The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

Home > Fantasy > The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4 > Page 82
The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 82

by Bailey Ardisone


  He had to think of me as a gigantic disappointment. I was a horrible elda first of all, one who didn’t know a single thing about her people or culture. Secondly, I was a colossal mess when it came to actually acting like an elda and using my gifts. Let’s not mention the whole murdering his people thing and jump straight to falling in love with his Óre’Dae, which apparently could lead to a humongous disaster for his kingdom. Yeah, I wouldn’t be winning any Daughter Of The Year awards any time soon. Just fantastic.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered sincerely. During that entire time of dreaming, the many years of wishing and fantasizing of parents, not once could I have ever imagined how much it would hurt disappointing one of them. It was an odd, unfamiliar feeling. Something I loathed the instant it struck and never wanted to experience again.

  Knowing me̶—yeah, right. I was a walking, ticking, time-bomb that could detonate at any given moment. I hadn’t known my father for longer than a week and already I accomplished one of the worst things capable between parents and their offspring—failure. I resisted the urge to sarcastically pat myself on the back.

  “Remorsefulness does not help, my child, unless you intend to undo what has begun. Nariella, if you truly love him like you suggest, then you must free yourself from him. Kingdoms depend on it. Not only Aselaira, but others you are unaware of. Your own life is dependent on this one task. Will you do it? If not for yours or my sake, then for Remycah’s?” Ender took my wrist and stared at me point-blank, willing for me to say yes through the intensity of his stare.

  “Will I undo it? How? I don’t think I can, but even more than that, want to! How can you ask me to do this?” Rip apart the seams we had interweaving our souls…forever? I couldn’t…I couldn’t fathom it or even tolerate the thought. I tried to tug my hand away in fear, but he held on firmer.

  “You must! You do not understand what may happen if you do not! Had I been given the chance I would have made every effort to put an end to it whilst in that cave. Yet Ohtar’s hunters were more of a concern and I could not. Then with Remycah left behind I had not thought it would advance as it has. My dear, it is vital that you heed my warning or there may not be a Remycah left for you to love. You both shall be killed.” He finally let go of me, but the expression on his face left a gaping hole in my heart. He was terrified.

  “I…I…” Words completely escaped me. I could only gaze back at him with wide, terrified eyes of my own.

  “You cannot let this continue. You cannot allow the bond to forge stronger. Nariella, think of the people. Think of Remycah.”

  “Honestly, Ender, what I need to think about right now is…well, something else. You’re asking me to do something that I don’t even know is possible. And even if it was, I don’t know if my heart could take it. And I need my heart to be strong enough to endure whatever is happening to me since I revived my best friend from death.” I couldn’t even swallow; the concept of breaking it off with Mycah left my stomach completely sour.

  “Keep your distance from him. Do not be intimate the way you have been. You are much too close. Perhaps lessening contact shall slow the intertwining until you are capable of carrying out more.” He started to pace slowly with his arms crossed behind his back, a look of frustration troubling his face.

  “Yeah, I’ll try,” I replied a bit sarcastically. I tried to cover it up by nodding my head seriously, but come on—Keep my distance from Mycah? Oh, dear god. Lessen contact with him? It hurt to even think about it.

  This would be hell.

  Ender seemed to ignore everything else I had said. His mind was clearly stuck on the Mycah issue. In an angry whirlwind, he faced me dead-on and shouted, “Nariella, it is forbidden! Do you understand what I am telling you?”

  As I continued to silently stare at him, I struggled to get a grip from the blow he hit me with. It was frightening experiencing this level of outrage from someone I hadn’t known for very long, especially since he was my father. It was the worst feeling displeasing him.

  He turned away enraged, as if to leave me here at the gazebo alone. Quickly, I stood up and grabbed his elbow, preventing him from storming off before I could try to make it better somehow. I couldn’t leave him angry. It killed me to have him so upset like this, all because of something I did. My heart couldn’t ache any more than it was.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I really am sorry for ruining your plans by getting close with Mycah. You have to believe me, I had no idea he was your king or that he was the savior of your dying kingdom. I didn’t even know he was partly my enemy! And how does that work exactly? I mean, I am an Isil’Elda too, right? So are we all really enemies? Because that just kinda sucks if you ask me,” I rambled on a bit, my cheeks slightly burning from the fever, but more from having this talk. It was devastating. I couldn’t wrap my head around being any of their enemies if I had Isil blood in me too. It didn’t make sense.

