Immortal Dreams (Immortal Realms Book 1) Page 3

  “Wh-where am I?” she stammered, when she could finally get a breath. She would kill Amele for poisoning her last night with all that alcohol. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t. As shocking as this all was, it was a pleasant change from the nightmares that usually plagued her at night.

  “Welcome to Loveryn, Isabel. It is our home.”

  She looked behind him and saw that they were standing by a crystal lake with that grand white palace rising from the cliffs in the distance to the right. It was breathtaking. She felt like she had been dropped into a book from her childhood; a fairytale of course. Her mouth hung agape as she spun in a slow circle, taking in the strange trees and flowers that surrounded them. Everything here glowed—including the dream man before her.

  “I’m so sorry, how rude of me. My name is Bodhe.” He made a gentle bowing gesture that would have made her laugh, but she was still in too much shock and awe with her surroundings. This dream felt so real, she even had goosebumps on her arms from the warm wind that trailed along her exposed skin. Or maybe that was him causing the goosebumps? That could definitely be the cause. She swallowed hard as she got lost for a moment in the deep timber of his voice and those beautiful, deep green eyes.

  He just stared at her with that perfect, bow shaped mouth in a half grin. “Bodhe,” she whispered uneasily, “how do you know my name?” she asked, starting with the only question she could form yet. He smiled deeper and took a step toward her, the scent of woods and spice dripping in the breeze as he did.

  “Of course I would know your name, Isabel. I have been waiting for you…for a very long time.”

  “Waiting for me? Why on earth would you be waiting for me?” She eyed him with curiosity and disbelief. Certainly he was mistaking her for someone else? And shit, this was just a dream right? How on earth had she managed to conjure all this up in her subconscious? “You must be confusing me with someone else, Bodhe.” But even as the words came out of her mouth they felt foreign on her tongue. She looked around nervously and noticed the quiet humming that surrounded her. It was as if everything was so alive here that it vibrated. Or maybe this was where her gorgeous God turned into a monster and the humming became a thousand demons coming to steal her soul? That was more like her subconscious. Not this. Not him.

  “No, Princess, it is definitely you that I’ve been waiting for. Come with me, Isabel. We will walk for a bit and get acquainted.” He held out a hand to her and waited.

  Waiting for me? Yeah right. I wonder if he likes lighting? She almost laughed at her thoughts, but refrained, and since she couldn’t think of a good reason not to walk with him, she took his hand tentatively. As their skin touched, small lightning bolts passed between them.

  “Oh!” she squeaked, “I’m so sorry.” Isabel looked up at him and he just smiled, flashing her some seriously straight, seriously white, and seriously beautiful teeth. Teeth are so important. You can be the most beautiful person in the world, but if you don’t take care of your teeth, it ruins it. Isabel was religious about her own dental care. Why the hell was she thinking about oral hygiene? Oh, because he smiled at her and she was a blundering idiot now. Check. She blushed and looked down, eyes darting to the enormous hand that held her own small one. She wasn’t a short woman, but she was average, barely five foot seven, and her small frame seemed especially so next to his much larger one. A stray curl flew in front of her face and he tucked it behind her ear in a gentle gesture that had her cheeks burning all the more. Her hair was loose and wild, auburn curls cascading around her shoulders and down to the small of her back.

  He began to lead her toward the lake and the grass beneath her feet was a soft as her dress. It felt like heaven. She adored walking barefoot, always had. Apparently, so did dream-man. Looking down, she noticed that even his feet were beautiful. Shaking her head slightly at herself, she realized it was an odd thing to notice. Just as odd as the dental hygiene mental rant. Leave it to her, lightning girl, to ogle a man’s feet. She felt another fiery blush hit her face and looked up to find him staring.

  “Gods, you are beyond my wildest dreams, Isabel. So very beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes beginning to burn with an emerald fire. She felt the heat radiating from him like pulsing waves rushing over her skin that caused some serious butterflies in her stomach. No, not butterflies, the whole damned zoo was raging within her. She noticed then that there was definitely nothing beneath her dress because her body responded to his voice, certain things rising to meet him, as if on command. She tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing came out. This gorgeous creature was looking at her like she was his greatest gift and she was struck mute. Oh hell, this was a dream right? Why shouldn’t she enjoy it? It felt so damn real, though, to all her senses.

