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

I ignored most of the looks we got as we passed by, none of them hostile, merely curious. But eyes were eyes, and the less on us the better. So, with a groan that slipped from my throat and gritted teeth, I slid my arm through Raven’s and wound my fingers through hers.

She jumped with mild surprise at my touch and stopped walking. She stared up at me in confusion.

“We need to give everyone a reason why we’re here. A couple on a stroll is much less suspicious than two humans walking with a purpose.”

Raven smiled showing me her pearlescent teeth. “Told you so, husband,” she replied cheekily before getting closer to me.

I tried to ignore her smile as we walked, tried to ignore how smooth and soft her fingers were around mine. The way her shoulders rose and fell with each languid breath. She was damned annoying when I paid attention to her.

She wasn’t who I’d made her out to be in my head, and I couldn’t even fall back on the fact that she was a shifter anymore. Not when I knew why she’d made the deal.

“Just don’t forget why we’re here. This isn’t a date.”

“I’m well aware, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves at least a little, right?”

“Guess not.” I shrugged.

“Good,” she said, pulling me along with a smile. “Then let’s get going!”

The path up to the Iron Cathedral was sequestered away from the main road that led to the shopping and residential districts. We went through a gate that opened to a singular path that led to the cathedral. It was a bit of a hike as we climbed about a thousand steps, but at the top stood the Iron Cathedral.

It was the single most elegantly designed building I’d ever seen; it put both mine and Magnus’s castles to shame in the quality of the stonework and design. Pristine white stone rose to two towering spires on either side of the basilica. Heavy buttresses ran from the spires to the main body of the church like fingers of a god digging into the stone blocks. High above us, stained glass sparkled from the radiant light of the mana crystal. Emerald green motes of light danced across the façade.

“It’s breathtaking,” Raven said.

I could only nod. “Without a doubt, it’s a gorgeous place, disconnected from mortality. Almost a shame what we have to do.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I agree, but neither of us have a choice here.”

“We always have a choice.”

With those words, we stopped staring at the beauty of the architecture and went inside. The door was comprised of solid stone only a hair’s shade off color from the rest of the stone. Nearly a hundred polished emeralds were embedded around the door. It opened at our approach and our footsteps on the stone lip of the frame echoed for a second before our feet hit the plush carpeted green rug that ran the length of the entryway.

Ribbed vaulting ran the entirety of the hall’s ceiling until it widened at the center of the cathedral. Where Lachrymal’s Heart resided.

Even from the entrance, the lingering foreboding that slithered over my shoulders was amplified by the mere presence of the Heart. Its insidious whispering and high-pitched tone were barely audible from where we stood, but they were still present, sending shivers up my spine.

“Gods, what’s that feeling? I don’t like it,” Raven said, crossing her arms and rubbing them.

“That’s what divinity feels like. Just ignore it for now. The more you think about it, the worse it gets.”

“Why?”

“We’re in the presence of something not meant for mortals, and especially not meant for human mortals. The dwarves have an innate tolerance; we’re not so lucky,” I said, lowering my voice.

We weren’t alone here. There were several priests tending the church and the parishioners, and that wasn’t counting Lachrymal’s Chosen.

The stoic-faced guards were all clad in shadowsteel armor with a single large emerald in the center of their chests, right over their hearts. Each carried their own preference of weapons, swords, axe, and even a few maces. Each would be a master of their weapon, having fought for dozens of years, maybe even a full century before they were allowed the honor of serving Lachrymal.

I started walking through the nave that led to the Vault of Tears, the resting place of Lachrymal’s Heart. Raven stopped glancing around and caught up to me a few steps later.

“I don’t like this place. We shouldn’t be here,” she said, her hand going to mine for comfort.

I gave her fingers a squeeze. “You’re right, but we have to. I told you, don’t think about it too much. You’re letting it get to you.”

She jerked head, breathing in and out deeply, but her heartbeat pressed through her fingertips and beat fast against my own rising drum. Take your own advice—get out of your head about this.

“As thanks.”

Before I could ask the Aspect what it meant, a chill seeped from my heart to my head. it wasn’t like before when it took control of my body, but it was a soft breeze that settled my turbulent emotions and brought rationality to my thoughts.

My heart settled, and I wasn’t concerned by the tonal screeching that had been steadily rising as we got closer to the vault. The cold, logical side of the Aspect bled through my mind, and I picked up the pace, nearly dragging Raven along behind me.

Though we had to stop as we reached the vault. The door was similar to the entrance of the cathedral, but the emeralds formed a teardrop in the center. Flanked on either side of the door were two of Lachrymal’s Chosen. Standing at four foot nothing, they still radiated the calm