  Ender hesitated. I could literally see the internal battle he was having on whether to walk away angry or to stay and answer my question. He took deep breaths like he was trying to calm himself down before speaking.

  “Yes, technically we are. It is best you consider yourself Tavas since it is most dominant in you, and allow others to believe it as well. None can know of your half-blood, Nariella. Not anyone.”

  “I know that already.” I sighed…because when was it ever simple?

  “Do you? You would not be thought of as foe or friend. You would be considered an abomination to our kind. Not to me, mind you. Yet, our people—both the Isil’Elda and the Tavas’Elda—would not agree with your existence. I am terribly afraid if you are discovered to be half-Isil, half-Tavas, that they’d do something horrifying to you.” And there was that hideous word again. I shuddered. Add “abomination” to my growing list of things sure to haunt me.

  “Ender, I know.” I squeezed the hand he held behind his back and emphasized the point to show I was serious. “But pretending to be full-Tavas won’t work. The Wood Elves already know I’m both and tried to execute me over it. King Aglar knows I’m alive. He sent an army searching for me and they found me. Mycah and Rydan saved me before they succeeded.”

  “King Aglar knows you’re alive? Ed' i'ear ar' elenea.” He sat down and held a hand over his mouth, muttering something in Elvish.

  “So, like, either way I’m extra screwed now, right? If I stay with Mycah, I’ll be executed. If they catch me over being both races, I’m executed. Is there anything elves don’t kill people over?” I matched his position, bristled and put out by this stupidity. My head sloshed with heaviness, but I did everything I could to ignore it and remain upright.

  “This is more serious. There has not been a mix of our two races in centuries. It is forbidden, yes, but King Aglar wants you dead for far more personal reasons. As you are already aware, you are a reminder of his mate’s infidelity and treason. Now with your being half-blood out in the open, he will have the people look upon you in disgust and use this to his advantage,” Ender said. “I’m afraid it goes even beyond the weight of the world against you, my dear.”

  “Jeez, easy on the sugarcoating. You wouldn’t want me feeling good about myself or anything.” I brushed off the invisible wrinkles in my jeans.

  “I am not certain I understand.”

  “Never mind. I was kidding. It’s just—really disheartening. It’s all really hard to take in.” And the hits just kept on coming. “I don’t want to go back to Luïnil.”

  “Do not let it deter you from returning to your true home, my child. You are exactly that. You are a daughter of both Aselaira and Lassaira.” His eyes ignited in a glowing, orange blaze as he turned them to me. “Though do not let that fool you! Take care, Nariella. Despite that fact, you are most certainly forbidden from Remycah, and always shall be!”

  I flinched at the hardness of his voice and quickly pushed the thought about Mycah aside. “But where would I live? If I go back, I’d only end up dead. No one wants me there. No one on eithe
r side. If I go to Aselaira, I’m dead. If I go to Lassaira, I’m dead. So, tell me, where is this true home you speak of? Which one is my true home?”

  Ender opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it. See? Not even the elf who seemed to always have answers for everything knew how to respond to that question. I was an outcast.

  I answered the question for him, “It’s here. My true home is Earth. This is the only place I belong now. And you know it’s true, otherwise I wouldn’t be forbidden from Mycah.”

  No, I didn’t used to feel that way, but my eyes had been opened to the truth. Standing up, I decided I was done discussing the inevitable. They’d all go back to their home and I’d be left here alone. No more Rydan. No more Mycah. I didn’t belong with either of them. We weren’t meant for each other, and there was nothing I could do to change it. My own father was too furious to be near me.

  My pulse blazed at super-speed as the grief set in. My legs buckled, and I reached out for the railing of the gazebo to keep from falling to the ground. My head swam as the heartbreak grew heavier. Sweat accumulated over every surface of my skin, but it was the intense fuzziness in my ears that set me on alarm. I couldn’t tell what was happening to me, and before I could figure it out, I was thrust into darkness.

