Hive Queen by Sinclair, Grayson (positive books to read .txt) 📕

I was so consumed with my thoughts that I nearly failed to pay attention to the object sailing through the air towards my head. I caught it on reflex and sighed when I looked down at my hands.

“Do we have to?” I asked, standing up.

“Of course. I can’t whip you into shape if you don’t practice, and babysitting isn’t my strong suit,” Evelyn said, sauntering towards me, practice sword raised.

Before she could take another step, I launched myself at her and swung with all my strength. My wooden sword connected with hers just before I’d have slammed it into her neck. She stepped back, absorbing the impact and counterattacked. The tip of her blade jammed into my stomach, taking the breath from me.

I doubled over, fighting to stay on my feet, but a swift kick from Evelyn, and I was on my back, wondering where I’d gone wrong. Evelyn frowned when I got back on my feet. Her furrowed brow and downturned lips cast doubt towards me.

“What?” I asked, my voice cracking.

She shook her head, still holding her soured look. “Again.”

I brought my sword up like she’d taught me and tried to play it cautious instead of aggressive this time. I stepped toward her slowly, watching for any sign to predict her movements. Her body poised perfectly, she gave me no hint as I crept closer. Each inch brought my heart rate skyrocketing, because I knew I could never beat her, but I had to try.

Evelyn shifted, her hips tilted to the left, and her foot slid forward half an inch. It was just enough to let me know which way she was attacking, and I stepped to her right, thrusting my sword toward her exposed ribs.

My practice sword fell from my numb hands as Evelyn rapped me hard across the wrist with the flat of her blade. It tumbled to the dirt and kicked up a small cloud of dust.

I flexed my fingers, trying to work out why they weren’t responding. I picked up my sword and stood, settling back into my stance, but Evelyn shook her head.

“Hand me the sword,” she commanded.

I did as she asked but had to ask. “Why?”

“Because the sword isn’t your weapon,” she said, her tone terse. “I can make you a half decent swordswoman, but you’ll never excel at it. You’re strong, and have decent reflexes and coordination, but the sword isn’t for you.”

Heat crept up my cheeks, and my heart beat fast as I fought to keep her cold gaze. She laid out the facts in a mechanical fashion, and I appreciated her blunt demeanor, but I couldn’t lie that it didn’t sting to hear.

I kicked at a pebble near my foot, tearing it from its home in the ground and sending it on a short journey to rest by a patch of grass.

“So what weapon is for me, then, if not the sword?”

Evelyn finally lost her frown. A slow smile spread from the corners of her mouth, and she bared her blindingly white teeth to me. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

A half dozen weapons later, and after a half dozen new cuts and bruises marred my pale skin, we’d finally found a weapon that suited me, according to Evelyn.

“Nice shot,” she said, after I fired my third arrow at the target stuck to the tree.

“Thank you,” I replied, blushing crimson.

Evelyn’s praise was just as off as her cold contempt, and like it, I didn’t know exactly what to make of it, but I was happy that she was pleased. After three hours of disappointing her, it was nice to succeed in her eyes.

She walked over, took the arrows out of the tree, and brought them back to me, holding them aloft. “That bow is the only one I had on hand. I’m surprised you can draw it back. It’s got a sixty-pound string on it—that’s not light for someone of your size.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“Just be careful with it. It’s made from the horn of a storm dragon, so it’s damn near priceless.”

Her brilliant eyes swept over my body and rested at my arms and shoulders. She walked behind me and placed her hands on the nape of my neck.

“Your form is off a tad, but that can be easily fixed.”

Her hands traveled down my skin, pushing or pulling my arms and shoulder blades. She lingered over my hips, and her warm fingers dug into my thighs as she twisted them into the proper position. I trembled under her touch, wishing in the back of my heart for her to keep lingering, to explore my flesh further.

A stiff breeze blew through the trees, chilling the beading sweat on my skin and causing me to shiver. It snapped me out of my reverie and back into the present.

Focus! I’m just wasting her time if I don’t pay attention to her lessons. Thankfully, she didn’t notice my lapse in concentration, as she was focused entirely on correcting my poor posture.

When she finally stood, she stepped back and looked me over. She smiled. Just a tad at the corner of her mouth, but it was unmistakable.

“Do you feel how your hips and feet are positioned, how precise your spine and shoulders are aligned?”

I focused on my body, tried to feel each individual muscle as I stood stock still and absorbed the difference in how I felt now versus my posture before. I was more grounded now. I had much better balance, and it felt good.

I nodded just slightly, not moving too much in case I slipped and put myself off balance. “I feel much more stable. It’s night and day compared to before.”

“Good. Now, draw back your bow.”

I did, focusing on all of my muscles. From my