Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1) Camille Peters (books to improve english txt) 📖

“You can’t miss the Weaving,” Stardust pressed. “Spiderweb is already suspicious of you, and you’re on probation. If you don’t show up…”

I fiddled with the jars on my shelves and didn’t answer. Despite my terror of the Council’s reaction, it paled in comparison to Darius learning the truth. I knew it shouldn’t matter what he thought of me, but I found that it did, very much.

I care for him.

This secret part of my heart both confused and frightened me. My feelings for him were forbidden. We were supposed to be not only competitors but enemies. But I couldn’t deny the feelings between us. How could I face him now and risk losing him?

“I told you I’m not going,” I said. “I can’t.”

“But not going will tip the balance further.”

I stiffened. The balance I’d tried to fix but had instead only made worse. But despite my mistakes, I couldn’t purposefully do anything to harm it. Attending the Weaving was the most sensible thing to do, especially with my standing with the Council hanging by a thread. Besides, there was no point in hiding; I’d have to face Darius sooner or later.

Stardust breathed a sigh of relief as I sat up to shove a random bunch of leftover flowers into my bag, along with Mother’s notebook, the reality rose, and my nightmare flower, all of which I always kept safely on me, just in case anyone poked around my things. At the last moment I also packed Angel’s dream; it felt wrong leaving it here, so close to Angel still mourning its loss down the hall.

I spent the remaining time prior to the Weaving perched in front of the dreams I’d collected since my stay in the Dream World, a collection that used to bring me joy but now only made me sick to think of my multitude of crimes. They lined the shelves like a string of glistening lights, color that sparkled across every surface of my room, casting waltzing patterns along the mural walls.

I admired their contents as I arranged the dream jars around a space reserved for Angel’s complete candy land dream. But the once vibrant colors each jar contained now seemed dim, because rather than the snippets of fantastic visions I’d previously cherished, the jars in my collection now only represented stolen magic. And more than that, they represented my selfishness, for even though I’d later tried to use my collection to help the Dream World, I’d originally acquired them for me and me alone.

Yet despite my horror over my actions, the temptation to expand my collection still seduced my thoughts. I wasn’t sure where it came from; perhaps dream capturing had become such a part of me that the thought of giving it up forever was torturous. But I had to give it up, for my need to remain in my true home eclipsed everything else. I couldn’t risk getting caught, nor could I bear to hurt Angel again.

And yet my dark desires lingered, seductive in their taunting whispers…I only hoped I’d be able to control it.

Chapter 33

Although Darius was friendly during the Weaving, paranoia still clenched my heart. I imagined his suspicious gaze scrutinizing my every move, only to glance up to find he wasn’t even watching me, despite him having spent the past several Weavings staring at me. Why was he avoiding me now? Could he sense my guilt? Was he gathering additional clues for his investigation? Even if he didn’t realize I was the dream dust thief now, surely he would soon; he’d managed to figure out almost everything else. I wished more than ever I’d stayed home.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Darius said conversationally as I shakily attempted to rethread my needle for the third time. I flinched instinctively, as if his innocent comment was an indictment. “Since your secret ability is out of the bag, care to give me any tips?”

Stardust rolled her eyes while I simply stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve spied not only on my nightmares, but dozens of others as well. I’ve obviously never been able to get any feedback from one of my nightmare recipients before, so I was hoping…” He flashed me a rather charming grin.

“You’re asking me for feedback?” I asked blankly, still trying to process that his uncharacteristically humble inquiry hadn't been the accusation I’d been expecting.

He nodded. “What specific techniques would you say triggered your fear the most? Did you find spiders scurrying over a Mortal strong enough to carry an entire nightmare on its own, or could it have perhaps used a few more creepy details?”

Bolt poked his head out from Darius’s hair. “I keep telling him that spiders are all he needs to create a winning nightmare, but he’s convinced he needs more.”

“It wasn’t even scary,” I lied, not willing to give my already-difficult-to-beat partner any further tips. “Out of all the nightmares I’ve seen, yours was by far the least frightening.” I didn’t mention the fact that I seldom viewed nightmares.

He looked entirely crestfallen, but his dejection lasted only a moment before he straightened to his usual tall, confident pose. “You can’t fool me. I felt your delicious fear, and only intense emotion would have yielded me such a heaping amount of dream dust. If you don’t want to give me any advice, just say so.”

Scowling, I yanked my flowers and dream blueprint from my bag. Darius eyed the pile of flowers warily. “Try and leave some flowers for the other Dreamers.”

Normally, his endearing smile and gentle teasing would have caused my stomach to flip, but tonight I only felt empty. He wouldn’t be so friendly if he knew the truth—that any trust he placed in me was trust I had never deserved.

He frowned. “No smile or even one of your usual scowls. Something’s wrong.” In an instant, his teasing manner softened into one of deep concern. “What is it, Eden?”

How could he