The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bailey Ardisone

  “No,” I solidly replied my lie.

  “Lie,” Námoman revealed. The owl on his shoulder suddenly stood straight up and cooed my way again. My heart sank. I desperately hoped that Calen and I were put to death swiftly, basking in the satisfaction that I did not betray Remycah. I could not even give a thought to Rydan right then, knowing I would never see him again. My father and mother—Oh, how I pray—

  “My father and mother,” I quickly shouted out, trying to delay the inevitable. “I tried to dream-weave with them the other night, but they were not asleep.” I could not think of anything else to say. And so it began.

  The King, still standing directly in front of me, audibly let out a sigh. “Quit with the games, Dhaeraow. Your insolent brother is DEAD—your father and mother soon to join him. I will make that happen, disastrously, if you do not stop prattling on and on. Tell me now! Have you been concocting schemes behind my back with Remycah?”

  I did not understand how, but the vile King seemed certain of my deceit. Yet I could not surrender. Building up my courage, I stood firm and confident. “No, I have not,” I defiantly lied to his face.

  He angrily shoved my back painfully into the wall, the same spot I was trying to mold against before, but still with no such luck. He abruptly let go, like I was a disgusting thing to hold, and turned to Námoman.

  I boldly looked his way as well, and suddenly the owl leapt off from Námoman’s body and came to land on mine. I remained stoically motionless as it settled on my shoulder. The room was silent and the air was thick as I awaited Námoman’s contradictory response.

  Námoman’s all-knowing pupils met mine, and then after he longingly gazed at his owl Fëa, he turned to the King.

  “Truth.”

  Chapter Nine

  ~Nari~

  “Shhh,” the handsome Wood Elf turned to me in a stealth whisper. I stifled a gasp with a hand over my mouth upon seeing his eyes. The once beautiful, glowing, pale green eyes he looked at me with only moments before were now a dimmed dark brown. How? I squeezed my eyebrows together in confusion and gazed within them in wonderment.

  He didn’t notice—or care to notice. He quickly turned to survey the area once more. We were crouched inside a giant shrub. If I didn’t know any better, I would have believed the plant purposely wrapped its leaves around us like a protective shield, hiding us perfectly from whoever the boy was afraid of. Who I knew, without a doubt, I needed to be afraid of.

  Then I heard them.

  A group of males came walking past the very spot we sat hovered in, talking and chatting it up. I peered through the cracks in the leaves, barely making out their appearance. From what I could tell, they all had the same long, dark hair and wore the same military-looking outfits—Black cloth under thick, black leather armor. They had swords hanging from their hips, sheathed in dark leather. Each one had the very emblem Mycah bore on his neck embedded into the material.

  Again, I had to stifle a gasp.

  Once the men had cleared the area, the boy visibly relaxed and stood up out of the lush shrubbery. His eyes were once again pale green. What the heck?

  “Hey umm...how come your eyes were just dark brown a second ago?” I cleared my throat and tried to be brave for asking. I didn’t want to offend him.

  He pulled his eyebrows together, like it was a weird question to ask. “It is a strategic trait. When I am trying to blend in or stay hidden, particularly when I am under cover, it just happens on instinct. How do you not know this already?”

  “I’m not from around here,” I replied.

  “What ever do you mean? I can surely sense that you are a Tavas’Elda. Do not lie to me.” His eyes flashed emerald for a second before returning pale green. His foreign accent made the words sound regal and elegant, despite their angry tone.

  “I’m not lying, I swear it! I grew up in Kennebunkport, Maine. This is the first time I’ve ever been here—wherever here is.” I waved a hand around the general area and sighed.

  “How is this possible? What...what is Ken…Kenneb...what is that place you speak of?” he huffed in frustration.

  “Kennebunkport. I know, it’s a funny sounding name right?” I laughed. He did not. “It’s a town in the state of Maine. You know, the United States of America. Earth.” I got the distinct feeling that no, he did not know. He probably had never heard of any of those things—which made me think—are we even on Earth anymore? I really had no idea how it worked.

