CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Hive
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I awoke totally disoriented to the feel of something soft brushing back and forth across my flukes. From what I could gather with a quick look around, I was laying on one of several flat stone shelves carved in uniform rows into the outer walls of a stadium-sized underwater cave, the center portion full of purple and orange coral and several schools of fish. Natural light brightened the water, shining through a series of small holes cut through the rock in strategic positions, the cave obviously close enough to the surface for the sun’s rays to penetrate the sea water.
Being claimed had cost me my Goddess sight and severed my connection to the Syreni gods. I didn’t feel bound to Aristos any longer, either, as I couldn’t sense any of his emotions, but we’d never been so far apart. It was difficult to say if our souls had been severed by my conversion or if he was just out of range. Regardless, with the exception of my sisters, who served the same Fae queen I now did, and Vanessa, for whom I still felt strong maternal instincts, I no longer felt a strong emotional attachment to anyone I’d known as a human, a Syreni female, a priestess or Athena’s consort.
The Water Fae queen was scrubbing my tail with a pillow soft sponge, each stroke leaving behind a glistening black streak in its wake, the tinted water residue being sucked up through the porous ceiling four feet above my head by a powerful current. The room was a massive bath chamber. My formerly pink-and-red flukes were now solid black with tiny specks scattered like dust across them, refracting light much like her own skin.
Seeing that I was awake, she paused in her ministrations, turning her glowing red eyes on me with a genuine smile that warmed my heart. Welcome, nestling.
Where am I… my queen? Hopefully my attempt at a formal salutation and fully lowered head—which was as close as I could come to a bow with me lying on my back—would demonstrate the proper respect for the queen of the Water Fae even if that wasn’t the title she wanted me to use.
She lifted my chin from my chest with her clawed black fingers. Her feather light, pensive kiss allowed her to draw in just a taste of my life-energy as her tongue traced the outline of my gloss covered lips. My name is Willoe Chenterah. You will address me as your Hive Queen. You are inside one of our Fae hives, a vast honeycomb of caves that stretches from near the water’s surface to far below the sea floor. I’ve added a liberal amount of jennel root extract to your shealing oil along with some tica dust—the sparkling powder you see that is made from the ground up organs of a viper eel—so we can turn your skin a nice iridescent black like my own. The results will become as permanent as your lovely blackened lips and tongue in a couple of months, requiring only an occasional staining when the shimmer starts to dull. The concoction will strengthen your nails as well so you can grow them out into claws. When your hair finally starts to grow back from the purification ceremony you were forced to endure we’ll dye it the same crimson color as the rest of your Hive Mates.
Making you look more like us should help you feel less out of place while we wait for your full conversion, and will obliterate from your skin the offensive tattoos honoring the very gods that shunned us. I must say, for being my first time attempting such a mix, I’m quite pleased with the results. Your sisters could pass for Water Fae if it weren’t for their dull eyes, bald heads and their lack of wings.
She refilled the sponge with more of the modified shealing oil she extracted from a large pink-and-yellow shell with a cork stopper in the end and returned to her task of darkening my skin. Soon I’d no longer have to be reminded I hadn’t always been Fae—that I’d once been the Syreni queen—every time I caught a glimpse of my decorated forearms or my burgundy striped chest. All the markings given to me by gods I no longer worshipped would be concealed. My body would be one step closer to becoming as pure and committed to my new Fae life as my mind. Knowing my sisters had already undergone the drastic transformation made me even more eager to see them. Would it be possible for me to visit with Naome and Serienne once you finish with my bath? I’d like to say hi at least and assure them I’m okay.
