20. Polina

POLINA

I fly as fast as my wings can carry me. Just moments ago, I was in Calvin's arms, and I was the happiest fae in the world. And now the man I've come to care for has been cruelly ripped away and is tumbling to his death. No, absolutely not. This is unfair. It's bad enough that my kingdom has been invaded by yellowjackets thanks to an alleged coup, but now this?

By the sun, it's too much.

I fold my wings flush against my back and allow myself to nose dive toward the ground. Calvin screams my name and reaches out for me as his glasses fall from his face. His look of pure terror rends my heart in half, and all at once, I can see the future he and I were supposed to have, snatched away by a stupid gust of wind. He and I ruling the hive together. Calvin practicing his swordsmanship with Ser Beatrix in the training grounds. Calvin and I taking mid-afternoon flights to get away from our royal duties. Making love in a bed—an actual bed—with luxurious blankets and pillows, instead of hiding away in dark corners.

And then, by some miracle, I catch up to him. In those seconds between life or death, the sun smiles down on my vision and allows me to grab my love's hand.

I pull him against my body, locking him in place with my four arms. Then I unfurl my wings and implore them to carry us to safety.

We pull up a mere second before we hit the dirt, but I overcorrect and launch us into one of the nearby poppy stems. We crash against the flower, then topple to the ground.

Ow.

"Po? Po!" Calvin is on top of my body, shaking me. I open my eyes and wince. Even my eyelids hurt. "Are you okay? Oh, Sunshine. Is anything broken?"

"Just my pride, I think," I mumble.

When I try sitting up, Calvin pushes me back down and shakes his head. "No, give yourself a minute. That was incredible, but I want to check to see if anything is broken or … or out of place, first," he says.

Ooh. I kind of like this bossy, take-charge Calvin. I'm used to my Aunt Elza trying to order me around, but this is different. This is … this is kind of hot. Too bad I'm in no shape to act upon my sudden lustful feelings. But I'm lucky to be alive right now, with the stunt I just pulled. You win some, you lose some, as Ser Beatrix once told me.

I loosen my grip on Calvin's slender frame and allow him to slide off me. He's not hurt. He is still alive and well and not hurt at all. I did it. I actually did it! I've never had to fly like that before, and hopefully there won't be a repeat performance … but I did this.

Not Ser Beatrix. Not Aunt Elza. Me.

"Looks like your antenna is a little … lopsided," he says as he gingerly runs his fingers across it. The sensitive hairs on my antennae tingle from his touch.

"That's okay. It'll go back eventually," I say.

Calvin helps me sit up and runs a hand across my back. "That was so stupid of you, Po. You could have died."

I look up at him and frown. "Yes. But had I done nothing, then you would have died."

His gaze softens, and he leans down to peck a kiss on my head between my antennae. "You stupid girl. My Sunshine. Thank you."

I beam at the nickname, then look away once I realize I'm blushing. "It—it was nothing. Really. We bee fae are masters of flight, after all."

A few minutes later, I'm finally standing and brushing dirt off my dress. Doing daring acrobatics in the air demands a different outfit than fleeing a hostile takeover, I believe. An outfit I do not even own. Perhaps once I'm back at the hive and set things to rights, I will have the royal tailors create new garments for me. Pants, perhaps?

"Now what?" Calvin asks as he looks around. He rubs the back of his neck, which I now understand means he is nervous and uncertain. An adorable tick of his, but I wish he were a little more confident in his own abilities. "Do we … fly back up? Are your wings okay?"

I look over my shoulder as I beat my wings. They still work, but they're quite sore from the tumble. "I think I need to rest a little while longer. Don't worry. It won't be long now until my knights find us, anyway. And then we can figure out a plan for taking back the colony."

Calvin gives me a sidelong look as he hooks his thumbs in his pants pockets. "Po … about that."

"Hm?" I brush a few pebbles off my silken fur and sigh. What I wouldn't give for a bath right now.

"What if they … aren't coming?" Calvin winces, but I plant two of my arms on my sides and laugh.

"They're coming, Cal! Give them time. I have the utmost faith in Ser Beatrix. I'm not quite sure about Sylvie, yet, but if Ser Beatrix believes in her, then I will, too."

