Chosen Dreams

Truth is just a dream away.

Talon has been captured by the brutal Arcaian army. I'm the only one who can save him, but first I have to face my once-best-friend, Gwynn.

The minute Gwynn drank her enchanted tears, they changed her. She sided with the Arcaians. Now she'll stop at nothing to get the tears I'm protecting. I know a way to stop her, but it requires journeying into the world of dreams. I don't know much about it, but I've heard the dreamworld holds dangers beyond my wildest imagination.

And if I'm not careful, I may never wake up.

Fans of Sarah J Maas and Leigh Bardugo will love the bold twists, riveting worldbuilding, and slow-sizzle romance of Chosen Guardian!

Buy Chosen Dreams today to continue reading this remarkable fantasy romance series!

Chapter One
Warwick

The silver talisman on my wrist chafes my skin.

Sitting on the stool, I stare at the wall. There’s not a whole lot else to look at in here. I mean, unless you count the bare counters, empty glass beakers, and steel pans resting over unlit stoves.

The room, at least, makes sense.

I’m a chemist. It’s what I do.

Or what I did, before they took me.

As for why they took me? That's another matter.

I rub the talisman. It makes me think of my grandma’s tarnished silver spoons. My thoughts wander. In my mind's eye, a younger version of me is romping through wheat fields in the blazing hot sun until I’m called in by my grandma to polish that silver.

The acrid smell of the polish is so vivid I can smell it now, years later. I remember the softness of the cloth I used. The polish residue that left my fingers slick like grease.

“Like that, do you?”

Tyrus Blinnsdale’s voice breaks across the lab. He’s not just a high-ranking officer. He’s the general of the Arcaians. The soldiers who patrol my hometown, enforce a curfew none of us wants, and steal magic from whomever they please.

I have no respect for any of them, but sitting here with him now, a trickle of fear sweeps up my spine.

He steps closer to my stool, wearing a tan uniform. A stiff, short hat with a narrow brim is tucked under one arm. His hair is dark, and a sturdy mustache nestles above his thin lips like a caterpillar on a branch.

When I don’t answer, he uses his hat to gesture to the talisman I’m not aware I’ve been rubbing, and I remember his question.

I’m not sure if I like the talisman or not. It’s interesting, to say the least. Some kind of technology that’s wired into the metal released my emotions the instant I put it on. Just shortly after Miss Hawkes stole my magic.

Just shortly after her will overrode my own.

She works for him, so yeah, I’m scared right now.
It’s been a day since it happened, but my thigh still burns where the blonde woman thrust her Xian claw into my flesh and claimed me as her minion.

The sound of high heels clacks on the hard floor, and there she is, strutting in behind the general. Her face beams in my direction, like I’m some adorable puppy she just picked up at the pet store.

Despite my efforts to reject the feelings, fear layers itself through me at the sight of her. Fear and anger so hot it makes sweat bead down my spine beneath my shirt.

I lose my grip on the stool I’m sitting on. My strength gives out, and I collapse to the marble floor.

She is so much more than a pretty face. She’s evil. Just plain evil.

I can’t fathom what made someone this lovely so dark and twisted.

She stole my magic, and the lack of emotions about that fact was a blessed release. Yet, the instant she slapped this bracelet on me, the wharf blocking those emotions opened once more. A collision of pain struck me—not only in the wound she stabbed in my leg, but in my chest, too.

In my heart.

Miss Hawkes laughed at my pain. She laughed at my reaction to it.

Now, Tyrus gestures her forward. The heels of her pointed nude shoes snick their way to where I kneel, trembling on the marble.

“Looks like you’re finished reconnecting with the real you,” she says, kicking against my shoulder with her shoe and forcing my torso to face her.

She is disgustingly beautiful with porcelain skin and tapered, celery green eyes. She wears a fitted pink suit that cinches in at her narrow waist.

“You should consider yourself lucky,” she goes on. “This talisman is a gift, one we only give to servants who are…more valuable than others.”

I glare at her. Is that supposed to be a compliment?

Servants.

I’m not a servant.

I have goals. A life. I was crushing my way through pledgeschool. Graduation is only a month away. I almost have my degree in magitech electronics, and I have so many ideas on how to upgrade the way vehicles are fabricated so that running them uses less energy.

But this woman and her band of soldiers broke into my apartment in the middle of the night. They tore me from my bed. They dragged me outside and, without answering any of my questions, she sneered at me, verified my identity, and then stabbed her claw into my leg.

I hate how weak I feel after that. How heartsick I am. How I was forced to leave everyone I love and everything I was working toward behind.

I have nothing now. I’m beyond powerless now.

And it’s all her fault.