  “You mean—you are truly not from Luïnil?” he questioned, his charming voice filled with skepticism. I answered with a question of my own.

  “So, that town we just came from is called Luïnil?” I tried the name out, but it sounded funny jumping off my tongue.

  He chuckled and shook his head.

  “No, no, no. Our Kingdom is Lassaira. Our mother realm is Luïnil. We all live in Luïnil, every race, every species. We all live here. But we usually keep to our own land. The ones whom just passed are Isil’Elda soldiers from the neighboring Kingdom of Aselaira. The very kingdom I grew up in. Our enemies.” His accented words were contradictory and confusing.

  “Wait, I don’t understand you. Why do you call Lass-whatever your kingdom if you grew up in the other one? And how are they your enemies? And why are they here?” The questions kept tumbling out of my mouth without giving the poor guy a chance to answer.

  “I don’t know why I grew up there. My family are slaves owned by the wicked King Ohtar. I didn’t discover my true heritage until I came face-to-face with a Tavas’Elda soldier in bitter battle who spared my life upon sensing our shared brotherhood. Our races have been mortal enemies long before I was born. I do not know of the reason. I am not certain anyone does. It is rare for us to interact with each other unless in battle.”

  I listened to his tale and let the words sink in. I felt like I just swallowed a tall glass of crazy juice. And then the glass kept on getting refilled.

  “And those Isil’Elda soldiers are here because—well, because we are losing the war. They have encroached upon this land. But I cannot be discovered. They will force me back into slavery. I must remain hidden, and it appears you must as well. However, I also do not know the reason for that. Who are you? And why did Lord Döron wish you concealed?” He pulled a small doughy item from his side pouch and handed it to me.

  My stomach grumbled at the thought of food. It looked yummy—like fresh, soft bread. I gratefully took it and thanked him.

  “Truth?” I asked. He nodded, of course. “The truth is, I have no idea who I am. I have even less of a clue why my grandfather wanted me hidden. I seriously don’t know anything. I didn’t even know I was one of you until a week and a half ago. I didn’t even know this place existed at all. Not until—”

  “Wait, Lord Döron is your grandfather?! How can this be?” Even though he already stood with perfect elegant posture, I swore his backbone went straighter.

  “Again—not a clue,” I replied, and bit into the soft bread, desperate to distract my thoughts from running head first into Mycah. The doughy substance was absolutely delicious. It tasted like...strawberries?

  “Not until what?” he asked.

  “Huh? Not until what, what?” I was back to being confused.

  “You said not until—?” he answered dryly, almost impatiently.

  “Oh,” I looked to the ground and shuffled my feet. “Right. I did say that. Okay, don’t get mad and freak out or anything, all right?”

  “Why would I get mad? And...what is freak out?” He pinched his forehead together as he said the words, and I couldn’t help laughing out loud. He shot a look of confusion my way, so I quickly worked to get my serious face on.

  “Umm...you know, uh—” Okay, I’ve never had to describe what “freaking out” meant before, so I was suddenly coming up short for a proper description. How did you explain teenage slang to an elf? “Oh! Okay, I just mean don’t start going all crazy and yelling at me, stuff like that. Get it?”

  “Do people do tha
t...in Kenneb—Do people yell at you often where you came from?” he questioned innocently, making me smile.

  “Just never mind, okay? I just don’t want you to be angry with me.” I didn’t see that conversation making any strides toward camaraderie.

  “All right...” He still didn’t understand. But I had a feeling he would in a moment.

  “What I was saying was...not until Mycah told me what I was and where I was from.” I cringed back closing my eyes tight and waited for the freak-out.

  “You’ve met the true King Remycah?!” he practically bellowed and took a step closer, making me jump from his reaction.

  “Wait, so you’re not mad at me?” My grandfather’s reaction was completely opposite of this, I figured all Wood Elves would be appalled by our interactions.

