Weaver by Tish Thawer

Author:Tish Thawer [Thawer, Tish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amber Leaf Publishing
Published: 2022-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

Our whole lives, we’ve been led to believe our dreams are the work of our subconscious. But I’m here to tell you that is not entirely true.

From the first sentence, I was hooked. Now four hours later and after reading a quarter of the book, I was happy to find out the Weaver was telling the truth. He was the manipulator of a special kind of magic and responsible for influencing the dreams of us all.

I set down the book and headed for the shower. I needed to get ready for bed so I could return to the dreamscape and tell Roarke what I found.

As I lathered my hair, the shampoo’s vanilla scent drifted to my nose, easing my frazzled nerves. I wasn’t nervous about seeing Roarke again after what had happened between us. Actually, I was excited to return to his arms. But what I did question was his reaction to this book. I wondered if he knew it existed at all, and the more I thought about it, the less I felt like sharing the news. Something that revealed his magic to the world seemed wrong, and I suddenly felt guilty for reading it in the first place. If I told him about it now, it would only prove I still hadn’t trusted him even when I said I did.

Finished, I wrapped myself in a towel and returned to where I left the book sitting on the side table next to the couch. Its size reminded me of a Bible like the kind you’d find in hotel drawers or the backs of your local church pews. But the secrets carried within were enormous and something I didn’t want out in the world.

I thought about what Keelyn might say when I told her I wasn’t returning the book. I’d purchase it from the library, of course, but how would she react when I asked her not to replace it?

Maybe I should tell Roarke about it after all. Then we could search out any other copies and destroy them together. I shook my head. The idea seemed ridiculous and dramatic and went against everything in my bones, but I couldn’t deny the protective urge surging inside me. The Weaver’s world and magic were ours alone.

Slipping into my flannel nightgown, I returned to the kitchen for another cup of tea. I still wasn’t sure what to do as I settled beneath the afghan on the couch, not quite ready to go to sleep. But by the time I took my last sip, my eyelids were drooping closed, pulling me farther down into the cushions and immediately into the dreamscape again.

“Hi there. Is everything okay?” Roarke’s voice was hesitant, wary. I opened my eyes and found us back in his hidden forest.

“Everything’s fine. I just had some things to do before I could go to sleep.” The lie coated my tongue, its presence viscous and sticky inside my mouth.

“Well, I’m glad you’re finally here.” He stepped up beside me and took my hand, the leaves and sticks snapping beneath his boots as he pulled us forward.

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