  “Murderer!” Mycah shouted angrily in my face, pointing his finger at my chest.

  “No! It wasn’t like that!” I shouted back, clutching my heart that was breaking from his words. From his intolerance.

  “No? Then what do you call slaughtering dozens of my people?” he roared, his British accent covering each consonant like an icepick. He paced back and forth with hatred fuming out of his entire being. Hatred for me.

  “I...I...” I searched desperately for words to explain my actions, but I came up short. My eyes were dry from shock, and sweat dripped down my hairline. Both fire and ice circled around us, devouring each other up. The forest burned with licking flames, but the ground was black with dark ice that caused my feet to slip. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, you’re bloody sorry, are you? Sorry means nothing. Sorry can never take back the lives you stole so carelessly,” Mycah bit out with venom, slicing away at my sanity.

  “That’s not true! I didn’t want to kill them!” I cried out, defending myself.

  “Lies!” he yelled, pointing at me yet again. “You enjoyed slashing your sword through their chests. You reveled in each thrust you made into their hearts. You cannot lie to me, Tavas. I can feel all your emotions. I can read your thoughts. You loved killing my people.”

  “Stop! Just stop it!” I covered my ears, not able to handle hearing anymore.

  Suddenly, a body covered in blood appeared right next to me. I screamed as I turned to run away, but I ran straight into another blood-soaked body. My throat was too seized with terror to make a sound. I pushed its chest with all my might to get out of my way, only to then trip over another. Convulsing from fear, I staggered to my feet. Something grabbed my ankle, causing me to shriek. It was the same person I had tripped over. That was when I noticed it was the Isil’Elda soldiers I had killed. Their eyes all stared into mine as they drew closer all around me. Dozens of them all dragged nearer in slow-motion, but with lightning-speed at the same time. It was like a drug-trip I’d never asked for.

  “Stay away from me!” I tried to yell, but the sound got stuck in my throat.

  “Why did you do it? Why did you kill us?” a voice whispered in echoes around me.

  “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” I cried, full of remorse.

  “Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.” The same word repeated like a hum growing louder and louder. It was Mycah’s voice. “Abomination. Half-breed. Murderer.”

  Each face flashed right in front of my eyes, making me fall to the ground. I huddled into the fetal position, but I couldn’t escape the faces flashing like a strobe light, despite my eyes being shut tightly.

  I screamed as loud as I could, begging it to stop while asking for forgiveness.

  “Nariella!”

  “I’m sorry! Please stop! I’m sorry!” I cried and cried.

  A slap across my face jolted me into an upright position. Rydan stared into my eyes with a look of pure terror on his face. Probably similar to how mine must look.

  “What the hell?” he breathed, instantly pulling me against his muscular chest. I melted into him, wiping my wet face on his shirt. He wouldn’t care.

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t shake the images and feelings I had just experienced. Rydan soothed me by slowly rubbing my back as I pulled myself together. Eventually, I began to realize where I was and that it had only been a nightmare. For some reason, I was in the guest room at the O’Malleys’ house. How’d I get here? Wasn’t I outside with Ender?

  “What are you doing in my room? What am I doing in my room?” I asked in a whisper. I was just at the gazebo.

  “It’s in the middle of the night. You’ve been sleeping for twelve hours. You were screaming and wouldn’t wake up,” Rydan explained.

  “I can’t. I can’t go back to sleep.” I started to panic, not wanting to relive that ever again.

  Rydan lifted me out of the bed like I was lighter than a feathered pillow.

  “She’s sleeping with me,” he announced to the room, though I didn’t even look around. I kept my face buried into his neck. He carried me out into the hall. The old wood floors creaked below his feet. Like so many countless times before, I inhaled his smoky scent that I was so accustomed to using as my balm.

  I involuntarily shuddered from leftover fear and emotions. That was the worst nightmare I had ever had. It topped all the ones with Ray on my eighth birthday from Hell, the ones I had of the Black Eagles, and any I had of monsters and whatnot. Absolutely, what I had tonight would probably forever be my worst.