Of course, Willoe replied, her eyes remaining focused on her work. When she finished with the front of my tail she slid the sponge higher into the folds of my sex, blackening my outer lips and the sensitive base of my retracted soulcras. It’s good the three of you share such a tight bond. It will serve you well as Hive Cell Mates. Your sisters have been insisting to speak with you from the moment their eyes opened early this morning. Your spirit is strong, my young nestling. I had to drain almost your entire life-force before your weakened soul finally succumbed to my will and was irrevocably bound to me along with your heart, your mind and your body, making you a member of the Fae. I’ll show you to the Hive Cell the three of you share as soon as we finish. Once you get settled in, we’ll introduce you to the Hive and provide you with your Fae names.
I couldn’t suppress my audible groan at the thought. New names? Again? I was just getting used to calling them Naome and Serienne. We’re going to need to wear name tags if this keeps up.
Willoe bopped the end of my nose rather than rolling her eyes as I was quite fond of doing, but she’d clearly appreciated my sarcastic rant. She resisted only a moment before she leaned in and kissed me again, this time drawing out enough of my energy with our prolonged, fiery embrace to make me have to fight to keep my eyes open. If I keep that up you’re going to be unconscious again. Hades help me, you have a certain magnetism to your aura that is rather addicting. I can’t seem to get enough of you.
Don’t stop on my account, I said with groggy smile, hoping that she’d kiss me again even though I knew I’d be returned to the dark oblivion I’d just awoken from. I lifted my arm from the table and ran my fingers through her flowing crimson hair pooled around my face before rubbing my thumb intimately along her cheek. Up close, I could see her eyes still had discernible pupils and irises; they were just concealed by the bright red glow.
Her lips quivered a torturous inch above my own as she worked the sponge into my already blackened sex, making my soulcras spring to life as I arched my back off the stone. Seizing the opportunity, she glided the sponge along the length of each of my glowing, ultrasensitive tentacles at a deliberate pace, dying them iridescent black as I writhed around beneath her on the edge of bursting apart. Only my utter exhaustion kept me from reaching the orgasm I so desperately craved. That will teach you, you little demon. Now behave before I lose all control and suck the very life out of you.
Yes, Hive Queen. In defiance of her obviously hollow ultimatum, I stole another kiss before she could back away, my electrically charged tongue sending sparks arching out into the water as I traced her lower lip, breaking contact only when my head fell back against the table on its own accord.
Either my high voltage kiss had finally eroded away her impressive self control, or, more likely, she’d decided to take mercy on me, granting me the release I was all but begging for. Too tired to even attempt to move, I just laid there while she used the sponge to caress my painfully swollen breasts, kneading my flesh, pinching and twisting my rock hard nipples through the porous fibers. Without any warning she plunged three clawed fingers deep inside me and began to rotate them around, her long nails scraping along the walls of my tight sheath while she flicked her thumb rapidly across my fully erect clit. My soulcras barely had time to fuse with her hand before my body ruptured apart. Our limited connection was still enough to allow us to experience my incredible orgasm together. Her expert fingers guided me through each of my aftershocks until my whole body went limp. With my last ounce of energy, I cracked my eyes open just wide enough to see the results of her having used her inked sponge as a sex toy. My chest shook beneath her hand with my laughter. It looks like I’ve been molested by a horny octopus.
My flirtatious banter elicited the most melodious laughter I’d ever heard, making me wish I was wittier just so I could hear sing more often. You are like a breath of spring-fed water
, my young hatchling. I haven’t felt this playful in hundreds of years. As for your duly noted complaint, I certainly can sympathize with you not wanting to change your names again so soon, but you can’t very well continue to be referred to by your Syreni names now that you are members of the Fae.
Fair enough, I conceded with a resigned sigh. My exaggerated exhale sent a billow of tiny water bubbles flowing out of my mouth. As she blackened my abdomen I thought about the lengths she was going to in order to make us look like her. I’d expected to wake up as a full blown Water Fae with glowing red eyes and my own set of scarlet wings. You mentioned our conversions earlier, Hive Queen. When will my sisters and I become Water Fae?
