American library books Β» Other Β» Hive Queen by Sinclair, Grayson (positive books to read .txt) πŸ“•

Read book online Β«Hive Queen by Sinclair, Grayson (positive books to read .txt) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Sinclair, Grayson



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the water along the walls made getting lost in thought easy here. I had to quit when my stomach growled with hunger.

I lowered down into the bath, the water came up almost to my neck. The bath was built for Sam, who was a bit taller than me. At least it didn't swallow me completely, though if I were any shorter, it would. I proceeded to wash myself clean. As the soap ran over my pale skin, hints of vanilla, lavender, and cherry stuck to me. It smelled like Sam, which sent my heart fluttering.

I washed the sweat from the night before from my skin and let the water carry the suds away. I wonder how the bath stays clean? Sam said he had help from Adam in building it, but I hadn't the first clue how it worked. Sam told me Adam was a genius with building things, but I couldn't begin to understand how he did it.

When my hair was clean, I grabbed the washrag floating in the water and cleaned my ears. They needed extra attention, and I would need to see if Sam had any oil I could rub on them. They dried out and flaked easily if I didn't take care of them.

I looked through the rack, but there was nothing there. I didn't expect there to be, but Sam was very hygienic and kept himself clean, so I was hoping. I guess I could ask Makenna or Evelyn if they have any. Yumiko also takes good care of herself, but I’d rather not ask her.

I wouldn't bother the vampire unless I didn't have a choice. Maybe Sam isn't the only one who needs to get past his prejudices? I had a strong distaste of the nocturnals, but I could do with being more tolerant of them. Or Yumiko, at least.

My rumbling stomach screamed for attention, and so I unwillingly climbed out of the bath. My hair was still soaking wet, and it kept getting in my face. I wonder if Sam keeps an extra hair tie around somewhere?

I padded over to the washbasin next to the bath. The gray stone was cool to the touch. It was nice after the heat from the bath. The steam made me lightheaded. The mirror had fogged over, so I wiped it clear with my hand. My reflection stared back at me. The pale skin of my face was red with the heat of the bath.

My dark blonde hair even darker and heavy with water, it streamed down my face to drip onto the floor. My black eyes stared back at me. I'd always hated them because they were so different than the others. Everyone else got pretty rainbow colors, and I got stuck with the ugly black ones. Father hated them and would insult them whenever he could. But that was then.

I don't mind them so much anymore; they have a depth to them that the others of my kind didn’t have.

It took time, but I was coming to accept and even enjoy the previous aspects about myself that I once hated. Though as I stared down at my breasts, I still wished they were a bit bigger, even if Sam liked them. I grabbed a towel and dried and brushed my hair. There wasn't a hair tie on the basin, just more soap and Sam's razor. With the towel wrapped around me, I left the bathroom and went to get dressed.

I placed the towel in the wicker hamper by the bathroom door and went searching for a hair tie. The first place I searched was the wardrobe, but I didn't have any luck. There were several sets of armor and my chestplate in the top, along with our casual clothes in the bottom drawers, but no hair ties. Since I was over here, I picked out what clothes I wanted to wear.

Sam bought me plenty of outfits to wear, as well as several matching skirts, I didn't really see the need to wear them, but Sam was adamant about it. At least he didn't make me wear shoes. I hated shoes with a passion. Nothing but cramped, sweaty toe prisons, and I'd had enough of prison to last several lifetimes.

I picked up one of my newest shirts. It was a deep burgundy color with a high collar that clasped around my throat. I might just leave it unbuttoned, though. I slid it on and tried to find a matching skirt. I had several ones that would work, and I decided on a black one that stopped mid-thigh. I had a longer skirt, but I preferred the short one.

β€œIf I’m forced to wear one, I’m going to wear the one that covers me as much as absolutely necessary and not an inch more.”

When I was dressed, I checked the last place I could find a hair tie, the nightstand. I opened the top drawer to find it dominated by pieces of wood in disarray, along with a set of knives and odd instruments. There was a rather large piece of wood that looked to be in the process of being carved. I picked it up and turned it over.

I gasped in surprise. It was me. A tiny, incredibly detailed statue of me, down to my eyes and ears. It was carved with loving detail and could only be from someone who loved the subject. I couldn't stop the few tears that fell from my eyes, nor from my heart straining against my ribcage like it was going to burst from my chest. It's beautiful, Sam. Thank you.

I set the sculpture back in the drawer carefully as not to damage it in the slightest. I didn't want him to know that I'd seen it; I would have to act surprised when he showed it to me. Just thinking about it brought more emotion welling up, so I doubted it would be

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