  “I’m sorry. I…I guess I just need a moment to let this marinate. I don’t usually have dreams as good as this.” She looked around again in awe. “It’s so beautiful here,” she said, her eyes roaming over the ethereal landscape. Oh what she wouldn’t give to stay here and study this dream place. And hell yes, study this man too. She licked her suddenly dry as the desert lips, and felt his hand squeeze hers.

  “Yes, it’s the most beautiful of all the Immortal Realms. But this is no ordinary dream, surely you can feel that?”

  She looked at him sideways for a moment. “It’s not my usual nightmares, thank God. But this must be just a dream. A very pleasant one,” she grinned, “but a dream, nonetheless.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He winked at her and they continued on through the lush green grasses that squished pleasantly between her toes. Though there were no others around that she could see, she had the distinct impression that they were not alone. She didn’t feel anything bad nearby, it was just the hairs raising on her neck that made her look around in slight trepidation. She kept stealing glances at him as they walked too, and half expected him to turn into a raging beast of her nightmares any second, but he just smiled at her sweetly each time she looked his way. The ends of his soft hair brushed against her arm as they walked and she would swear it was made of the finest silk in the world—whatever world this was she’d dreamed up.

  A few minutes later they came across a field of grazing creatures, none of which she could name. Some had scales, some had feathers, but they all appeared to have wings, even if some were tucked away. One of them looked like it was straight out of her Greek mythology book. It was white and had extraordinarily large, feathered wings, like a Pegasus. She had an overwhelming sensation to go touch it, even ride it, even though she had barely ever even ridden a horse in her life. If it could fly though? She thought back to her useless dream dictionary she’d bought so long ago and couldn’t remember one part of it mentioning men with pointed ears and Pegasus’s.

  “Can those creatures...fly?” she whispered, not wanting to disturb their silent grazing. The scaled one scared her a little, though she would not be admitting that out loud, dream or not.

  He laughed softly. “Of course they can. As can I, Princess.”

  She stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “No, way.”

  “Yes, wayyyy,” he said, mimicking the way she drew out the word.

  “H-how is that possible? What are you?”

  He looked at her and raised his chest proudly. “I am Sidhe, Isabel. As are you,” he said, as he looked at her seriously then and watched her face.

  “I’m a what?”

  “Sidhe,” he said again. Pronouncing it again as, ‘Shee-ee’.

  Mythology classes were her favorite. She’d studied every mythological being known to mankind and stopped in her tracks, staring at him. “No. You can’t be serious?” She shook her head dramatically. “I’ve read about the Sidhe…they are faeries. Mythical beings that don’t exist! And you can’t be seriously telling me that I’m one too? What the hell did I drink last night?” she said as she groaned and gripped her head with the hand not occupied by his. “It figures that the first nice dream I have in forever would be of a barely clothed hottie telling
me we’re both faeries. So where are my cute little wings? And where’s my pixie dust then?” she asked, her voice almost hysterical, and definitely on the verge of manic laughter.

  He noticeably winced at her words, lightning striking her hand when theirs separated, and then the temperature in the ethereal paradise she dreamt up plummeted to freezing depths. Rain began to pour down in sleeting sheets of ice all around them before his voice came out as if on a loud speaker overhead. “We are NOT faeries!” he roared. “What a degrading term for the beautiful immortals that we are. Do I look like I have cute little wings to you?” He spun his body in a slow circle as the cloth stuck to his skin from the rain, highlighting all the powerful muscles that were barely hidden beneath. His arms raised by his sides as he circled, watching her with an intensity she’d never seen before as her own eyes widened in fear. His green iris’s went almost black for a moment, the green was so dark in them. Thunder cracked, lighting hit the earth in an otherwise clear sky, and it took everything in her not to scream in terror. This, this was more like her dreams now. Enter the beast of the nightmares. Only he wasn’t a beast in the sense of having two heads and horns. He was a beast in the deathly beautiful, and outrageously angry beast sense.