Willoe gave my hand she was currently using as a brace while she stained the inside of my left arm a squeeze. With two swift swipes of the sponge the image of the bearded god, Neptune, standing atop his hippocamp-powered chariot, was replaced with shimmering black skin, leaving behind only the burgundy tails of the beasts that snaked up my arm. In time, my hatchling.
As you can plainly see, natural born Water Fae females do not have soulcras, which is what enables the conversion. The last of the original Water Fae females, created back when our race first began by mourning Syreni females who’d lost their loved ones in the ascension trials— before their race learned the inevitable result of attempting to resurrect their dead—died off centuries ago. Much like inbreeding on earth, our species has grown weak over time as we make endless copies of our tainted genes. We need the intake of fresh DNA into our gene pool to survive and grow strong once again. The Syreni daughters you and your sisters produce in the coming decades will be transformed into first generation Water Fae as powerful as the original females.
Those we get to keep, anyway. The daughter currently growing inside your womb will be given to Bulrigaard as soon as she finishes breastfeeding. Given her lineage, it’s almost a certainty the gods will select her as the next Syreni queen when she’s taken to the cathedral in San Gria for her choosing ceremony. Should they fail to do so, on her eighteenth birthday—after she has completed her mating ceremony and become Bulrigaard’s compar—she will reveal that she is your long lost daughter and claim that she has a right to the throne by birth.
You and your sisters will be permitted to keep a child in exchange for each one that Bulrigaard claims. The moment you’re fertile again after each birth I will guide you to a secret location far from our hive to meet with him. He will initiate your wanting and impregnate you naturally, as must be done with all Syreni females, given that you need to desire the pregnancy to conceive. He’ll also provide us with the female embryos I’ll use to impregnate your sisters.
Once we have enough first generation Water Fae to ensure we can convert Syreni whenever the need arises—now and well into the future—as well as produce a sufficient number of second generation offspring each year, you and your sisters will be heralded as the saviors of our race in a massive celebration spanning several days before you are ultimately put to death. The moment your spirits pass on, your oldest daughters will reanimate your soulless bodies with their soulcras, completing your conversions into Water Fae. By then the Syreni should have more than enough fertile women to stave off their extinction as well, all of which will be under Bulrigaard’s control, giving him the absolute power he will need to ensure he becomes the next king.
I wasn’t sure which of her jaw dropping revelations was the hardest to accept. Learning we’d have to die and shed our souls in order to become Water Fae, my unborn daughter was destined to become the compar of a disgusting, immoral, weasel of a male, or that I was going to have to sleep with the pig-faced sloth every six months and give birth to his children. Just thinking about him pressing his leathery bearded face against mine as he stuck his tongue in my mouth made bile rise in the back of my throat. Why the Water Fae queen was bending over backwards to help the Syreni at all was beyond me, let alone Bulrigaard, of all people.
Hearing me fall silent, she stopped staining the gill covers on the left side of my neck and shifted her focus to my sullen face, placing a hand on my cheek to comfort me. I can tell by your almost green complexion that you enjoy Bulrigaard’s company about as much as I do. He is a creaton, to be sure, and is just as untrusting of me as I am of him. In spite of the unnecessary risk it poses to all of us, he demanded a meeting in two weeks so he can confirm you’ve all been successfully converted into Fae, see that you’re still pregnant and retrieve the jewels I removed from your bodies to give to his compar when she becomes the next queen.
But his lack of morals and quest for power has made him quite useful. He keeps our prisons well stocked with Syreni for us to siphon off life-energy from—who he chooses for his own gain, and passes off as cutterfish kills, I’m sure—in exchange for us leaving the rest of the Syreni alone and not calling attention to our growing numbers. His supposed success in eradicating the Fae in his region is what led to his promotion to general. The truce the hive has shared with his region has allowed our once decimated population to swell to numbers I haven’t seen in my very long lifetime. With Bulrigaard sitting on the Syreni throne, we’ll be able to extend the favorable terms of our truce to hives all across Teresolee.
