Page 67 of The Hive Queen

Flint’s possessiveness over this particular book makes sense now. He didn’t want Marc to see this part, because it only drives home how much Darius’s loss cost us.

But it’s also a sign that Flintisaware, on some level, of the reason Marc is hurting, or he wouldn’t have cared if he saw this passage.

My fingers must tighten on Marc’s hand because he glances over, his gaze focusing on me. “What? Did you find something good?”

“No, not good.” I angle the book toward him. “Darius has fought the Hive Queen before.”

Marc’s eyes close, and he takes a deep breath before letting it out and looking at the book again. “That’s not a bad thing.”

My brows lift. “It’s not?”

He shakes his head. “You don’t remember Darius fighting the Hive Queen, and it was after he contracted under Lord Talkis, which means it was in his early days as a court guard.”

Excitement pings through me. “Which gives us a narrow window of time for when she was last active.”

He nods. “Lord Talkis, or someone near him, will remember. We just have to figure out who we can ask.”

I release his hand to snatch up my phone. “I can ask Lord Marius.”

Marc frowns. “Are you sure you want to open that door?”

My fingers freeze over my screen, and uncertainty fills me. “What would you say if I wanted to reconcile with my sire?”

A finger under my chin lifts my head, and I see nothing but acceptance in Marc’s warm gaze. “I forgave your sire not long after I forgave Darius. Our sacrifice was going to happen the moment the court decided on it. After a while, I stopped being resentful about it.”

Tension eases from my body. “Thank you.”

Marc’s lips quirk. “And if Lord Marius hurts any of us again, we can just kill him.”

“True.” I smile back before opening my email. “We can more than cover the blood cost.”

A knock sounds on the door, and Darius stands. “I’ll get the food while you contact your sire and arrange a meeting.”

My fingers move over the screen, pulling up the email thread I have going with Lord Marius. “Don’t dump out Sharpe’s soup.”

“No promises!” He strides toward the door, his steps lighter than they were before.

It felt good to finally talk to Marc about Darius, and honoring his life will be another step. I have to believe that Flint will come around and that the rift between him and Marc can be healed.

We just have to get through this rough patch. Then we can focus on making our family whole again.

night rides

- Flint -

My grip tightenson the steering wheel, and I dart a look at Sharpe, who sits in the passenger seat of the van.

When he’d stood in the middle of the driveway in his socks, refusing to move until I let him in, I figured he’d be giving me an earful.

But now we’re almost to the heart of Clearhelm and not a peep from him.

The light ahead turns red, and I break harder than necessary. “Just spit it out already.”

Sharpe’s head turns toward me. “What do you want me to say?”

I wring the steering wheel. “Aren’t you the one who wanted to come along?”

He shifts and settles his shoulder against the door. “Can we hit up a drive-thru? And are there any aspirin in here?”

---