Dreamcatcher Odd Eye Novels & Stories

She wanted her sister back but it seems that will never happen, she had lost her forever. She closed her eyes and placed her head on her pillow before falling into a deep sleep, followed by a dream. She dreamt of the king, the silver-haired man. Back in the castle, Zephyr stood on the balcony of one of the guests' rooms. A glass of blood was in his right hand and even though he looked calm, his mind was wandering around and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the green eyes girl, Penny. A knock came through the door and soon after a maid walked in. "Good evening, my king."

A sturdy set of arms curled around the small of her back, keeping her from falling. Wynter screamed and closed her eyes, anticipating a surge of anguish to shoot through her back. She gradually opened her eyes, one by one. She exclaimed, her gaze drawn to a pair of electric blue eyes peering into hers. Wynter blinks a few times before regaining her calm and picking herself up.

I was so tired that I didn’t know who the gun actually fired at but I felt my eyes drifting closed. ‘Is this what death feels like?’ I was fighting the overwhelming feeling of darkness as exhaustion and brief relief flooded through me. I could see Karla lying there as I could still move, even if it was barely. Everything was going to be okay now. My eyes were fighting to stay open, I gave a small smile knowing that the guys made it.

The sun rays are reflecting in his eyes, and there he put his arms over his eyes. It is peaceful. There's not a lot of people at this time of the day. There were maybe three or four people in this garden. They're napping, eating, and some are reading novels. "I cannot believe that I will be able to see you again," a man said. Ethan removed his arms, and it's the only silhouette that he can see. He squinted his eyes more. "It's me, Neil." "Oh, Neil. Hey," Ethan stood up.

Despair settled deep in my chest—I could already see the miserable fate awaiting me. Then, suddenly, I heard Levi's voice. He appeared behind me and cut through the ropes with a swift stroke. While grabbing my hand, he pulled me out of the nightmare. When I turned back, the Grant family estate was in ruins, overtaken by wild grass and blooming flowers. I held onto Levi tightly, feeling as though all the misfortune and suffering that had plagued me had finally disappeared. That night, I slept soundly for the first time in a long while. …

But suddenly, the Guardian Core spoke again, its voice urgent and booming inside all their heads: “STOP! THIS IS NOT THE WAY!” The ground cracked between the two groups, and the giant stone hand appeared again, this time with a more complete body. “ORDER OF THE CLOSED EYE! GUARDIANS! LISTEN! THERE IS A GREATER THREAT! THE WHISPERER IS NOT ALONE! HIS PARTNER, THE DREAMWEAVER, HAS AWAKENED AND IS APPROACHING! SHE IS COMING HERE, INFILTRATING THROUGH YOUR DREAMS, AND SHE BRINGS REINFORCEMENTS YOU CANNOT IMAGINE!”

The room was deathly silent except for the frantic beat of my heart in my ears. His low voice and the one from my dreams overlapped, weaving into a single key that unlocked my carefully built self-deception with a sharp click. He was Mr. Y—the man who sang off-key love songs to me at midnight, and the very same one who had chastised me relentlessly in the day. I stared at him. His handsome face was so close, and the usual coldness and distance were gone, replaced by a fragile, pleading vulnerability. The light in his eyes flickered like a candle tossed all night by a stormy wind.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm alright." Only when Cher heard my weak voice reassuring her did she cry out loud. Marcus hurried down the stairs at that moment. When he saw blood tainting the corner of my lips, he was so panicked that he shoved Cher to the side, causing her head to bang against the floor. "Honey—" I used all of my strength to slap Marcus. "Is this your so-called promise? How dare you draw blood from Cher! Marcus Lambert, I hope you'll suffer from a fate worse than death!"

It felt like an eternity had passed when I looked up again. Tristan stood before me, disheveled, eyes hollow with dark circles beneath. His stubble shadowed his face, giving him an edge of desperation. Clutching the broken pieces of our drawing, he trembled. "It's alright. We can make another one. I'll fix it." With a shaky, childlike eagerness, he held out a small amulet in both hands as if it were a trophy he'd won. "Look, Emily," he said, his voice strained, almost pleading. "I got another amulet for you."