The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

Home > Fantasy > The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4 > Page 50
The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 50

by Bailey Ardisone


  “Do you want to die?” he interrupted my internal thoughts by asking his question fiercely.

  “You’re not allowed to read my mind! You promised me you would never do that!” I accused, feeling betrayed.

  “Had I not, you’d be dead on the ground right now, love,” he explained in a quiet rush. I stared up at him.

  “Why?” I whispered breathlessly. He only shook his head and walked away, catching up with Sarqua. I stormed after him.

  We made it to the stables, and I stopped.

  “What the heck are those?!” I screeched.

  “Griffins,” Mycah drawled. Oh. Right. Of course, because that was the most normal thing in the world to be kept in stables.

  Three horses stood saddled and readied, their reins held by two servants. Sarqua mounted a dark brown horse with a patch of white in the shape of a diamond along its forehead, and the servant handed him the reins. Mycah took one set of reins out of the two that a servant held and gracefully leapt onto the back of a beautiful black stallion. It had a shiny stark white mane and tail in contrast to its darker than night body. The same white hair streaked each one of its feet. I had never seen a horse so beautiful before.

  Both Mycah and Sarqua looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to do something.

  “Make haste, Fallaner,” Sarqua ordered impatiently. I slowly walked up to the last horse that must've been meant for me and gently slid my fingers along its warm, creamy skin spotted with dusty grey stripes and patterns. Its long tail was braided, but its beautiful cream and grey mane was left out loose and free.

  “Hi,” I whispered softly to the horse. It twitched its ears and blew air out of its nose. Seeing it was female, I mounted the mare with ease.

  The servant handed me the reins. “Her name is Ast’Quessé, My Lady,” the young stable boy announced.

  “Dust Feather,” Mycah translated for me. I nodded in return. Pretty.

  I was quite comfortable on a horse, thanks to Rydan. He taught me how to ride a long time ago. His family owns several on their many-acred property.

  As soon as I was settled, Sarqua commanded his horse to begin our journey, followed by Mycah and myself.

  We rode in silence, trapped in our own thoughts, for hours on end. I admired the beauty of the land the entire time. We went along gorgeous green rolling hills. Icy clear springs that ran along the ground like cracks, jagged snowy mountains, and fields of flowers in every color were my favorite things to have passed.

  It was well into the night, and my eyelids grew heavy from having stayed up the entire night before and not sleeping during the day like everyone else had done.

  I began to drift off, as much as I tried to fight it, and kept almost slipping off the horse. The sound of Sarqua’s voice jolted me upright.

  “Halt. We shall give our horses rest,” he announced as he slowed and dismounted. Mycah did the same.

  Ugh. I was too tired, so I dragged myself off Ast’Quessé, then immediately lay down on the ground. My thighs and butt were numb and tingling. The sensation of movement still plagued me when I closed my eyes. I had to keep opening them and focus on the sky or my surroundings to verify I wasn’t actually moving anymore.

  I gasped at the stars above. It was an explosion of sparkling glitter among a black backdrop. Each star was so bright and visible—I froze at the beauty of it.

  “Here,” I heard Mycah’s voice say next to me. I turned my head to find he was crouched to my right, handing me a canteen, bread, and pear. I took the items and set them down on my left. I was too exhausted to drink or eat.

  “Nariella, please. You must eat.” My heart thumped at the way he said my name. Like it was sacred. Forbidden. “You would be no use to us weak and passed out from hunger.”

  I scoffed inwardly at myself for thinking he cared.

  “I’m too tired,” I explained flatly.

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t have stayed up all day then,” he reasoned, his English accent clipped at the words. I slowly brought my gaze to his. Beautiful and captivating as always—so not fair.

  “How would you know if I did or didn’t go to sleep all day?” I questioned skeptically. He sighed and ran a hand through his sexy hair.

  “I just know,” he replied tightly.

  “How?” I pushed for a proper answer.

  “Because I can acutely feel you all the bloody time when you are this close to me!” he confessed gruffly and with exasperation, standing straight up again.

