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

created appeared above Maci as a swirly aqua orb, just like the ones I’d seen floating around the village. Because it was being viewed at the moment, if I entered the dream now I’d be able to watch the entire thing in all its vivid detail. I glanced sideways at Angel, now preoccupied with polishing her fingernails, before I focused on the dream and tumbled inside.

I found myself nestled within a bed of feathered clouds, which swayed back and forth in a gentle breeze as “Rock-a-Bye Baby” trilled in a soft, melodious hum. The dream wasn’t long, but it was simple and elegant, perfect for a newborn. Despite my poor stitches—evident by the occasional gaps in my details, as if the dream was already a few hours old—it was still quite good. It ended as gently as it’d begun.

My surroundings faded until I once more floated in Maci’s bedroom. A twirl of dream dust flew through the air and seeped into my locket, my payment for the dream.

Angel bounced on her heels. “See, that wasn’t too hard. You’ll have weaving down in no time, and soon you’ll be skilled enough to give Maci multiple dreams a night as she grows older.”

Warm satisfaction blossomed in my chest. The dream I’d just watch unfold hadn’t been another Weaver’s, it’d been mine.

Angel helped me gather the flowers we hadn’t used, which were entertaining themselves with a game of leap frog and seemed quite reluctant to return to my bag.

“You’ll be fine on your own tomorrow,” Angel said. “But I’ll stay with you the rest of the week anyway, just like the Council suggested—”

“They only required you to assist me the first day.” With the confidence of my first successful Weaving still fresh, the lie came easily. Tomorrow I’d be weaving with my Nightmare partner, and the last thing I wanted was to have Angel hovering over me like a babysitter. Not only would it make me seem weak, but I was certain that after a bit more practice I’d be more than capable of going solo.

“Alright,” Angel said slowly. “If you’re sure…”

“Positive.” If every Weaving was like tonight, I’d be an expert in no time.

I startled as lightning cracked and another Weaver sizzled onto the scene and emerged from the shadows. My stomach sank as I caught sight of the intruder’s spiderweb tattoos. Not him—anyone but him.

I hadn’t seen Nightmare Darius since our encounter near the burnt remains of my house, but I’d been hoping never to encounter him or his accusations ever again, especially when I was still uncertain about how much I could trust him. And yet my heart still gave a strange leap when our gazes met.

“What are you doing here?” Angel stole the words from the protests ravaging my mind. “You know Nightmares are forbidden to weave on a Mortal’s first night.”

He didn’t even glance at her, his narrowed gaze on me, no trace of the friendliness that had occasionally filled our previous interactions. “Good evening, Nemesis.” His voice was hard but collected, oozing with forced politeness.

Nemesis? Confusion prickled my heart at his sudden hostility. “I have a name.”

“I know, but Nemesis suits you better.”

Angel glanced back and forth between us. “Do you two know each other?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He looked me up and down. “You’re more glittery than the last time I saw you. Did you fall into an entire batch?”

Heat tickled my cheeks. “It’s my new style.”

“I see.” He didn’t say this rudely, but the look in his eyes made me feel he was making fun of me. I self-consciously tried to rub some of the glitter off my arms, but I only managed to spread it around more.

“At least I don’t have spiderwebs crawling all over me or hair that looks like flames.”

His upright olive-green hair fizzled. “Only a few minutes into our partnership and we’re already quarreling. It’s going to be torture interacting with you every night of our Mortal’s life.”

His meaning hit me. “You’re Maci’s Nightmare Weaver?”

“I am.” He bowed. “Not only was I the top student in all my classes, but weaving happens to be my forte. You haven’t even set foot in the Academy, let alone had much time to practice. The competition between us will be non-existent. The Council was foolish to give you this chance.”

“Leave her alone,” Angel said. “The Council measured her abilities and deemed her suitable to the task.”

He shrugged. “We shall see, won’t we?”

I didn’t like the wicked glint in his eyes. “Of all the Nightmares in the Universe, why did you have to be chosen as my partner?”

He smirked. “It would be a delightful twist of fate if that were the case, but it so happens I requested you.”

“You requested me?” This just kept getting worse and worse.

Angel gaped at him. “Can you do that?”

“Of course. After all, my Mother is the Head Nightmare. I even gave up my current Mortal—who was just becoming old enough to weave delightfully scary nightmares for—to do so.”

I didn’t care how he’d managed it; I only had one question: “Why?”

“Because you and I have unfinished business, Nemesis,” he said. “Did you honestly believe I’d walk away from all the suspicious things I’ve discovered about you just because the Council told me to? Please. You don’t belong in our world, and I’m determined to prove it.”

I stared at him, my heart wrenching with a feeling that felt very much like betrayal. “Yes I do. I’m a Dreamer whose magical ability has earned my place here.” But my voice wavered, and my earlier fears which had been slumbering in the back of my mind resurfaced: perhaps I didn’t belong after all.

A look almost like regret filled Darius’s expression. His gaze darted towards Angel watching our exchange and the emotion vanished, hardening back to his previous hostility. “The Dream Council are fools. I was smart enough to back down at the meeting, but I know you were lying to them; you may not have seen Head Dreamer Galaxy’s dream, but I