  “Am I small and petite, Princess?” he hissed. “Do you think that I, the High Prince of Loveryn and heir to the greatest throne in all the Immortal Realms, would spend my days frolicking through fields and sprinkling magic dust on the plants, or whatever other ridiculous notions you have?” He glared at her. Thunder crashed again in the distance making her jump, and the gentle humming that was previously somewhat peaceful raised to a higher, almost unbearable pitch in her ears. Pressure began to swell painfully between her eyes as tears welled within them.

  She stood there, mouth open but unable to speak for a moment. A tear fell down her face then and she watched his anger melt away in a fraction of a second but she was no less terrified.

  “N-no,” she stuttered, “I didn’t mean that…oh, God, shit! I’m so sorry. I never think before I speak and I really didn’t mean anything by it. Go ahead, grow your damned fangs and scales now and eat me alive,” she said before pausing and shaking her head. “But, no, please, don’t do that really. It’s so not fun to dream-die. I feel pain in my dreams, along with everything else apparently, including mortification. I don’t usually smell things though, which is making me really freaked out, along with your anger right now. Why am I explaining myself to a God that’s about to turn to a devil that I just pissed off in my dreams? I’ve well and truly lost my mind. The monsters never ever eat you if you ask them not to nicely, right?” she said on a shriek, not caring that his face had gone from fury to complete concern. “Oh my God, I can’t even do things right in my dreams! Of course we’re not faeries, because faeries don’t freaking EXIST! Oh holy hell in a hand basket. I’ve lost it completely. All the stress of final exams and I go out one night—just one damn night and get plastered—and this nightmare is the result of it. Hot guy, wonderful dreamscape, and bam! I create a nightmare. Only I could screw up a beautiful dream. I’m so damn awesome.” She slumped down in the grass and covered her face in her hands. Wake up already, she willed herself.

  She felt the lightning shock again as his hands touched hers and brought them from her face, unable to stop herself from flinching as he did so. He’s going to kill me now, and I hate dream-dying. It hurts, she thought.

  “Calm down, I’m not going to bite. At least not this very moment.” She saw him smirk a little, but didn’t find the humor in being eaten alive. Not one iota. “Look, Isabel, I’m not very good at this either. I didn’t mean to get so upset. It’s hard for me to remember that you weren’t raised in the Immortal Realms. We hate the term faerie,” he growled. “It was created by one of our neighboring realms and brought into the mortal one as a joke. We are nothing like that, obviously, and it’s extremely embarrassing to the strength of our race. We are direct descendants of the Gods, and our people are the closest to them in lineage. It’s not humorous to us to be compared to little bugs that sit on rose petals, and beg for a mortal’s attention. Your children’s movie, ‘Hook’ was entertaining…and I personally enjoyed the actor who played Peter Pan immensely even if my family refused to watch it, but it was absolutely ridiculous in the way it portrayed us. I apologize for my outburst. Please, will you come with me? I have something for you that is long overdue.” he pleaded softly, the fire in his eyes receding to a soft glow again, and the warmth of his hands was once more penetrating her own. Her skin was suddenly dry, as was her dress, and the freezing cold air warmed to a comfortable temperature once more.

  Of course it was a joke from another realm. How silly of her to have not known that? She wanted to break into that hysterical laughter again, but his eyes kept her just barely grounded. He was so serious as he studied her face, his apology written in his eyes for scaring the bejeezus out of her. How was she supposed to say no to this man, Sidhe, whatever he was? Inches from her face, the waves of heat that passed between them nearly drowned her in unknown pleasures. She could only imagine what the touch of his mouth was like. Why the hell was she thinking about scary beautiful dream man’s mouth after he scared the shit out of her? Loony bin, she was headed there pronto when she woke up. But she didn’t want him to eat her or tear her apart either, so she nodded slowly, unsure of everything but unwilling to let this turn into more of a nightmare.