  “Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry. Is that a bad thing?”

  “It is when I can’t—” he stopped himself, “when I don’t want to.” He turned around and walked away, leaving my heart bleeding and bare.

  I pushed the feelings and thoughts from my tired mind as I turned on my side, closing my eyes. I instantly fell asleep.

  What felt like only a few minutes later, I was awoken by an ugly, guttural scream. I jolted upright at the same moment Mycah yelled, “Skultors!”

  To my morbid horror, wicked gangly creatures that looked like dirty, slimy aliens jumped and bounced around us in a craze. They were tall, skinny, mangled...and utterly frightening. Fear clutched my every atom as I watched Mycah unsheathe his sword. Sarqua was also armed and prepared.

  “Mycah! I need a weapon!” I called out with a trembling voice.

  “My bow and quiver are on my horse. Don’t get anywhere near them. At close proximity, they manipulate you to look into their eye then feed off your soul until you’re returned to a pile of dust,” Mycah answered calmly.

  At first I thought he mistakenly said eye instead of eyes, but that was when I noticed each and every one of them all had black spots where eyes would normally be and a single tiny eye in the middle of their giant foreheads. Their skin was grey and clammy. Just the sight of them made me want to puke.

  I ran to Mycah’s horse and pulled out the bow and arrows, strapping the quiver to my back. I was pretty sure I could do this. It had been a while, but Rydan, who was a master archer, also taught me how to shoot an arrow. I didn’t practice much, because it always hurt my fingers and he kept forgetting to bring me gloves. But he taught me the basics.

  I prayed I could only remember what they were.

  I had no time to think, because in the few seconds it took for me to ask for a weapon and to actually retrieve it, the disgusting creatures were already attacking.

  I watched as Mycah effortlessly sliced away one after the other. Sarqua wasn’t bad either—it was obvious he was a skilled fighter.

  I drew an arrow and set it up in the bow. It slipped a few times before I got it fit just right. I was nervous. I took a few calming breaths as I pinched the butt in between my left fingers and lined up my shot with my target. I pulled backward as far as it would stretch then pointed it up so that it would make the distance once I let go.

  I released the arrow between my fingers and watched it shoot from me with precision and rip through the nasty head of a Skultor.

  “Yes!” I squealed with delight at myself. Feeling brave and proud, I shot several more times, but missed more than a few. I scolded myself internally and focused.

  And then from there, it was cake. One after the other, I did not miss a single shot. But there were hundreds, and it felt like the battle would never end.

  From my peripheral, I noticed a Skultor knock Sarqua’s sword from his hands, simultaneously knocking him to the ground with it. His sword skittered from him, which was halfway to where I stood.

  The gangly Skultor perched over Sarqua, and I stood frozen in place for a moment, caught wondering what was about to happen. The tiny eye on the Skultor’s forehead grew several sizes bigger. It opened its vicious mouth, which was clad in rows of razor sharp teeth, and I swore there were black swirls of distorted smoke billowing out toward Sarqua’s heart.

  I sprinted for Sarqua’s fallen sword and snatched it up mid-run. The black smoke grew closer and closer to Sarqua’s body, who stayed stunned and trapped by the enlarged bloodshot eye. It was about t
o touch him, or go through him—I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was going to be too late. It was millimeters away from feeding on his soul, if not already.

  I let out a cry of determination as I approached, and with all of my might and effort I thrust the sword using every ounce of strength I could conjure up into the Skultor’s stomach.

  A sickening gurgle erupted from its gut, and a high-pitched screeching cry echoed in the atmosphere. I did not let go of the sword to cover my ears from the sound. I kept my eyes on the dimming life before me and watched it go completely out. I felt drunk with power and justified vengeance.

  I shook my head to dispel the emotions and took a step back, finally dropping the sword. I didn’t like feeling that way. But these creatures were sick monsters who fed off your life-source. I hated them instantly.

  At the same time, a sliver of sun shone upon us, rising above the horizon. The hundreds of Skultors that were left surrounding us cried out and abandoned the fight, as if the tiny light particles burned their skin.

