Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1) by Camille Peters (thriller books to read .txt) 📕

entered dreams, all we have is your word on that matter,” Darius countered. “Perhaps I was wrong to trust you. I should have turned you in to the Council when I had the chance.”

But despite his harsh, condemning words, I could tell he didn’t really mean them. Regret filled his expression as he stared at me desperately, as if he wanted nothing more than for his suspicions to be wrong. He took a steadying breath.

“Eden…are you the dream dust thief?” He stiffened, as if bracing himself for my answer.

“No,” I said. “I’m not connected in any way to the dream dust thefts or the recent Nightmare plots. I swear.”

Of course he wouldn’t want the Nightmare Realm to get any more power. It was so Darius. He stared at me, his imploring gaze boring into mine. I shifted beneath his perusal, even as I found myself staring back. This was a far different feeling than when Trinity searched my heart—this one was warm and caused my pulse to escalate, illuminating the growing feelings for Darius I couldn’t escape, no matter how much I tried to deny them.

He swore and severed his glare. “Comets, I actually believe you. Why do I always believe you? One moment I’m convinced you’re lying, then one look in those violet eyes of yours and I trust you again. From the moment we’ve met, you’ve only complicated my life, yet I’m in too deep.” He let his breath out through his teeth. “Fine, I think you’re telling the truth, but I know you have more dream dust than you earned last night, and I’m determined to figure out how.”

Sweet relief flooded through me knowing he wasn’t going to bring this information up to the already suspicious Council, and I relaxed my tense posture. But despite his assurances, a strange, uneasy feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of my stomach.

This wasn’t over yet. And I wasn’t prepared to see where this development would go.

Chapter 32

Darius’s words haunted me the entire flight back to the Dream World. I fiddled with my dream locket, heavier than it had ever been. Darius was right: I did have more dream dust since our Weaving, and not just a little bit, but considerably more than I’d ever earned from a dream. Where had it come from? The only thing I’d done since the Weaving was enter Alice’s dream and—

The realization hit me with such force I nearly toppled off Stardust. She froze mid-flight at my gasp. “What’s wrong?”

Sickening dread slithered through my bloodstream like venom. The outline of my locket dug into my palm as I clutched it, my mind frantically trying to sort through the multitude of memories now vying for my attention.

This wasn’t the first time I’d discovered unaccounted-for dream dust in my possession. The morning I first captured a portion of a dream, I’d been sure I’d used all of Mother’s dust, but when Stardust searched me later, she’d found my previously empty handkerchief filled with it.

And despite having gradually spent my unreplenished supply of magic every Weaving of Maci’s first few months, I’d always somehow managed to have enough. But as I thought about it now, never replenishing my losses should have eventually diminished my supply, rather than my amount staying more or less the same. The only obvious explanation was that I must have been receiving a consistent supply of magic in such small amounts I hadn’t noticed.

The remaining pieces fell into place: Darius’s conclusion that the magic being stolen was the same the victim had earned during their previous Weaving; the fact that the thefts always occurred at the same time I dream-watched; my preference for viewing dreams over nightmares and the fact that only Dreamers were being stolen from…by capturing dreams, I wasn’t just bottling them, but also the substance they were made of.

I was the dream dust thief.

Nauseating horror filled my heart so that I couldn’t breathe. I longed for my conclusions to be a mistake, but no matter how much I willed it otherwise, my horrible realization fit together too perfectly.

In my attempts to understand my powers and help the world I now called home, I’d done the opposite—I’d been stealing others’ magic, including from one of my only friends. No matter how much I tried to be good, catastrophe seemed to follow me like an ever-present shadow. If anyone found out…fear cinched my heart.

I needed to make this situation right by turning myself in. If I explained this had all been an accident and promise to never do it again, perhaps—

They won’t give you a chance to explain, a voice inside me whispered. They’re looking for any excuse to get rid of you. They’ll undoubtedly assume you’re responsible for the other nightmare events that are tipping the balance. You’ll be suspended for sure, and then where will you go?

No! The thought of leaving the Dream World was even more unbearable than the fact that I was an unintentional thief. No matter what happened, I had to stay here; I’d do anything to stay here.

No matter what happened, nobody couldn’t find out, not even Stardust.

“Eden? Eden?” Stardust's voice sounded far away. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t speak, lost in my stunned trance. Eyes wide with panic, Stardust zipped through the clouds back home.

We heard the yelling even before we flew through the window into Angel’s and Iris’s home. The source of the disturbance greeted us in the parlor.

“That Nightmare is going down.” Angel’s crimson face was stained with tears and her eyes were wild. “I don't care that there isn't conclusive proof. I won’t rest until the Council banishes him forever.”

Caspian stroked her hair. “Sweetheart, we don’t know whether or not Blaze is the thief. The Council can’t suspend him on suspicion alone; they need more evidence.”

Angel twisted out of his grip with a sharp glare. “Evidence? My dream dust is missing. What more evidence do they need? How many times do I have to be stolen from before the incompetent