The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bailey Ardisone

  To my horror, Calen screamed a call of warning from above. I had no idea what was coming, but it was not good.

  “Rydan, quickly, we must hide!” I ordered, pulling Rydan by his wrist.

  I instructed Calen through my mind and emotions to leave immediately and find a hiding place. I could not bear for anything to happen to her. I needed her safe.

  Rydan and I fled through a thicket of thorns and briar. The brambles scraped across our skin, leaving trail marks of blood in their wake along our arms and faces.

  We did not stop. For we could not stop—I feared something worse than even Ohtar’s hunters were after us now.

  I saw through Calen’s eyes that I was indeed correct.

  “Oh dear Stars, Rydan. Quickly, this way,” I instructed quietly. We ran full force with all of our strength through a casing of vines and wild shrubbery. It was the only cover we had, but I feared it was not enough. And it slowed us down the deeper we went. Our clothing would snag and jerk us backward.

  “Is it Ohtar?” Rydan inquired breathlessly.

  “No, Rydan. It is not. I am afraid it might be worse than that,” I managed to reply.

  “What could be worse?” he asked skeptically. Little did he know that Ohtar was not actually the most frightening entity in Luïnil. This realm was filled with atrocious monsters. Ohtar was only the tip of the iceberg if you wanted to compare ugliness and savageness.

  Rydan tugged on my hand when I did not answer. “What is it, Naminé?”

  “Goblins.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ~Nari~

  It was a harsh realm. Waking up in night terrors all my life had been nothing compared to the realities of this world. At least when I had nightmares, I would wake up and it would all be gone. There was an escape from the horrors.

  But here, there was no escaping. The nightmares were now my reality. The sensation of hot, sticky blood on my hands wouldn’t let up. It didn’t matter how many times I wiped them clean. How much water I wasted washing the red stains away—All I could feel was the pulse of life slipping away from me.

  The weight of the world crushed down on me. It sat on my shoulders, and the mere thought of the responsibility that was thrust upon me almost had me buckling at the knees.

  Death saturated the land. But it was left up to me, and Mycah, to pull them out of death’s clutches. From the steps of their graves, only we could set them free.

  Yet, I didn’t always succeed. The Isil’Elda with the hemorrhaging chest didn’t make it. I wasn’t fast enough. I watched, and felt, him slip away. His pulse slowed to a stop beneath my trembling fingertips.

  So when I woke in the middle of the darkest night, his desperate eyes locked onto mine as they dimmed, were what was left haunting me.

  Mycah covered my mouth with his hand to stifle my scream. I didn’t need to look to know it was him. I would know the touch of his skin anywhere. If I were blind, I would still know it was him. I slowly looked up into his intense gaze. His blue eyes swirled like the start of a sea-storm. When he removed his hand, I immediately missed his touch.

  “Thanks. Is Sarqua mad at me?” I asked the question, but I didn’t care to move my eyes from Mycah’s to look for him myself. I was locked into Mycah’s stare—and totally loving it. I took the stolen moment to help calm my racing heart. But it didn’t work. It only made my heart race even more.

  “You didn’t have the chance to make a sound. I got to you before you could. I felt it coming,” he whispered softly. Mycah had been charged with keeping watch through the night.

  In this territory, I had been told that we had to sleep at night because Wood Elves, or Tavas’Elda, patrol during the day. If any Isil’Elda soldiers slept during the day while in this territory like they normally did, then the “enemy” had the advantage over them.

  “Oh. Well, thanks. Again.” I collapsed back to the ground; exhausted from the toll healing took on my body. I shivered beneath the dark green wool blanket. It wasn’t cold. In fact, the temperature was perfect. It was just the eyes of those dying elves flashing into mind for the hundredth time. The experience was damaging to my soul. I didn’t think I could ever heal from it.

  I tried to distract myself with thoughts of something else. Despite being tired, I didn’t want to fall back asleep, either. I didn’t want to go through those morbid moments again.

