Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Heir or the Enemy
The Queen straightened to her full height, towering over the battlefield.
Her shadow swallowed the chamber.
The soldiers froze mid-strike, as if an invisible hand had gripped them all. My link to them went dead — not broken, not blocked, just muted. I couldn't feel them anymore. It was like losing the beat of my own heart.
—Enough games.—
Her voice didn't just hit my mind this time — it bled into my bones. The floor thrummed under her feet. The air thickened until every breath scraped my lungs raw.
She stepped toward me, and the battlefield parted for her. Even the soldiers under my control drew back, antennae flattened.
I backed up until my shoulders hit the wall. My fingers tightened on the halberd.
She didn't hurry.
"You're testing me," I said, my voice cracking despite myself. "Why?"
She stopped just outside my reach. The golden light in her eyes deepened, molten turning to something older, heavier.
—Because you are the first in centuries who could take my place.—
My breath caught.
—Hiveborn are tools. Weapons. I break them, use them, discard them. But you…—
Her mandibles spread in a slow, deliberate curve.
—You could be more.—
A memory slammed into me — not mine. A battlefield of blackened resin and charred husks, the Hive screaming in unison as their Queen fell. Not this Queen — another, her carapace shattered, her crown split. And in the ruins, a young Hiveborn stood where the Queen had fallen, her eyes glowing gold.
Me.
Not me. Someone before me. But the same blood, the same mark.
The Queen's claws hovered inches from my face.
—Join me. Become my Heir. Rule the Hive with my voice in yours.—
"And if I say no?"
The heat in her gaze sharpened to a blade.
—Then I tear your mind from your skull and use your body to breed soldiers until the marrow dries.—
Silence pressed in, broken only by the drip of ichor from the ceiling.
I could feel the choice like a weight on my chest. If I said yes, I'd lose myself to her, but I'd live — maybe even rule. If I said no, I might die here… or worse.
But deep beneath the fear, something colder stirred.
A thought.
A plan.
I lowered the halberd. Her eyes narrowed in satisfaction.
—Wise.—
I stepped forward, until her breath washed over me, heavy with pheromones. I could feel her reaching into my mind again, threading her presence into the gaps, stitching us together. Her claws lifted, ready to mark me — the final seal between Queen and Heir.
And then I struck.
The halberd came up in a single vicious arc, driving the blade into the soft plate just under her jaw. It punched through chitin with a wet crack, sinking deep.
Her roar shattered the chamber. The soldiers convulsed, collapsing in unison. My mind filled with white static, then blackness.
When I blinked, she was still standing. The blade was still buried in her neck.
But she was smiling.
—Yes.— she whispered into my skull. —That's the strength I wanted.—
And then she vanished.
Not stepped away. Not fled. One heartbeat she was there, the next she was gone, leaving only the hum of the Hive returning, sharper and hungrier than before.
Vire stumbled toward me, blood streaking her face. "What happened? Did we win?"
I stared at the empty space where the Queen had stood.
"No," I said, my voice shaking. "She let me live."