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

I shivered. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” A smirk toyed with his mouth as he took a hesitant step towards me. “Is it because you lost? I did try to warn you.”

“Apparently you’re not surprised.”

Darius’s smirk softened. “You’re wrong. It took nearly a full minute before my nightmare eclipsed your dream and appeared in my mirror. Your dream was stronger than I anticipated.”

Surely he was lying, but my cheeks warmed from his praise anyway. “I’m still mediocre, especially compared to you.”

“That’s definitely true, but you aren’t a complete disaster either. I wish I could have seen your dream. I’m so curious…” He tilted his head and grinned in such an endearing, inviting way that I was caught off guard.

“Why would I share it with you?”

“Please?” His green eyes glistened pleadingly. Heat crawled up my neck as those eyes melted me. There was no harm in telling him about my dream, especially since the Weaving was over. So, despite Stardust’s frantic morphing motions to the contrary, I did, omitting all the rough patches that had riddled it. He listened intently until I’d finished.

“The main problem is your dream wasn’t age appropriate,” he said. “Even though the story was nice, it didn’t touch on Maci’s limited experiences, so she was unable to generate strong emotions towards it, which is why it lost. For your next dream you should create something simpler and more suitable for a newborn, especially dreams involving touch—the warmth of arms cradling her body, kisses trailed on her cheeks, that sort of thing.”

I gaped at him. Was Darius actually giving me advice? Surely as my competitor, any advice he gave me couldn’t be trusted.

“Thanks,” I muttered reluctantly.

His cheeks darkened as he looked away. “I’m not being nice,” he said hastily. “Weaving is more fun when it’s a competition. This isn’t some Mortal sewing circle; it’s a magic of the highest order, a responsibility more powerful than anything else magical beings do. You need to take it seriously.”

It wouldn’t hurt to take advantage of his sharing mood. “Which flowers did you use for your nightmare? You said there were only two?”

“Coldness and pressure, plus some impressive stitchery, of course. Nightmares about discomfort are best for a newborn.”

How could something so simple have beaten my detailed dream? “I just thought it would be…more elaborate.” Like the nightmare he’d given me had been. The memory of hundreds of spiders exploring my body scurried into my mind. I shivered.

“Elaborate dreams are fun to weave, but they’re not necessary to win,” he said. “Not to mention a Nightmare Weaver’s flowers are limited until a Mortal is older, so I do what I can with what I have to work with.”

And he’d succeeded. Even now, several minutes later, the coldness from his nightmare still seeped over me.

Darius bid me farewell until tomorrow before disappearing with a loud crack! As soon as he was gone, Stardust launched into her tirade.

“How humiliating. He was actually condescending enough to give you advice. That’s beyond cocky; he acts as if he’d still beat you, even if you were the greatest Weaver. And I told you your dream was too complicated, but did you listen to me? No, and that’s why we got lectured by that egotistical spiderweb creep.”

“I didn’t lose because my dream was too complicated; I just need to better understand newborns.” I kept silent about the fact that I also needed more practice in constructing them.

Stardust gawked at me in disbelief. “So it means nothing to you that Spiderweb beat your mammoth dream with only two flowers?”

“I’m not changing my strategy,” I said firmly. “Especially considering Darius is the one who suggested it.” It was undoubtedly a trap. With the animosity between our two worlds, what motive could he possibly have to help me?

Stardust sighed. “You’re making a huge mistake. I’m ready to say ‘I told you so’ the moment you realize I’m right.”

Then I would do all in my power to ensure that moment never came.

Chapter 15

Unfortunately, my determination proved futile. The next few months were torturous, as if I’d stumbled into a never-ending nightmare I couldn’t escape. When I’d yearned to be a Weaver, I hadn’t anticipated the drought of ideas, hours of planning and scouring the Cultivating Fields for difficult-to-find details, constant sore fingers from creating hundreds of complicated stitches, and night after night losing to my weaving partner.

Darius himself was quite the paradox. Whenever Stardust was around he seemed to take great delight in teasing me, smirking at my every mistake, and taking every opportunity to gloat. I struggled to ignore him, and he wasn’t the only thing—each night our woven dreams appeared above Maci. Sometimes I couldn’t resist the temptation to peek inside, but that was risky because each time I did so made Darius increasingly suspicious.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he repeatedly demanded. “I’ve studied Mortals enough to know your behavior is abnormal even for them.”

I evaded his questions as best I could and did my best to focus on my weaving, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the painful fact that I always lost, and lost bitterly. My only refuge after each painful failure was dream watching, which I did almost daily, especially on the nights after I accidentally stumbled into one of Darius’s creepy nightmares.

However, whenever Stardust wasn’t around, things were different—not only was Darius kinder, but there were many times when I’d glance over to find him watching me not with his usual glower, but with a softened look. It was during these moments that he seemed so sincere. But I couldn’t ignore the hard look that filled his eyes whenever he mocked me and called me Nemesis, nor the moments when our gazes met and he’d hastily look away with another comment about how long I was taking and how he didn’t have to wait for me, although he always did. Darius’s one redeeming quality was that he always gave me a fighting chance.

“That’s