  “His existence is a myth among the Isil’Elda. No one believes him to be alive, or have ever been born at all. Some say it is only rumor that he once lived here as a child. Few have admitted to actually lying eyes upon him, and those who do are never to be seen again. Even uttering his name is feared by all.” He spoke with such somberness; I felt my heart break a little at the dire circumstances.

  “What are they afraid of?” I almost didn’t want to ask.

  “King Ohtar’s wrath. His torture. It is said he will do whatever it takes to wipe the memory of Remycah and his brother Rydan out of all history and legends. Whatever it takes.” He emphasized his point by widening his eyes.

  “Is he...evil?” My voice came out low and timid. I was frightened for Mycah and Rydan. If innocent people weren’t safe just by speaking of them, then what’s going to happen to them now that they were here, so incredibly close to danger? I felt my stomach turn and forced myself to keep down the lovely bread I just consumed.

  “Yes,” was his only response.

  But in that one little word, I felt the full extent of gravity the meaning held all the way down to the tips of my toes.

  As if right on cue, confirming everything the boy just informed me of, a speeding arrow sliced through the pure air and nailed into a tree, right smack in between us.

  “Run!” he shouted. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along as we went flying through the trees. My blood immediately shot through my system like it just entered a race of its own, and I could feel the sheer panic bubbling forth in my chest.

  I didn’t know what was worse. Were we being chased by the king my grandfather said was sure to kill me if I was found, or the other king Mycah warned me of prior to leaving if I was found out to be a Healer? I didn’t know. Both kings sounded evil to me, and so I pushed myself to run as fast as I could possibly manage.

  I could hear movement from behind us. We were definitely being chased. An angry, deep sounding horn erupted through the silent forest, causing me to cover my ears with my hands. That reaction made me let go of my guide. It was so loud and scary sounding, I almost whimpered from the pain.

  I didn’t know what was going on; all I knew was I needed to run. I kept my eyes on the boy’s back and prayed I could keep up with him. He was fast, extremely fast, and I fought with all my might to stay near, but I was quickly losing the battle. He was gaining distance, and I felt myself falling behind. If I got lost, I was sure to have a heart attack.

  My lungs and every muscle in my body burned and ached from the exertion. Where were we going? I didn’t know.

  Then I saw them. From the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shape to my right running after us and quickly gaining the same speed as we were running in. I screamed at the menacing stare he gave me. I turned to my left and found another Night Elf soldier gaining on us. Oh my god—this was it. We weren’t going to make it.

  I suddenly felt the sickening sensation of something evil dangerously close behind me and right on my heels. I chanced a look back and regretted it immediately—my eyes widened in fear, and I again could not stop the scream that escaped my lips. A wicked Night Elf was right there, readying to reach out and grab me, to take me down with him.

  The Wood Elf boy suddenly began chanting unknown words in that strange language under his breath. Despite him being far ahead of me, the words were carried in the wind. I could feel myself tiring. My legs felt on fire, and at any moment I knew they would give out. I could not take this much longer. I would not be able to keep it up. But I told myself—just a little bit more, just a little bit more—and pushed with every ounce I had in me. I felt myself gain a little more speed and thanked the heavens above.

  And just as quickly as the sun casts away darkness, a blinding white light flashed around us. I heard tortured screams cry out from every angle and fall away in the distance.

  “Come! This way!” the boy’s familiar voice commanded ahead of me, and I did not hesitate to obey. He ran through a thicket of greenery off the path, and I stumbled through after him. We came upon a pouring waterfall, fierce and powerful, roaring with venomous fury.

  He kept running down the narrowed-stone cliff that led behind the cascading water, but I drastically slowed my pace. When I said narrow, I meant the ledge only had enough room for one foot at a time without plummeting head first down to the churning water more than a hundred feet below.

  How the heck did he just do that? He didn’t even flinch at the tiny space. He had impeccable balance, obviously. But I could not do what he just did. I clung to the rocky wall and kept my eyes down on each movement my feet made. One foot after the other. One foot after the other. I could do this.

