Page 65 of The Hive Queen

Never, in all the centuries we’ve been together, have I told one of them to leave, and the ache of separation that spreads through me threatens to be my undoing.

How can everything have fallen apart so completely at a time when we all need to be together?

The floor rumbles as the garage door opens, and panic shoots through me. If Flint leaves now, how long will it be before I find him again? How will I know he’s safe?

I grab Sharpe’s arms, lifting my head to meet his worried gaze. “Go with him. Don’t let him be alone right now.”

He lifts me into a dining chair and smooths a hand over my hair. “Are you sure?”

At my nod, he releases me. “I’ll let you know once he’s settled.”

I hug myself, trying to hold together the pieces of my broken heart. “Thank you.”

Sharpe rushes to grab his jacket and shoes, then bolts out the front door to catch Flint at the top of the driveway before he leaves.

My eyes shift past the books Flint brought back from the Library to my phone sitting on the table, where the screen is lit with the estimated delivery window for our dinner.

A humorless laugh escapes. At least we won’t have to go grocery shopping for a few days.

Heavy footsteps come down the hall.

I turn my head toward the sound. “You can put your suitcase away. Flint left.”

Hot hands curl over my shoulders. “I heard.” Marc bends to wrap his arms around me from behind. “I’m sorry.”

I nod, my throat too tight for words.

He presses his lips to the top of my head. “This won’t break us permanently.”

But what if it does? The narrow line between love and hate can shift.

If Marc can’t move on...

If Flint can’t take responsibility for the harm done...

If I have to choose...

So many ifs, and no guarantees.

Marc’s hands slide down my arms before he steps around my chair to take the one beside me. “You know what will make both of us feel better?”

The tears in my eyes burn away. “Killing something.”

He cups my face, his thumbs sweeping under my eyes to wipe away the last traces of grief. “Killing something deadly that deserves to be destroyed.”

My focus shifts back to the books. “But we don’t have the Shard of Destiny.”

“What do we have?” He pulls the book with the drawing of the Hive Queen closer. “Let’s see what we’re up against.”

I grab the book Flint had been holding to see if it has more information about the Shard that we can use. Just because a magical weapon already exists doesn’t mean we can’t make more.

Marc whistles low under his breath. “Wow, this is pretty nasty.”

“Nastier in person.” I open to the page with the bookmark. “Flint almost ran aw—” My breath catches, and I push down a fresh wave of pain. “Men get twitchy around the crime scenes.”

Marc leans an elbow on the table. “Admit it. You’ve considered chopping off a dick or two over the years.”

“More than two.” I force a smile, hoping that if I do it enough, it will become real. “There have been a lot of men over the centuries who deserved a good chopping.”

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