We will still face grave danger even with the expanded accord in place. As I mentioned earlier, the children we sire grow weaker with each generation. We no longer have any true warriors of our own. And just like the Syreni females who spawned our race, we can only enchant human souls. Our magical abilities would be useless in a war. If Syreni forces ever found their way into our hive en masse, our rusting arsenal of weapons—left over from decades long gone by—wielded by untrained, physically inept civilians, wouldn’t allow us to mount any sort of defense. That’s why we keep the location so closely guarded, frequently changing the outside access points by collapsing the caves in case they’ve been discovered.
I’d wondered why I’d never heard of Water Fae abducting Syreni before. Given their alliance, Bulrigaard had clearly provided the required intel on the formal ball and helped to construct the tunnel that enabled our capture. If the king, Aristos, or anyone else on the ruling council discovered his treachery—with the exception of Lanipas, who had likely conspired with him even if I had no evidence of that—he’d be executed on the spot. Not that I’d say anything, of course. Now that I was a member of the Fae, part of me would always be grateful to Bulrigaard for having orchestrated our kidnapping, even if I’d never admit it to his face given how much I despised him. Extending the treaty we shared to the rest of our hives would go a long way toward protecting all of the Fae, but I shared my Hive Queens concern. I wasn’t at all comfortable placing our security solely in his hands. We needed an army of our own, capable of repelling a Syreni attack when the two-faced bastard inevitably betrayed us. I’ve been trained to fight, Hive Queen. I wanted to be able to help defend my young from griffin attacks during the week spent on the surface after their births. I was only in class a few weeks but I’m capable of taking down several Syreni at once, both with weapons and in hand-to-hand combat.
Bulrigaard has kept me well informed of your exploits, my brave warrior hatchling. I look forward to having you serve as General of the Hive Guard. You will be outfitted with the very best of our remaining weapons and armor and given complete autonomy over the selection and training of the Hive Guards who will serve under you. I must confess, when Bulrigaard first proposed our deal I thought it was preposterous. There was no way he’d ever go through with handing over the only fertile Syreni women to the queen of the Water Fae. Up until the very moment you welcomed my embrace and became Fae I was certain it was just an elaborate hoax, that he was drawing me further and further into his trap before he intervened at last possible moment, took credit for saving your life and eliminated all evidence of our past dealings by killing me. Honestly I never should have taken such a risk, venturing so close to Halon’s Gate with no guard or means of escape. The opportunity to turn you—the legendary Syreni queen who was born a h
uman female before being transformed by the gods—into my Fae hatchling was simply too great.
Of course we now know Bulrigaard was all too willing to hand you and your sisters over to me in order to clear the path for him to become the Syreni king, but don’t mistake his treachery for any lack of admiration. He is quite obsessed with you. That’s why he’s taking such extraordinary measures to ensure your daughter becomes the next queen even while his own child grows inside your sister’s womb. I’m sure he hopes Vanessa will remind him of you once she matures and becomes his mate. The same goes for the children the two of you will have together. I know you’re not looking forward to sleeping with him, but making sure your liaisons live up to his wildest fantasies will go a long way toward keeping him in line. Now sit up for me and close your eyes so I can rid your face of those ridiculous flowers.
When I complied, I felt her rub a much smaller sponge across my cheeks, my forehead and the rest of my face, paying special attention to the crevices inside my ears and the tiny creases around my nostrils. She was thorough in her work, ensuring there was no part of my face that wasn’t left a sparkling, iridescent black. After she finished with the top of my head she had me roll over onto my belly so she could do my backside. Is it true you killed a griffin with nothing but a dagger while you were still a human?
I let out a discordant mess of chirps and clicks as I recalled the ill-fated showdown. My pitiful laughter sounded nothing like the layered, rich harmony she was capable of composing. Does it count if my chest was pried open like a can of tuna in the process and I had my foot bitten off? I’d call it more of a draw.
Kerrigan's Race (The Syreni Book 1) Page 33
