Hive Queen by Sinclair, Grayson (ereader iphone .TXT) 📗

His bed was carved form the same wood mine was, though he’d requested a queen, rather than a king, and his wasn’t a poster bed.

The sun hung high in the sky, and I squirmed again in my seat after another few minutes of silence. Why is it a sword wound bothers me less than a handful of tiny needle pricks? “It’s not that it hurts, jackass. It’s just uncomfortable.”

He scoffed and switched needles, changing to one dipped in a soft white ink. “Well, you’re the one who insisted you had to have a tattoo. Now, seriously. Don’t make me restrain you. I swear, I’ve tattooed eighteen-year-old kids who took it better than you.”

I laughed, and his hard expression softened.

“I know you don’t like sitting still, Dur─Sam. But if you keep fidgeting, you’ll make me slip, and trust me, you don’t want to have a permanent testament to your inability to sit in a chair for a few hours like a normal human, do you?”

I held up my right hand, still not used to the color. “You forget. I’m not human anymore.”

Wilson sighed and put down the needle, dabbing at my bleeding flesh with a white cloth. He held it up, the blood a pale reddish orange. “How can I forget when your blood is this color? I just hope Adam comes back soon.”

“It’s only been a week since Evelyn died. We all know what he’s going through. He just needs time to process.”

He looked up at the picture of the woman on the wall and sighed.

“Yeah, I know.” Wilson shook his head and picked up the needle again. “Though why you decided to get a row of jasmine as your first tattoo is something I don’t get.”

I titled to look at them. The outline of six jasmine flowers attached to a stemmed rose from my bicep to my shoulder, with a few petals falling away toward my chest. It was beautiful, even though it was only half finished.

“To remember her by. Jasmine deserves to be remembered by someone other than her mother, and I made a promise to never forget her.”

“I understand that, I do,” he said between hammering. “But why her? Why not get a tattoo to remember Evelyn, someone you’ve known for years rather than getting one for a girl you knew for a few days?”

I held my hand up again and turned my palm to face me. I ran my thumb over the rough callouses that had formed over nearly two decades. I stared at the silver-white scar on the center of my palm and closed my fist. “I don’t need a tattoo to remember Evelyn. I remember her every time I wield a sword. She’s with me every time I face an enemy, and she’ll be with me when I run my sword through Magnus’s chest.”

“And how are we supposed to go about this?”

I shrugged my shoulders and winced when Wilson picked up a clean needle and jammed it an inch deep into my forearm.

“Ow!”

“Sit still,” he warned me again as he pulled the bloody needle free.

“Okay, by the nine kings of hell, I got it,” I said and proceeded to imitate a statue as he finished working on the tattoo, “but to answer your question, I haven’t the slightest clue as to how I’m supposed to go about doing this.”

He snorted. “Well, it’s just our lives on the line, no big deal. Seriously, though. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“Only after you’ve told me how wrong I am at least a dozen times before I figure it out.”

“Which is exactly why I know you’ll figure it out. With me backing you, you can’t possibly lose,” he said and bumped my arm with his.

We didn’t speak after that, and another hour and a half, and he’d finished his art.

“Some of my best work,” he said and slapped my shoulder.

It stung, but I shook it off and stood from the leather chair. I looked at my ink and had to admit, it was spectacular. “Thank you, Wilson,” I said, holding out my hand.

He came over and pulled me into a quick hug before he stepped back and brushed his hands over his well-tailored vest. “Think nothing of it.”

He handed me a jar of ointment and told me to apply it several times a day for the next two weeks, and I promised him that I would.

I thanked him again and left his room, heading back to mine.

The silence of an empty room met me as I opened the door and stepped inside. Raven and Eris must still be training.

As proud as I was of both of them, it was practically all they’d been doing since we’d gotten back. They trained with Reina and Yumiko most days, but I’d seen Gil slinking in a couple times to help them work on their combat skills. Since without Evelyn, I was the best hand to hand fighter in the guild, I trained Raven and Eris on close quarters combat, but neither of them fought with a sword, so I left their weapons training to those much more qualified to teach them than I.

Sitting in that chair for nearly two hours had made me restless, but Wilson had advised against taking a bath right after, telling me to wait until at least the morning, but as long as I didn’t get my shoulder wet, I didn’t think it would be an issue.

I went to the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind me. I dropped out of my linen trousers, but before I went and got in the bath, I went to the mirror, and like I’d done every time I was in front of a reflective surface, I stared at myself. At my golden eyes and