shot back up to a standing position, mimicking the stance the boy had taken earlier.

  I recalled the way Mycah had fought Nikolai after I had been captured. It had been artful and smooth. The Night Elf said a few things in Elvish as he drew closer, but I ignored him. I quickly looked to the boy from the corner of my eye to make sure he was okay. The other Night Elf appeared to be gaining the upper hand on him. Oh no.

  I didn’t have time to think about it as the one I was in battle with lunged at me in attack-mode. I did my best to deflect and hated to admit I just came extremely close to losing my life. I tried desperately to find my inner calm.

  I allowed the instincts I didn’t even know I had to take over completely as I made my first offensive attack. I wielded the sword in a fiery way and relished the normalcy of it. It felt alarmingly comfortable doing this, as strange as that might be.

  However, it was not enough. The Night Elf was fierce and kept out of harm’s reach. He came a
t me time and again while I tried to unleash the same attacks in return.

  At the sound of the boy’s strangled yelp of pain, I tore my eyes from my ongoing—albeit losing—battle to assess the damage. The other Night Elf that he fought impaled him with his sword, causing me to cry out in anguish, as if the horrid sight in front of me ripped the scream from the pits of my gut.

  With that came clarity and a sense of enlightenment as I became thrust into protective-mode. I felt connected to some unknown, extremely comforting force. Suddenly, without knowing what I was doing, I began speaking in Elvish.

  “Yala onna en' kemen.” It was as if the very words were drilled into my head and they were desperate to be called out. Instantly, the ground shook beneath our feet and knocked both Night Elves to their knees.

  The words kept coming, “Lanta en' kalale.” They sped through the wind and up toward the sky.

  Lightning. Literally, lightning cracked like spider-webs throughout the bright blue sky and struck down toward the land, executing the two Night Elves in a nanosecond.

  I dropped to my knees in horror at what I’d just done. I clung to my throat and choked on my silent shock. My eyes were wide, and I struggled to get a grip.

  I killed two people. I killed—two actual persons. I took their lives like it was nothing.

  “Nariella—” the boy rasped in pain. I lurched forward, startled by his voice. He’s not dead?!

  I immediately ran to him slumped against a tree. He was covered in blood and held onto the beautiful, wicked sword plunged into his torso.

  Tears streamed down my face as I tried to remove the weapon in a sickening attempt. I held my breath to abstain from the rusty smell of blood I knew to be wafting around me at that very moment. His eyes grew dark and hung half closed.

  “Please! I don’t even know your name.” I worked to get the words out through a strain of emotions filling my throat. This was all my fault.