He continues to stare at me. Now I'm just annoyed that he would question my knights this way. They won't fail. They can't. It isn't an option.

"Oh, Cal. I understand," I say as I close the distance between us and pat him on the arm. "You're still our Caretaker, after all. And not being able to make the problem vanish on your own must have your nerves frayed." I brush a strand of hair from his eyes, then caress his cheek. The stubble along his jaw is coming in nicely. I like him better with a little fur. "But let us take care of our own troubles this time. You'll see that we are more than capable of handling our own affairs."

"It's not that, Po, but?—"

I shake my head. "Cal, please. You worry needlessly for them. They're fine! They were winning when we left."

He gives me that look again. The one I've come to seriously dislike, when his eyes soften and his lips tremble. Pity. It makes the fur on my arms stand on end and my stomach clench. It makes me want to … it makes me want to run away and hide. I can't stand that look. Not from him.

"Listen," I say, sighing. "If it makes you feel any better … if they don't come by midnight, I will fly back to the hive and check on it myself."

"That's too dangerous," he murmurs.

"Yes. Yes, it is. But so is being a lone bee in the wilderness, wouldn't you say? Now, let us find somewhere to rest, shall we?"

"What about the other hive? The one your … your friend came from," he says.

Evie. The memory of her dead body strewn across the floor makes my teeth hurt. We'd been friends since I crawled out of my brood cell. I will need to tell her hive what happened, of course. But right now, I have to think about my own people. All those drones and foragers. They couldn't have been in on the coup. They were tireless workers who only sought to serve the hive. And they definitely did not deserve to die the way they did.

"It's too far," I say as my hands, all four of them, tremble. "I can't make the flight in my current condition."

"But after you've rested, we could—" He takes a few steps toward me.

I whirl around. "No. Cal. We will go back to the hive, and I will find my majordomo, and I will set everything right with her. Perhaps this has all just been a grave misunderstanding. Maybe she didn't intend for the yellowjackets to attack, after all. But we'll never know unless I talk to her."

He opens his mouth to argue, but I shoot him a look that says I'm not in the mood to hear it.

Cal doesn't say anything as he follows me. He remains a couple of steps behind me as he constantly scans the area for any potential threats. I love how seriously he takes his Caretaker role. That is something the two of us have in common. We both care about our roles in society so much that we can't shut it off. Not entirely.

But down here in the flower field, it's all dirt, rocks, and a thick forest of verdant stems as far as the eye can see. Occasionally, a common black garden ant trudges past us. These ones aren't fae, so they're content to ignore us as they continue their journey.

"Seems like this entire area is fine," I say as I look around. "And there aren't any clouds in the sky, so we won't have to worry about rain. It won't be long until it's dark, with the sun almost gone?—"

My ears prick as the ground shakes with tremors. Something is coming. Something big. Calvin notices the look on my face and frowns.

"Po? What is it?" He brushes his fingers across my elbow.

"We need to get off the ground," I say as my heart skips. "Now."

All four of my arms latch around Calvin's torso again, and I launch us up into the air just as an enormous, feathery predator bursts through the poppies. With its ferocious beak and soulless eyes, it lunges forward, snapping at us as we narrowly escape being devoured whole in its maw.

"Shit!" Calvin screams. "Chicken!"

The creature called a chicken leaps into the air, its wings beating at its sides.

"Sun's scorching rays! Can it fly?!" I cry out.

"Not well!" Calvin yells back. "But it seems pretty damn determined!"

The chicken lets loose a terrible, warbling shriek that reverberates in my skull. The adrenaline from earlier barely had time to wear off, and now we're being thrown into more chaos. My wings, still sore, carry us up, up, up … but we're slow, and the chicken is fast. Too fast.

Its beak catches Calvin's foot, and he lets out a blood-curdling cry. My soul momentarily leaves my body at the sound.

Then I shriek as his foot is yanked clean off.

The chicken, now distracted by Calvin's foot, pecks at the ground where it fell. Tears prick my eyes as Calvin screams his head off, no doubt in terrible pain from having one of his limbs eaten. I find a sturdy poppy nearby and lower us down into it.

Immediately, I'm on top of Calvin and inspecting his feet only to find that, rather than losing the whole foot, instead the skin has been torn clean off. Nausea roils in my gut from the sight, but I force myself not to look away.