  Sarqua rose to his feet and dusted himself off. He picked up his sword that lay at my feet and cleaned it off with a cloth. My eyes were solely focused on the fallen Skultor I had just impaled. I received no thanks or acknowledgement for saving the Night Elf’s life.

  The Skultor’s bloody innards were spilled onto the ground in a black pile of disgustingness. I gagged at the putrid smell that burned my nose. As the sun danced brighter in the sky, I watched the body and guts dry up and disintegrate into black dust. At the graceful sun’s touch, the rest of the fallen bodies followed suit.

  “Let us make haste. We have many kin in need of our aid,” Sarqua said as he stalked toward his horse and mounted it.

  Mycah wiped off his own sword and began preparing for our departure. I went to do the same, except—Where was Ast’Quessé?

  Crap.

  I had been too exhausted to tie her up when we had stopped. Shoot. I turned around and around in circles but did not see her. She must've taken off when the Skultors invaded. My chest tightened, and I closed my eyes. Sarqua was going to be so pissed.

  “Ummm...” I began, but didn’t know how to say it. “My horse...is gone,” I choked out timidly. Sarqua snapped his head in my direction, and Mycah closed his eyes but did not move besides that.

  “What?” Sarqua bit out.

  “I’m sorry...I was so tired, I didn’t think,” I explained regretfully.

  Sarqua let out a frustrated sigh. “She will ride with you, Remycah. I will not deal with her anymore,” he ground out through his teeth.

  My heart, stomach, pulse, toes—you name it—all did a somersault within at his glorious words. That was the best command I had heard anyone give yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ~Naminé~

  Rydan slept soundly beside me. It was easier for him to sleep during the night, for he was used to it. I, however, was accustomed to sleeping during the day. That was the Isil’Elda way. We were night creatures. I lay staring up at the sparkling sky from what I could see through the gaps in the trees.

  I felt Calen at her perch from the top, keeping watch. It was so comforting having her near me like this. Having her free to do as she pleased.

  The lukewarm air fanned over our bodies, picking up my hair and tossing it on the way. I caught Rydan’s enticing scent in the wind’s tendrils.

  Yes, he did rather smell like a human, but it was intriguing. More than that, there was a certain rustic fragrance that I readily fancied. It curled my toes pleasurably and set my nerves on edge. It was a terrible feat to not glance his way every few seconds.

  We had traveled as far as we could during the day. Rydan was certain that we were going the correct way, and I trusted that he was right. I remembered my Maranwe Journey and how long it had taken me. I traveled a day and a half before I had found my Fëa, and then the hardships I had endured to find her would not be something that I could easily forget. Then it had been another day and a half journey home. I had had a brutal beating awaiting my return.

  Calen suddenly landed on the ground next to me and nuzzled her body next to mine. “Nae saian luume,” I said to her wholeheartedly, for it truly had been too long since we could be together freely. I felt her agreement and contentment through her emotions. I caressed her silky feathers, and it helped lull me to sleep.

  I awoke with a fright, clutching at any object in my vicinity. I encountered a warm, smooth...something. Once I came to my senses, I realized it was Rydan’s hand. His silver eyes appraised me with full concern.

  “Shhh,” he soothed. “I think you were having a nightmare, but it’s over now, okay? You’re okay.”

  “Oh, was I?” I stated weakly, not actually requesting an answer. “Forgive me, Rydan, if I woke you.”

  “It’s okay, don’t apologize. What were you dreaming about?” he inquired softly.

  I took a deep breath and prepared myself mentally for what I was about to say, for I was not yet over it. “My brother. I believe him to be dead, and it haunts me constantly,” I answered sullenly.

  “You have a brother?” he asked with surprise.

  “I do. He is younger in cycles, but he does not behave like it. I am quite close to him. I cannot stand the thought of him gone. I just cannot.” I held back my tears. I did not wish to cry in front of Rydan. It was terribly difficult.

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured sweetly, caressing my hair from my face.

  “Mother and Father will be so heartbroken. We all loved him dearly.” I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the quiver of my chin. The strain to hold back my sobs caused my eyes and throat to ache.

