Mated to the Warg (Wargs of the Outland, #1)

The Queen

More deep feminine laughter resounded through the walls of the hive. But if it unnerved Thrax, as it did Rowan, he didn't show it.

They were moving steadily along the fringe of the tunnel where the web roots were less concentrated. It felt like they were straying deeper into the mountain. Thrax was heading the way, but as the tunnel widened, he motioned for her to climb atop his back.

She was swift about it, her hands bunching in his mane. He was still in what he called berserker fettle. His jaws were something between wolf and man, his eyes blazing yellow. So bright, she was sure the glow of them would betray their position. But the boulders and rocks were plentiful and the shadows thick. She couldn't see the queen yet, or much of anything, really. Just rock and web and hair-like roots dangling from above. Hopefully that meant they, too, were as yet unseen. Though, Thrax had told her once the vishwa could see better in the dark than any creature.

Thrax bounded from one jutting rock to the next, avoiding the impossible web roots. Impossible unless you were a warg with long dagger claws to sheath into rocks. The broad muscles in his back tensed beneath her as he worked his way deeper into the hive, his long animal strides eating up the expanse of treacherous ground. The sound of pounding water hemorrhaged through the hive, concealing any noise they made. It was getting louder as they neared the source.

As the ground leveled out, opening up into a vast chamber, he hunkered low and crept from one large stalagmite to the next. This section must've once been a cave, she thought, climbing off his back. The hive had likely been extended and burrowed out from here. From the heart. She knew it was the heart, the prickling along her spine told her so.

A shriek of laughter boomed through the chamber, jolting Rowan. Carefully, she followed Thrax's lead and peered around the rocks, keeping her head low to the ground.

A rounded chamber emerged into view. The ceiling was arched high just like inside the Temple of Korgon, which sat in the very center of West Gate. The floor was a giant crescent that spread out before them. On the far side was a drop-off, but Rowan couldn't tell what lay beyond. Only the upper half of what looked like a strange, domed temple. Something like the top of an egg. And rumbling water. The sound of it was everywhere. In this chamber, especially, it sounded more violent.

From the vaulted cavern ceiling, strands of lethal vishwa silk hung like strange chandeliers. Dew glinted on the span of web like diamonds in the darkness.

To her eyes, it was a bright chamber—this eerie throne room—but to the humans cowering at the center of the crescent, she imagined the darkness was obliterating. They couldn't see the vishwa drones looming around them, and they couldn't see the queen in their midst.

No, that wasn't true. Meera could see. Unlike the two men, her eyes were focused on the queen, horror-struck. So Thresh had shared the night gift with her!

The vishwa queen was even larger than her soldier drones. Her face was alabaster, human-like. She had a head of sweeping black locks and a lithe white body. Her breasts were like moon globes, bare and full as though she was pregnant. But the rest of her chest was similar to her drones—more of a hard, slitted carapace than skin. She was oddly shaped, too, her thorax spindly. But there, the similarities with her drones ended. From her pinched little waist downward, her abdomen was bloated like a spider's. It tapered out into a blunt tail with black and red markings. There were strange wispy tendrils of silk hanging from her body like a dress of sheer white tassels. They dragged along the ground as she walked. Brushing over the web roots that spread like fungi across the floor.

When she laughed, her pincer mouth became a horror. She was laughing now, brushing a long teasing claw down Thresh's arm as though she was flirting with him.