Cal blinks as he wiggles the pink, fleshy nubs in the air and starts to laugh. He's gone mad from his injury, no doubt. I press my hand to his leg and shake my head in deep sadness.

"Oh, Cal. I'm so, so sorry. That horrible creature," I say as tears streams down my cheeks.

Calvin continues to laugh like a crazy person. I glare at him.

"What is so funny about this? Your foot is gone. Do you realize what's happened to you? Or are you perhaps in shock?"

He sits up and rubs the tears from his own face, then holds up his foot. The awful sight of the wrinkly pink thing left behind makes me want to throw up, but I steel myself against the discomfort for his sake. "Please. I am not used to seeing such things, Cal. I'm squeamish."

"Po. No, look," he insists, and then to my alarm, he pulls off his other foot and sets it aside. Then he removes the thin piece fabric covering the nub. "I'm fine. These are my feet. They were just inside my shoes before. The chicken ate my shoe ."

"Shoe?" I blink at him. "Wait, those hard brown things with the laces weren't your feet? I could have sworn…"

Calvin shakes his head. "No, Sunshine. They're just clothes, like the rest of my outfit. They protect my feet. See? These are my toes." He wiggles the nubs again, and I blink.

This is … a lot to take in. We bee fae have never had any necessity to cover our feet, so the concept is foreign to me. But this is much, much better than the alternative. Relief washes over me at the realization that Calvin isn't maimed after all.

"Oh, praise the sun!" I chirp, then release the longest sigh of my life. "I was so sure that chicken just devoured your foot!" But then I remember his glasses coming off earlier. I'm not sure if those were for decorative purposes or something else, so I ask, "What about your glasses?"

Calvin runs a palm down his bare face and groans. "Yeah. That's going to be a pain. I can't see as well without them, but at least my vision isn't … terrible. I can still make out your facial features from this distance. Sort of. Still, it would be great if we could go back and look for them."

"I'll fly down to search once that feathery monster is gone," I say.

We both laugh, hug, and kiss. Then he puts his remaining shoe back onto his foot and sighs. "This feels weird, only wearing one shoe."

"I'm sure. It would be like only wearing a single glove," I agree.

"Some pop stars would disagree with that," Calvin mutters. I have no idea who or what he's talking about, and I don't ask him to explain this time. I'm just so happy he's unharmed.

The wind has at least died down, so we aren't at risk of being tossed out of the poppy again. In the distance, the human house's door swings open, and a muscular, shirtless man steps outside. His chest and arms are covered in paintings, and my throat hitches at the sight.

Calvin rolls his eyes and nudges me in the ribs. "I know that look," he says.

Looking at him askance, I smirk. "You do? What look is it, then?"

"You find him attractive," Calvin mutters. "Doesn't matter what species the woman is, I guess. Tattoos and muscles are always going to be more appealing than skinny and … well, tattoo-less, I suppose."

Frowning, I slide my hand over his. "No, Cal. Yes, I like the—what did you call them? Tattoos? And the muscles. But that doesn't matter, because he isn't you. I've…" I pause for a moment, unsure if I should continue speaking or not. Being this vulnerable with someone is still so new to me. It's surprisingly difficult. "I've truly come to care for you in the short time we've been together, you know. I wouldn't change a single thing about you."

Calvin smiles, and my heart smiles right along with him. "Po. I?—"

"INGRID!" The man in the distance cries out, startling us both. "Where did you get to? C'mon, Ingrid! Time to go back in the coop! It's almost nighttime!"

The chicken down below lets out a loud cluck before scampering off toward the man. When the chicken finally reaches the human, he bends over and scoops it up into his arms before placing it in the small wooden box that reminds me of my hive.

"Huh," I murmur. "He must be a Caretaker of some sort, too."

When I look back at Calvin, I notice he isn't looking at the man and chicken but at me. Suddenly, I feel naked. Completely stripped down. Like he can see straight through me. It should terrify me, but instead, I feel seen for the first time in my life.

Calvin leans forward and brushes his lips against mine.

"What were you saying?" I ask when he pulls away.

"It's nothing," he whispers, then presses his lips to my forehead.