  “But you don’t know for sure he is dead, right?” he questioned, and rightly so. However, I already knew there could be no hope left.

  “I suppose I do not. There is no absolute proof, but he did not return from battle with his convoy. Even Ohtar himself confirmed his death.” A tear made its way down my cheek. Rydan gently wiped it away.

  “You should know more than anyone not to trust Ohtar. He’d probably say anything just to rattle your cage,” he reasoned.

  “I do see the logic in that and is what I wanted to believe, as well. I refused to wholly believe he was dead. But every day I tried to connect with his mind and dream-weave, yet I could not. There was nothing. I could not connect,” I cried. “So what else am I to believe?”

  Rydan pulled me along his chest and wrapped his strong arms around me. It was instantly comforting. I buried my wet face in his neck and finally let the tears fall. I had no other choice. There was no holding them back any longer.

  I did not only mourn the death of my brother, but I greatly missed my mother and father. I feared their disappointment in me, and I hated to think of their sadness once they discovered their only son’s demise. I did not believe they could handle the news. My poor mother would be devastated.

  Rydan ran his fingers along the length of my back. I did my best to draw my full attention to the way his fingers glided over my body. I was in dire need of a distraction.

  I listened to the way his heart sounded below my ear. The beat was almost melodic, and it was beautiful. I never could have known such a sound could be so wonderful. I used it to soothe my aching heart.

  Calen laid her head on my arm in attempt to give me comfort as well, and I gladly accepted it. She was a part of my soul, and therefore any emotion I felt, she was able to feel. Likewise, I could also feel her emotions, even when separated.

  It was a magnificent thing—a Maite’Ona and their Fëa counterpart. It was truly a gift that should be treasured. I could not imagine what my life would be like without her, and I did not want to imagine it.

  Rydan brought his hand from my back, and then slowly tucked my hair behind my ear. He slid his thumb along my jawline, causing me to tremble. My heart kicked wildly in my chest from that gesture alone.

  I was done for.

  If that was all it took to get my blood pumping, then it was already past too late for me. I was
hopelessly in love with one of the most powerful eldas alive.

  And he didn’t even understand either part yet.

  The worst part of it was, I had no indication of what Nariella truly meant to him, or if I had any sliver of chance at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ~Nari~

  “Mycah...I’m really sorry,” I lied, gingerly reaching toward the hem of his elven shirt. I wasn’t sorry at all. I was practically floating. Still, I wanted to at least sound like I was sorry for losing my horse and having to ride on the same one as him. Yeah, I could sound sorry.

  “No, you’re not,” he contradicted quickly, seeing through my lie. Gah! Darn him for feeling my emotions. Why did I always forget these things? He moved from my reach and swiftly mounted his horse with dashing grace.

  “Fine,” I admitted, grabbing the back of the saddle and Mycah’s leg to propel myself onto the horse. Mycah scooted closer to the front so I could fit behind him. I wrapped my arms around his muscular torso and tried not to grin. I closed my eyes and inhaled his woodsy scent from his back.

  He unwrapped my arms from around him and spoke to the horse in Elvish, making us take off to follow Sarqua.

  Grrrr. I crossed my arms over my chest and sulked for as long as I could before the bouncing got worse and I needed to hold onto something. I held onto his back, which he allowed.

  “Mycah, why can’t you just...use your special abilities to kill Ohtar and take your place as king?” I whispered very, very quietly into his back. I knew he could hear and Sarqua couldn’t.

  He ignored me.

  I tried again. “Why are you serving him? Are you going to kill him?”

  “Why in bloody hell are you speaking to me so casually? Have you already forgotten? I am not your friend. I am not your anything. There is nothing between us. How many times must I tell you this?” he replied full of anger.

  “A hundred more times, apparently. Because I’m never going to believe it,” I snapped back. “How will you defeat Ohtar? What was the point of coming back?” Anger sprouted in my chest at the dire circumstances and at Mycah’s stubbornness. It seemed hopeless and never-ending.

 

‹ Prev