Blossoming Dreams Novels & Stories

“You…deceived her? Many times she claimed I tried to kill her, you came to her defense, challenging me for it but you of all people know I would never hurt her.” Eros’s lips tipped up in a lazy smile. “It’s called Trust, brother. I needed a way to draw her to my side and you just seemed the best thing available. A little moonveil blossom here and there did the trick.” I shot a sharp look to Jega who stepped forward. “It’s just like I warned. The moonveil blossom can serve as either a cloaking plant or a hallucination pollen. Whoever your mate saw was a trick of the mind. Not you.”

I stared at the ceiling, "I can talk to him for hours about literally nothing and not get bored. His laugh that he doesn't show a lot, it's deep and beautiful and his eyes light up when he's genuinely laughing. He calls me Bloom like it's my real name and it makes me feel special to him because he's the only one who can call me that otherwise it won't feel right. Every time he stands so close to me and I just feel like I'm going to melt. He cares about me so much, he'll hardly let me drive alone and will give me a ride even if I have my car. He always makes sure I get home safe. When he gets bored while I'm trying to tutor him and starts throwing random things like erasers or pillows or chip

I dream of confusion, of tangled stories, of the chipping, grinding, carving of stones. In my dreams, I hear low rumbling growls and high pitched howling, see full moons and glittering constellations. I see Layla and Arnold holding a tiny bear cub, and Sarah and Nash riding enormous white bears into the sky. I smell Jasper beside me, feel a new claiming mark hot against my skin. I’m the first one to awake. My dream is still lingering in the front of my mind. And it gives me an idea.

The most beautiful smell of honey and peaches invading all of my senses. Gripping me in every way Mate! Mate! Get mate! I felt my eyes shifting darker, I could smell her, and when I looked further up the staircase I could see her. My little mate. Blossom's POV "Come on we'll be late!" Quinn practically screamed at me "Why do you even care? You already have a mate... what are you getting out of tonight?" I asked as I pinned my hair up in the mirror. She was sat on the bed, putting her blue heels on, her white dress flowing over the edge of the covers.

The air hangs heavy with unspoken desires and uncharted territory as they linger in this moment of intimacy, each word and touch laden with unspoken meaning. In Audrey's dream, she finds herself in the breathtaking beauty of the garden that surrounds her, the golden sunlight casting a warm glow over the blooming flowers of every color. The sweet scent of roses fills the air, mingling with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. She feels a sense of peace and serenity wash over her as she walks through the garden, the soft petals of the flowers brushing against her skin.

“Aria hey look at me.” But I couldn’t. The pulse wasn’t just sound. It rippled through my body, sliding under my skin like cold silver ink. “She knows we chose,” I whispered. Ares shook his head. “She doesn’t even know what day it is. She’s asleep.” “No,” Clara corrected softly. “She’s dreaming.” And then she added the three words that froze my blood: “And she dreams of us.” The corridor trembled again not violently, but with rhythm. Like a second heartbeat. Like footsteps approaching from a dimension we couldn’t see.

When she woke up from her stupor the next morning, the sun was shining brightly outside her window, and she found a bunch of dew-covered lilies on the front of her door. The wind blew gently, carrying away every last bit of her horrible memories. Melanie thought that it was really time for her to start all over again. Farewell, Raymond Johnson.

Maybe, when the end is near, your heart just gets lighter. I smiled and started describing the plans I had made back then. How the photo wall should go right under the stained glass, how every guest's name tag should be hand-carved and not printed, how the hydrangeas had to be full and clustered, circling the aisle and not scattered around, how the lighting needed to be a soft golden yellow, so everyone looked warm and kind, and how the whole hall should be pure white, like a fresh snowfall in the beginning of spring. Just like my favorite flower's meaning. Hope, patience, reunion.

"How about we check out the lavender fields? What do you say?" I grinned and gave him a nod. "Sounds like a plan to me." Two days later, as Trevin was starting his stint behind bars. Edward and I were on a plane to Francoria, off to wander through the dreamy lavender fields. Some people and some things, once missed, are lost for a lifetime. When choosing a path, one should be prepared to bear the consequences.

If only that sound could keep the dreams away. “Willow, you look so pale. Are you feeling alright?” Blooming Flower told her, and all Willow could do was laugh. She had no idea of the visions that had been haunting her dreams for the past eight months. It would seem the goddess wanted Willow to conceive that night. Falling Feather was so proud that he seemed to be puffing out his chest like a bird.