  Rydan laid me down in his bed, then climbed in next to me, pulling the blankets over us both. Laying my head in the crook of his shoulder and neck, he enveloped me in his arms. I trembled even still. Gently, he ran his fingers up and down my back. I drew my attention to his touch and tried desperately not to recall the images that worked to force their way back in my mind.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered into his skin.

  “Was it Ray?” he whispered back into the top of my head. He knew about my nightmares I used to have.

  “No.” I slightly shook my head. “But for the first time ever, I wish it had been.”

  “Please tell me,” he requested, wanting me to open up and finally let him in. I used to tell him everything, but this just seemed too hard to voice. To actually say the words out loud made me shudder yet again. Rydan was always like this. He always urged me to be open with him, but he rarely bestowed the same privilege to me in return. It wasn’t often he’d share his secrets with me. Then again, I never forced him to. I was always afraid to push him away.

  “It’s too horrible. You’d be disgusted with me if I told you.” I cringed; the words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  “You know that’s not true,” he disagreed, like I knew he would. He didn’t understand. He had no idea what kind of things I had done in Luïnil. The things I had done to his kin.

  One of the doors out in the hall closed with a loud bang, making me jump right in Rydan’s arms from the unexpected intrusion.

  “C’mon, just tell me. You know you’ll feel better,” Rydan urged again. My heart squeezed tightly, hating the thought of telling him. But I knew he was right. I needed to tell my best friend. It was probably the only way for me to cope. I might not ever be able to forgive myself, but I needed to learn to live with my actions before I had a mental breakdown like Mycah predicted I would.

  “I killed a lot of people in Luïnil,” I blurted out, and the words instantly sizzled on my tongue like an ice-cold drop of water falling onto a scalding-hot skillet. I bit my tongue uncontrollably to stop the emotional pain the words caused. But it didn’t work. Rydan stayed silent.

  “Ry? Say something,” I begged. The silent room was de
afening. I swore my ears would bleed if he didn’t say something soon.

  “Who?” he asked quietly.

  “Isil’Elda soldiers. I was ruthless and unforgiving. I was a horrible person,” I explained, regret squeezing my stomach into pulp.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “The Tavas blood in me would erupt any time the Isil soldiers started battling. With each Wood Elf they killed, it fueled my hatred for them. But it wasn’t real. It was the magical blood inside of me. It forced me to do it. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I don’t want to think of myself as a killer, I can’t.” I sniffed. He tightened his arms around me. “I don’t want you to hate me. I know the Night Elves are my kin too, like they’re yours. I’m sorry I killed your people. I honestly felt I was protecting those that needed it.”

  “Nariella, I could never hate you. You know how important you are to me. You know how much you mean to me. I get how your mixed blood causes you to lose control. It isn’t your fault, and you’re not a murderer. You were right in the middle of a war,” Rydan soothed my broken soul.

  “But so were you and you didn’t kill anyone,” I argued, not wanting to let myself off the hook just yet.

  “I’ve killed before too,” Rydan confessed gravely. My head lifted off his shoulder in surprise to look him in the eyes. I could hardly see him through the darkness, but his eyes shone from some reflection.

  “What?” I asked, shocked.

  “Who do you think stopped that executioner from knocking your head off your crazy block?” he snickered a little. “Then all those bodies at the Willow…yeah. That was me, too. But even before that...there was a rogue-elf. I had to kill her to rescue Lómë. Nari, listen to me. I know it’s hard for you to accept what you’ve done because you didn’t grow up as a soldier. You didn’t grow up killing people; we were raised to believe in the opposite. I get all that. I get why it’s affecting you so deeply. But sometimes the sacrifice is worth it when it comes to those you care about. You did those things because you believed it to be right at the time. You were fighting for something. You were fighting for someone. And that means it was worth it. You shouldn’t regret it. A soldier was going to die no matter what, but you defended those who would’ve normally lost. You protected the weaker side. I’m proud of you.” He kissed my hairline. I snuggled closer to him, soaking up his healing words.

 

‹ Prev