  “Nariella! What is it you are doing? Come on!” the boy hollered impatiently at me. Ugh. I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at him. I probably would have if I weren’t so afraid of tearing my eyes away from my feet. Did he not get that I had never done this before? I was in no way athletic. I practically failed gym.

  “Remember, you are an elda. You will not fall!” His voice rang out and mixed itself in with the crashing water.

  “I’m a what? I thought I was a...a...Tavas’Elda or whatever,” I called back just before making it behind the waterfall.

  I wiped the water droplets from my face and ran my fingers through my long hair. I was soaked from the spraying falls. Lovely. Where’s Mycah’s handy drying trick when you needed it?

  “Nariella. You are a Tavas’Elda. You’re an elda in general. An elf. How is it you do not know these things?” He laughed at my expense.

  “Ugh. I told you! I was only recently informed about all this. I don’t know any words from your language. I am surprised I even remembered Tavas’Elda.” I pulled my wet shirt that stuck to my skin away from my body and wrung out the bottom.

  “You do realize that if you hadn’t resembled a snail a moment ago you wouldn’t be so drenched.” He continued to chuckle, his pale green eyes flashing in amusement. Great. Just what I needed. That was when I noticed he was completely dry, hardly a drop of water on him. I forced myself not to growl out loud.

  “I think we should sleep here tonight. These falls are protected. No one unwelcome can pass through,” he explained as he lowered himself to the ground. I stayed silent, lost in my own thoughts, and mimicked his actions.

  I was extremely tired. That last bout of adrenaline and severe exertion completely zapped every ounce of energy from my body. I moved to lie down entirely on the stone floor, not even caring how hard it was. Nothing could keep me from sleep right now.

  And sleep was exactly what I found.

  Calm. Peace. Utter relaxation.

  I was in heaven. I was sure of it this time. One of the evil Night Elves found me and killed us. I was certain I had to be in heaven at this very moment.

  I didn’t want to open my eyes. I knew that if I did, the moment would be spoiled. I stayed cradled on my side and reveled in the serene oasis I found myself basking in. I pulled myself into a tighter ball and smiled.

  “What the bloody hell are you doing, love?” a familiar British accent asked in a low voice while lightly chuckling. I stopped breathing and stilled in response. I clenched my eyes closed even tighter. Please
don’t be a dream. Please don’t be a dream. Please don’t be a dream.

  Gentle fingers began sifting through my long hair and then carefully tucked some away behind my ear.

  “Are we dead?” I asked in a small voice, still refusing to open my eyes.

  “No. We’re not dead. But you can hear me this time?” Mycah asked as he softly put his fingers to my chin and forced my head to move in his direction. I decided to give in and open my eyes.

  I sucked in oxygen while my heart leapt in response to his expression. He looked—ravishing. How was it possible each and every time I saw him I was taken aback by how sexy he was? If this wasn’t heaven, then I must be dreaming, and dang was it an amazing one.

  “Are you sure...we’re not dead?” I asked again. My pulse quickened at his touch and the way he ran his thumb over my bottom lip, licking his own perfect, kissable mouth.

  “Do you want to be dead?” He smirked in his familiar sexy way and gazed up at me through his eyelashes. I got lost in the way his messy midnight hair glistened blue in the sun as the wind played with it.

  Dang it.

  Why did I let him do this to me, even in a dream?!

  I shook my head to break free from the trance he always seemed to put me under. But I knew he couldn’t help it. I was just a crazy person, that’s all.

  “This feels weird. This feels...real. Like last time I dreamt of you, only a thousand times more clear. I don’t ever want to wake up.” I slowly sat up and ran my fingers over the bit of skin I found extremely enticing peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

  He closed his eyes at my touch before reaching up and claiming my hand with his own. He brought my fingers up to his lips and sweetly kissed them.

  “I know, love,” he finally said. “And you’re right. This does feel different. Perhaps I’m getting the hang of this after all.” He bit his lip and winked at me. My mouth dropped in response at how sexy it was. I fought the urge to rip my hands through his shirt, pull those gosh darn lips to mine, and violently kiss the heck out of him.