  I began thinking of the past—back to when Mycah first entered into my life. The way I had felt danger emanating from him in the beginning. The way he had rescued me so many times, and how that dangerous feeling in my gut had slowly dissipated.

  “Hey, Mycah?” I whispered. A question I had always wanted to ask him suddenly popped into forefront. I knew he was awake and could hear me.

  “Hm?” he softly responded. I could sense he sat against the trunk of a tree. I turned on my side to face him. He was carving something out of a dark chunk of wood. He didn’t look at me.

  “Remember that day you saved me from Ray? When he was chok—”

  “I remember,” he interrupted me. He didn’t look away from his carving.

  “Right. Why were you there? Were you stalking me or something?” I lightly laughed, knowing it sounded ridiculous. But part of me always wondered.

  His eyes shot to mine, but he didn’t let any emotion show.

  “No, I was not stalking you. I hadn’t even known you lived there,” he replied coolly. He resumed carving the piece of wood.

  “Why were you there then?”

  “I was in the woods behind your house when I heard the yelling. I was looking for the way home. I was directed by Naminé that the Lassaira Ëlemmiire was somewhere in Kennebunkport. That is why I was there. That is the only reason I stayed in that town at all. I couldn’t find it, though I knew it was near. I spent days and nights looking for the bloody thing.”

  His words stung my heart. The only reason?

  “Okay...but you were always there. You just happened to show up every place I was at? I don’t believe it.” I tried reminding him of those days—I hoped to refresh those lost feelings he once had for me.

  “I was only near you to figure out if you knew what you were. You had such strange mixed feelings emanating from you. Your dragon painting is what puzzled me the most. It was a surprise to discover you had no knowledge of your home at all,” he explained defensively.

  I rolled my eyes in response. Whatever.

  “I wish I knew why Ray was so mad that day. He kept yelling that I stole his money, but I had no idea what he was talking about.” I began to reminisce, still looking for a distraction.

  “He was too drunk to remember that he had spent that money at the pub already. The money he had been referring to was meant to pay off the bookie he owed. The day he attacked you was the day he was supposed to pay back Oliver. When he couldn’t find the money, because he stupidly drank it away, he mistakenly blamed you.” Mycah spoke low and nonchalantly as he continued to carve a sculpture.

  “How do you know that?” I whispered breathlessly, shocked.

  “I had to read his mind so I could erase his memories that day I rescued you both from the Black Eagles’ lair.” He was completely oblivious to the revelation I was experiencing. Or he chose to ignore it.

  But it all made sense now. That was why that big, hulking ogre was in my house looking for Ray that night of the carnival. Ray never got the chance to pay off his debt before the Black Eagles took us. And then Mycah kept him away so that I could recuperate in peace.

  I remembered how Mycah had paid off Ray’s debt. He had said that he had done it for me. The memory of him drawing closer to me, enticing me in front of his room at the B&B, sent shivers down my spine. The feel of his lips on mine, and the way his fingers were tangled in my hair, ignited a fire within my stomach just from the thought.

  I felt his eyes move to my throat as the memory of him kissing me there flashed into my mind.

  He abruptly stood up and walked into the woods, dropping his carving onto the soft g
round below. I watched him smoothly slip his dagger into its sheath on his belt and retreat into darkness.

  I rolled on my back and squeezed my eyes closed tight. It was extremely frustrating. I couldn’t understand why he was being this way. Something bad had happened when he had been captured—that could be the only explanation.

  With no surprise, I hardly slept a wink the rest of the night. I couldn’t shut my mind off. Too many thoughts of what had happened, what was to come, and how Rydan was doing whirled around my brain. The only good thing to come of it was it meant no nightmares.

  Even though, you could call my waking hours a living nightmare, so technically there was no “good thing.” But whatever, I refused to dwell on that.

  Sarqua yanked me up from the ground by my bicep and pushed me forward. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything that would get me in trouble.

  “Move out, Fallaner,” he ordered from behind.

  I bit down on my cheek again.

  I looked around for Mycah, because I hadn’t seen or felt him all night.

