Chapter Eighteen: The Hunt in the Hollow
The hum wasn't coming from the tunnels anymore.
It was inside the walls.
The man grabbed my wrist and pulled me backward. "She's in the stone," he whispered.
The stranger's jaw tightened. "She's lacing the Haven with live pheromone strands. She's rewriting the walls."
"How—" I started, but a sudden crack split the air, cutting me off. A fissure tore across the floor, spitting dust and glowing fragments.
From it, a hand emerged — skin marbled with chitin, nails black and hooked like a predator's claws. Vire pulled herself up slowly, like she was savoring the reveal.
She was almost beautiful, in a way that made my skin crawl: tall, lithe, eyes so dark they looked bottomless. Her movements were wrong, like each joint was double-hinged.
"Little Queen," she said again, voice smooth as wet stone. "You don't belong with these… rogues."
The stranger stepped forward, blocking her path. "You'll have to kill me first."
Vire smiled — but her mandibles clicked just behind her lips, a sound that made my teeth ache. "I planned to."
The walls began to close in. Thin strands of hardened resin shot from her fingertips, latching to the stone. The tunnel behind us sealed shut with a hiss.
We were trapped.
The man unsheathed his blade, the metal catching the faint bioluminescent glow. "We split her attention," he said quickly. "I take left, you take—"
Before he could finish, Vire moved.
Not ran — moved. One instant she was across the chamber, the next her face was inches from mine, her breath carrying a sharp, electric tang.
"I can smell the old code in you," she whispered. "The First Queen's heartbeat. Do you have any idea what it's worth?"