  Why not? It’s not like the dream could get any worse at this point. Or was she really awake and already in the loony bin, in some delusional state from alcohol poisoning? It would surely explain the sensations. There must be a television on in her room and some weird fantasy show on. She could never sleep with the TV on. No matter what, she always dreamt of what was on it. Once, Amele had left it on when she left and Isabel had fallen asleep during whatever fifties era film Amele had been watching. When it changed from the end of that movie to ‘The Walking Dead,’ well, Amele wasn’t allowed to ever leave her house again if the damn thing was going. Being eaten by zombies over and over again until she could force herself awake was a bad, bad night. She shivered remembering how real that had felt. Whatever, she would go with dream-guy. At least he hadn’t changed into a three headed dragon and scorched her or the walking dead or something. And he said he didn’t bite…well, not yet. That was a plus. Zombies definitely bit in her nightmares—and hard.

  Note to self, don’t ever call them faeries.

  He smiled at her a little as she thought that, and she wondered if dream-guy was able to hear her thoughts too, on top of all the other powers he appeared to possess. Because that would be so completely awesome right about now.

  “Isabel?”

  “I’m really sorry…about the whole f-faerie thing,” she stuttered again, her heart still pounding.

  “It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. That term just makes us very…upset.”

  Isabel felt her face wrinkle in a frown. “I noticed. Are there any other things I should know about before we continue? I can’t seem to wake myself up, which is strange, and I’d like to keep the rest of this dream peaceful if possible. It’s the first nice one I’ve had in a long time. Other than pissing you off, of course.”

  His head cocked to the side at her words and she thought she’d done it again. He said he was a Prince, didn’t he? She wondered if anyone ever spoke like that around Sidhe Princes? Likely not. Did they even speak in slang in the Immortal Realms? Holy shit, immortal. How old was her dreamy eyed God exactly? At the risk of seeing a Life Alert commercial in her brain where someone had fallen and couldn’t get up, and pissing him off about that, she didn’t go near that question.

  “Not that I can think of at the moment. I promise I’ll behave from now on. Come with me, please? Let us explore.” He smiled that dazzling, white smile again, oddly making her at ease once more. He was like night and day, and holy shit, she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his night side again. She nodded at him, unsure what she
was agreeing to. If nothing else, she was adaptable. Crazy and delusional it seemed, but adaptable.

  She gasped slowly as he gathered her up in his arms as if she were a doll and lifted her through the air. He cradled her against his chest as the wind began whipping around them, the ground getting further and further away. No, he definitely did not have wings and yes, he definitely could fly. She looked at him with panic in her eyes, her fear of heights beckoning a tide of nausea.

  “Oh, that’s just not possible. You’re afraid of heights? This will not do for a Sidhe, Princess. Just keep your eyes on me then.” He chuckled.

  Yes, because that was much better. Look at the ground and feel sick or look at him and want to tear the very dress from her body even though he scared her. This dream must be a direct result of twenty somethings that still haven’t had sex because cruel forces of nature keep preventing them from doing so. And what was this constant Princess thing all about?

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” She looked at him curiously, the panic and sexual discomfort receding just slightly as she focused on his eyes.

  “Princess? Because you are, of course. Why else?” he said with not an ounce of humor on his face.

  “Of course, how silly of me to have asked. But the thing is, I’m not a princess. I’m merely a girl from the little, podunk town of Montreat. My parents—who were definitely not royalty in any way—have passed, bless their souls—and I’m just a student at a university who can hardly remember to set the coffee maker most mornings. I’m not intriguing in any way unless you count the fact that any time a boy tries to even kiss me, tornados and lightning try to kill him.”

  He smiled at the last part of her story. “I’m sorry to hear about your mortal family,” he said to her sincerely. “It figures Keiren would safeguard you somehow, but the fact that she didn’t lose her sense of humor is wonderful to hear. I wonder what would happen if I kissed you? Would we be struck down from the sky? Oh, and you’re very wrong about something else, too. You’re far from being just a girl, and you’re immensely intriguing to me.”