Page 110 of The Hive Queen

The lock on my left wrist clicks open, and I rub the raw flesh beneath before reaching for the rod still in my shoulder and pulling it out. Blood pumps from the gaping holes in my body. I’ll bleed out if I don’t stop it, but death means nothing here.

No, what matters is the box beneath the grate.

As soon as the shackle on my left ankle falls away, I crawl to the side, taking my weight from that section of grate, and curl my fingers through it. “Help me lift this. My touchstone… I can’t leave it here.”

Marceau and Flint go to the other side to grasp the grate, and together, we heave the heavy piece of metal to the side.

As soon as the opening is wide enough, I release my end and lunge forward to grab the box and rip it open.

For a moment, I stare without comprehension at the empty interior before a broken laugh escapes. Of course, Lady Casira wouldn’t leave my touchstone so close to me. It was just another level of torture, giving me hope that if I tried hard enough, I could win freedom for myself.

Did she watch during the times I thought I was alone while I mutilated myself, trying to get to this stupid box? Did she delight in my torment, knowing that even if I succeeded, it wouldn’t matter?

Enraged, I throw the box away.

Marceau walks around the hole in the floor to drop to his knees beside me. “We’ll get your touchstone, I promise, but we need to stop the bleeding first.”

My gaze shifts to the glowing forge, and a shudder goes through me.

Marceau’s hand on my cheek draws my focus back to him. “No. Not that.”

Flint joins us. “I can undo the spell blocking your magic, then you can heal yourself.”

Logic demands we leave now that I’m free and worry about the rest of it later. But if I die in the escape, I’ll just be drawn back here.

I nod. “Do whatever you need to do.”

He pulls out a pocketknife. “It’s going to hurt.”

“Just do it,” I grit out.

Sympathy fills his expression. “Try to hold still.”

With painstaking care, Flint traces the symbols on my skin with his knife, working from the outermost point and moving inward. The slice of his sharp blade stings, but it’s nothing compared to the tearing sensation at my core that feels like hooks being ripped out of my very being.

Each release burns at my insides as my fire slowly escapes the cage that imprisoned it until Flint reaches the center of the last symbol, and my fires blaze forth.

As my flesh heats, the cuts in my skin burn away and the holes in my shoulders melt closed. Power surges through my body, strength returning to my limbs.

A quiet crackle comes from Marceau, and he pulls a walkie-talkie from his belt, pressing the button on the side. “We have Darius.”

“The court has exonerated him,” Sharpe responds. “All charges have been dropped, and Pen got him some kind of boon for his service during the war. They’re sending someone to bring him up.”

Stunned, I stare at the radio as the words sink in. Free? And with a boon that will give me anything I desire?

“We’ll bring him up ourselves. See you soon.” Marceau clips the little radio back to his belt and turns to me. “You’re free.”

“Not quite.” With my senses fully returned, I catch the quiet footfalls of Lady Casira returning, and the need for vengeance sweeps through me.

I have a boon that will give me my deepest desire, and I aim to cash it in before we leave here.

The woman walks into view, and her eyes widen a fraction to find me free, with Flint and Marceau at my side.

Then her chin lifts. “So, you’ve heard that you’re free to leave?”

I rise to my feet. “I have.”

Marceau retrieves the cane he was carrying earlier. “Is that the one who hurt you?”

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