  “I’m here,” he answered my curiosity softly. He must've felt me wondering about him. “This way, Sarqua. I have found another injured convoy waiting to live or die.”

  We followed Mycah silently and solemnly. There was not much noise made by our footsteps. I recalled what Cathar had said before about our species at the waterfall—“Light-footedness.” It was incredibly intriguing.

  As we walked, I looked around to see if I recognized anything. But no, I had no idea where we were, or how far away we were from the Tavas’Elda castle. I wished more than anything in this moment that I could be back in my grandfather’s presence, to hear his tales of old, and to hear about my mother and father. The question of are they alive? burned in my marrow and in the depths of my soul. Questions like that were enough to drive a person mad! Why had they abandoned me all those years ago? Why did they bring me to the Earthly realm?

  What were they hiding me from?

  So many questions sprouted like weeds throughout my mind, one popping up after another. I was afraid I would never get the answers. I might never find out the truth.

  Would I ever be able to escape from Ohtar? Would I ever see my grandfather again?

  My stomach churned at the unknown. I took a deep breath and wished away my despair. Stepping over a tiny babbling stream, I decided I wouldn’t let those thoughts bring me down. I needed to be strong. I needed to get through this. I would make my sweet escape.

  It had only taken an hour to reach the injured convoy. They lay hiding in a secluded cave within a giant, misty mountain. We were in Tavas’Elda territory, so I guessed that when the mountain rumbled once Sarqua and Mycah entered the cave’s mouth, it meant it was not happy about it.

  The stench of guts and blood made me cover my nose. The moaning and heavy panting struck the strings of my heart, so I immediately ran to the closest fallen soldier. Every few minutes, the mountain would rumble in protest of the Isil’Elda presence. I could feel the land’s distaste for them.

  Once I healed the first solider, who had a broken nose and leg, I felt a sting of betrayal in my blood. It was my betrayal. Tears sprung in my eyes once I realized what it was.

  My home—my land—with each enemy soldier that I healed, I betrayed my kin. My blood. I could literally feel the sadness in the air—The disappointment. I was a traitor.

  I stumbled backward out of the cave and dropped to my knees. I had never thought about it that way. A life was a life, and I couldn’t possibly let a person die. It didn’t matter which land they came from. Which world they came from.

  But—that feeling. That disloyalty—it pained me to my core. I felt ripped at the seams from my heritage.

  I wept. I mourned the loss of my homeland’s approval. I hadn’t experienced it for long, but once I knew what that connection felt like, I was at a loss for composure without it.

  Sarqua stormed out of the cave. Only seconds had gone by since I left, allowing me no time to get over what had just happened.

  He pulled me up by my hair and dragged me behind him. I clawed at his hands and screeched in protest against the pain. He threw me into the cave, barking mad.

  “Do that again, and I’ll be sure to tear off every one of your fingers. No healer would be able to make repairs on your body once I was done with you.”

  I winced at his words and rubbed my scalp. The stab of betrayal still racked my nerves as I crawled my way to a dying elf. I was torn. I wanted to save their lives—I couldn’t bear letting these creatures succumb to their pending doom. But there was a part of me, a big part, which wondered about all the Tavas’Elda that died at their hands. That would die at their hands in the future. Essentially, I could be killing my own people by allowing these soldiers to live.

  The tears rolled down my cheeks with each one I healed. But what choice did I have?

  By the time I took care of the last one, who had been hanging onto his life by a thread, I hated myself. Did these elves deserve to live? It really wasn’t my decision, though, right? Who was I to decide who lived and who died?

  My eyes slid to Mycah. I watched him help a soldier with some water and food. I silently begged for him to give me a sign—To tell me if we were going to make it—To tell me if I was doing the right thing. I stood fidgeting in place, boring holes into his temples. He glanced my way for the quickest of seconds—I almost missed it. He tried to ignore me, but he could feel me needing him desperately.

  My eyes did not fail to notice the flex in his jaw as he clenched it tight. His sexy, way too sexy to be human, jaw. The urge to run over and kiss it, to throw my arms around his neck and bury my fingers in his hair, became so overwhelming and powerful, that I actually took a step toward him. All I wanted was his love. I needed his embrace. I needed his comfort.

