Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Mark Beneath the Skin
The battle didn't end.
It just… unraveled.
One moment, the Hive's soldiers were tearing into each other, resin walls groaning under their weight, the air heavy with the sharp, metallic scent of pheromones. The next, everything froze.
Not a slow pause. Not exhaustion.
Stillness — like every muscle had been tied to the same invisible string.
Mandibles twitched. Antennae lifted, trembling in unison as if catching a sound pitched too high for human ears. I couldn't hear it, but I could feel it, low and deep in my bones.
And then, without warning, they turned away.
No retreat signal I could see. No glance over their shoulders.
Just gone, vanishing back into the black veins of the Hive.
Vire limped toward me, her face pale under the streaks of dust and blood. Her armor was cracked, resin plates split like broken glass. "They're leaving," she breathed.
I didn't answer. My eyes stayed fixed on the far end of the chamber, where the Queen had disappeared into the dark.
The silence she left behind wasn't really silence.
It was her.
A faint hum curled through my skull, soft but insistent — not quite a sound, not quite a thought. It throbbed in time with my heartbeat, steady and patient, like a second rhythm overlaid on my own.
Vire followed my gaze. "She's still alive, isn't she?"
I swallowed hard. "Yeah."
We made our way toward the exit, picking through the wreckage. The resin walls felt different now, alive somehow. As we passed, the grooves in the surface shifted, widening and narrowing — like the Hive itself was making space for me.
Halfway up the ramp, I felt it again.
That pulse.
Only this time, it wasn't just there.
It answered.
I froze mid-step. My breath caught in my throat. "No…"
Vire stopped. "What is it?"
Without thinking, I lifted my hand — palm out, fingers curling in the same motion I'd used to command Hive soldiers before.
Something deep below us stirred.
It was faint, like a ripple in dark water. But it was there.
And it didn't come from me.
It came from her.
She had left something inside me. Not a wound. Not a scar. A thread.
The same kind of thread she used to pull her Hive together — now tied to my bones.
A chill spread through me, slow and cold, as I realized this wasn't a gift. This was a tether.
When we broke through to the surface, the night air felt sharp, almost thin. The forest stretched around us in stillness. No crickets. No rustling leaves. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Vire sank onto a fallen log, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "If she's still out there, she'll come back for you."
I stared down at my hand. The faint golden light under my skin had almost faded, but the connection thrummed on, bright and unshakable.
"No," I said slowly. "She doesn't need to."
Vire frowned. "Why?"
I looked up at her.
"Because she's already here."
And in the quiet that followed, the Queen's voice slid into my thoughts — warm, patient, and terrifyingly sure.
—Grow strong, little one. When the Hive bows to you, I will return.—