Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) by Grayson Sinclair (black authors fiction txt) 📕

be easy to remember,” he said as he unequipped his armor for equally flashy evening wear that didn’t belong in a bar.

He motioned to his group. “That’s Mikhail, Wolf, and Slip,” he said, pointing at his group.

Mikhail was shorter than Darren by a hair. Wearing heavy studded leather armor, he had light brown hair shaved close to his scalp, deep-set eyes, and a broad chin. He wielded a halberd, which was smart outdoors but a poor indoor weapon.

Wolf was an enigma to me. Long, raven-black hair tied into a ponytail. He had narrow eyes and gaunt features, like a starving animal, along with a calm grace about himself. Rather thin but lithe, and he bore no weapons which put me on edge since it made him either a mage or a monk. His leather armor spoke to the monk class, but he didn’t have a caestus or gauntlets. I don’t like that I can’t classify him. That annoys the hell out of me.

The final member of the party was the rogue of the bunch. Light blonde hair and even lighter blue eyes. A black cloth mask covered half his face, and he bore an array of knives scattered throughout his black leather armor and had a bow strapped to his back. A split class archer/rogue. A dangerous combination, but a tricky one to pull off.

I was intrigued by his name. “Why do they call you Slip?” I asked.

“Because I can slip in and out before anyone knows I’m there,” Slip said boisterously.

The group roared with laughter as if that was the first time they had ever heard the joke. I joined in with a chuckle. It was kind of funny.

Eris jolted up and took hold of my mug, trying to get another sip of ale. Her flushed faces and jerky movements told me she was teetering on the edge, and I took the glass from her. She frowned at me when I cut her off. “I think you’ve had enough for now,” I told her with a smile.

She stopped frowning at me, still wearing a pout, but her eyes told me she wasn’t upset. Our little encounter did not go unnoticed by Darren, who perked up when he realized Eris was sitting next to me. Darren’s eyes traveled down Eris’s frame to stare longingly at her pale thighs and legs.

“And who might this delicious-looking thing be?” Darren asked with lust in his mouth.

Eris chose that moment to drunkenly shoot up from her seat and loudly proclaim to Darren’s party. “Hi, I’m Eris!”

When Eris stood up so suddenly, her hood fell from her head, revealing her compounded eyes and long ears.

Darren sucked in a breath at the sight of her, not from fear. No, his gasp came from a much darker place. The sound of their leader inhaling caught the rest of the group’s attention. They all looked up to see Eris, bold as you can be, without a care in the world.

“She—she’s a demi-human,” Darren said.

I quickly grabbed Eris and pulled her to her seat, amid a torrent of slurred protests, pulling her hood back over her, and went back to facing Darren.

“Yes, she is. Is that a problem?” I asked with steel in my voice.

Darren quickly shook his head. His eyes held nearly unrestrained excitement in them. “No...no, not at all. Not at all.”

Darren smiled wide at me, a wicked, devious thing, which sent shivers to crawl over my skin like ants.

He leaned over to whisper to me. “How much?”

I stared him down. “Excuse me?”

“Do you know how rare demi-humans are?” Darren asked, “I’ve seen plenty over the years, but never one like her.”

Darren was practically leaning over me at this point.

“I’ll give you ten thousand gold for her right now.”

He was right about one thing. Demi-humans were rare, and nobles paid handsomely for them. Actual fortunes for rabbitmen and wolfmen, not to mention the fae. His offer was enough to set a commoner up for life. It was nothing to me. No amount of money would be enough to hand her over.

I scoffed at him. “So, you’re slavers?”

If he was willing to shell out that much gold for her, I bet he had a client who paid well for demis like Eris. No way he would drop that much coin just for a lay. Though Eris was unique, I could see why he was so desperate.

It was Darren’s turn to scoff. “I wouldn’t call us slavers; we’re simply merchants who specialize in select merchandise," he equivocated.

“So...slavers.”

He slammed his fist on the table, knocking over one of the empty glasses of ale and sloshing the nearly full one. I quickly glanced around the room. The rest of the patrons were painfully oblivious to the exchange between Darren and me. Even Ruff was busy pretending to wash a glass, though I saw him glance our way.

“Look, my employer pays handsomely for rare creatures and artifacts. I know he would pay whatever you wanted for her. So why don’t we be gentlemen about this and work out a deal.”

“No. She’s not for sale. Not now, not ever, and you’ve ruined what was a pleasant evening, so we’re leaving.”

I stood up, just as Darren lunged forward and grabbed the collar of my shirt, anger clear across his face. Here was a man not used to being denied.

“I refuse to walk away from this, not when we could make enough money to live like kings in the Noble District. So, hand her over before I lose my temper.”

“Bad move.”

Before he could blink, I took hold of his arm that was currently gripping my shirt, stopping him from going anywhere. I pulled him off balance, grabbed the empty mug of ale from the table, and smashed it into his face.

Shards of glass and blood flew into the air,