  As soon as my right foot hit the new space, his eyes jerked to mine. The look he gave me then halted me in my place. He gave me a warning. His eyes screamed, “Don’t you dare!” I could practically hear his voice saying the words in my head.

  Even though I could see the anger and frustration in his face, he still looked incredibly gorgeous. It was an expression that I wasn’t used to seeing from him. He was hot when he was angry. His black hair looked darker in the cave as it sat in disarray. It contrasted with his bright blue eyes that the shadows failed to mask.

  My heart would not stop doing somersaults as his desperate eyes stayed locked with mine, ordering me to stay away. It only made me want to run to him more.

  Sarqua walked up to Mycah, breaking the trance I was under. “We have done what we came to do. There are no other convoys in need of a Healer. Let us make haste to neutral borders,” Sarqua instructed quietly.

  I followed everyone out of the cave like a robot. I was completely numb. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep this up. I was grateful I didn’t have to do any more healing, but the longer I was kept at arm’s length from Mycah, the more it ate away at my sanity—The more my heart crumbled at his feet.

  I saw Sarqua speaking to the soldiers, but I couldn’t hear what he said. We then left in opposite directions. It was back to just the three of us.

  As we walked to who knows where, I pulled on Mycah’s shirt for his attention.

  “Mycah,” I whispered. “I need to ask you something.”

  He stopped walking and ran a hand through his hair. He turned in my direction and asked, “What is it now?”

  I slowly walked up to him, holding his piercing eyes with mine, and noticed him take a long inhale of breath. I reached up on my tippy-toes and slid my hand along his taut chest. Moving my hand to the back of his neck, I gently pulled his head down closer. I brought my lips to his ear and felt him tremble beneath my touch.

  “Where is your tattoo?” I whispered so softly, I barely heard myself. He clenched his jaw and wrapped his hands around my wrists, pushing me back a step.

  “I am not king, so why would I have it?” he asked rhetorically, and
sauntered back to his post behind Sarqua.

  We eventually made it to a small village. Mycah slowed his pace to whisper in my direction.

  “The Village of Burrbein, west land of the Nianotts species. They refuse to take sides in the war, standing firmly as neutral,” he explained secretively.

  It was a clustered village surrounded by trees. There was no castle or gate. Just a town filled with happy people. You could hear their bustling and laughter as we approached. It was similar to the town I had been to before with Cathar. I didn’t know the name of the species, but I was sure once I saw the people I’d be able to tell if they were the same.

  As we entered the town, a few of them in the streets stopped short. Their laughs were cut off abruptly, and their eyes avoided our direction. They were much shorter and clumsier than elves. Yep. They were the same species from the other village Cathar and I had been in. So that was what they were called—Nianotts. And just like this, they were rustic and earthy. You could tell they spent much time in dirt, perfecting their gardens and whatnot. They laughed loudly and joked a lot when they didn’t notice us passing, which I found myself smiling at.

  It was a little uncomfortable walking in their tiny dirt streets. Before, when I had been with Cathar, the people had been joyous and friendly, completely at ease around us. It was obvious that although they chose to stay neutral in the war, they still favored the Tavas’Elda over the Isil’Elda.

  I followed Mycah and Sarqua into a pub called the Tipsy Nott. The Nianotts stayed respectful and polite, but there was room to be friendlier. Sarqua sat on a stump at the bar, Mycah following suit.

  “Lisse, dïikē,” Sarqua ordered. I had no idea what he just said.

  “Make that three, dïikē,” Mycah chimed in.

  “What did Sarqua say?” I asked quietly.

  “Lisse is an elven wine. It is sweet. You’ll like it. Dïikē means “please” in Nianan,” he explained in return.

  The elven wine was set in front of me. I stared at the small glass goblet. The iron stem shaped like vines ran up the glass and circled the rim. It was delicate yet sturdy looking. And extremely pretty. The purplish-blood-red liquid glimmered in the dim light of the room.