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

of all types raised menacingly close to our faces. I tried my best to ignore the guards and focus on the room.

It was tall and winding; staircases rose on either side of the room to spiral off higher and higher to the many other floors. The walls were smooth and glossy as if they’d been waxed. As we walked toward the throne, we passed a library. Books written on mashed leaves and bound in tree bark lined the walls on either side of me, rising to the other floors.

I wonder what they say? There’s so much history that’s been lost. I wonder if those books hold the answers.

The throne room was small and thin. It was basically a walkway wide enough to let supplicants come and speak to their queen. Wooden stairs at the end rose up to a dais, and on an elegantly carved wooden throne sat the queen of the Arachne.

She was stunning. So stunning that my breath caught in my chest for a split second before I remembered how to breathe. She wore a similar style of dress as her warriors, a slim fitting black shirt that left most of her upper chest and neck exposed, and pants that hugged her slender body.

Her pure white hair draped like silk over her tawny neck and collarbone. Her skin was rich enough that it looked like it should melt in the sunlight cascading through the windows, and her face was gorgeous, yet softer than I was expecting.

Her ears, like the rest of the Arachne race, were long, but not as long as mine and slightly curved as the tips pulled back toward the base of her head. She had a thin, kind face that should have been laughing with joy but instead stared us down with cool, detached eyes that sent shivers up my spine.

Eyes that marked her as the Widow of the Arachne, their queen.

They were pitch black, almost like mine, but where mine were compounded, hers were smooth. In the center of each eye was a small red hourglass that formed her iris.

She leaned back in her chair, a slender hand under her chin in thought as her unblinking gaze welcomed us to her castle. Her sight flicked over each of us until she finally landed on me.

“An entomancer,” she said, forgoing her native tongue for our benefit.

Her voice was husky and rich as she spoke, holding both bitterness and a subtle sweetness as it slithered into my ears. She had an intoxicating voice.

She clicked her tongue sharply against her teeth. “Just my luck to have to deal with another one in my lifetime.”

Her words shocked me, and whatever else had been running through my mind at the time was blown away as a single thought shattered my world.

Another one? Another one!

Without thinking, I broke free from the group and ran the distance between me and the queen. I hit the steps at a jog and only managed to slow myself as I reached the throne. “There’s another entomancer? Where are they? When did you see them? Please tell me!” I shouted, getting right in her face.

In my excitement and lapse in sanity, I didn’t realize the overwhelming error I’d made, and a dozen Arachne warriors appeared from the shadows and were next us in an instant. The commander held a thin-bladed dagger to my throat, and if I so much as turned my head, I’d likely lose it.

The queen held up her hand. “It’s fine. Thank you, Elra. But I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Elra removed the dagger from my neck and bowed low; immediately, all the warriors vanished as swiftly as they’d arrived.

She smiled at my eagerness and shifted in her chair, crossing her legs and leaning on the armrest. “My name is Reinaera, but I prefer Reina. Now tell me who you are, entomancer.”

I gulped, suddenly nervous as I stared back at Reina. “My name is Eris. I’m the Hive Queen, and up until a few seconds ago, I thought I was the last entomancer left alive on Telae—or Nexus, rather.”

At that, Reina titled her head back and laughed, a throaty laugh that filled the room with music. She came back up still chuckling and smiled at me. “You almost had me there. Eris, was it? But you are not the Hive Queen. I’ve met the queen.”

“What?” I asked aghast, taking a step back. “The other entomancer is a girl?” I shook my head. Doesn’t matter right now, stop fixating on that. “That’s impossible. My mother was the last queen of the Hive, and when she died, the mantle transferred to me. I am the queen.”

Reina stropped smirking and tapped her finger on her chin. “Your words ring of conviction, but I’ve met Aliria, the true queen, and so you must be deluding yourself.”

“Aliria?” I asked.

“Yes. You don’t look all that different to me, but she is the queen, not you.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve never heard of her, but I’m not lying.”

“That’s no concern of mine,” Reina said, rising from her throne.

Her attached spider limbs uncoiled themselves from around her waist where they’d been blending in with the dark fabric. Four thin, black limbs protruded from Reina’s spine, each of them five and half feet long, ending in a tapered point which concealed two sharp pincers. Reina used them to push off from the chair as she stood, her spider legs suspended in the air by her waist.

The others recoiled and gasped when they noticed, and I didn’t blame them. They hadn’t seen them before because most of the Arachne kept them concealed or covered. Reina was disregarding tradition by leaving hers out in the open.

She came to stand before me. Reina was taller than me by half a head, and that, coupled with her standing on the wooden steps,