When we got out of that hole in the ground, the rain had stopped. I flew in the opposite direction from where I had come. I couldn’t smell any enemies or other bees. Curiosity burned inside me about what had happened to the hive we had slept in, but the memories of yesterday, and the death of everything I loved, pushed me onward, faster and faster.

  Now that I think about it, I’m flying a lot better than the day before. I’d like to say it’s because I’ve healed, but I flew badly even before I was hurt. Have I lost my baby weight? No. I can still feel that my royal rump is heavy.

  Maybe… no. It can’t be the change.

  Movement inside the egg snapped my thoughts back into place. I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I had no honey or anything else to feed my little one. I only had three crystals left.

  This isn’t right. I shouldn’t have to think about this.

  I’m a queen.

  I’m never letting the world do this to me again, and I’m not living in a forest full of wasps.

  I fumed for a while, so focused on my anger that I didn’t notice the forest growing darker and denser around us. I noticed when the air filled with the smell of pine and spiders, and some of those spiders felt big. Really big. Like they had passed through recently.

  When I looked around, I realized the forest had changed. What had once been full of flowers and life was now choked with spiderwebs as thick as branches. I couldn’t see any spiders that should have been capable of making them, only small ones, and I had a hard time believing they were responsible. The forest carried a terrifying feeling, and for the first time since becoming a bee, I could hear things without being able to smell them.

  It wasn’t wind or rain masking scents. I could hear small sounds all around us. Strangely, it didn’t make me afraid.

  I just felt numb.

  I should probably get us to safety, I thought, flying close to a tree to hide, but the sounds followed us. We weren’t safe here. My gaze dropped, and I let out a tired sigh, or rather, a soft click.

  Was it really worth it? Honestly, it might have been better to be eaten than to feel like this.

  I flew down toward the roots. I had spotted some loose earth earlier, so I set the egg beside me and dug a small hole. The smell of earth was somewhat fresh, but still unpleasant. The sounds crept closer as we hid, or rather, as I hid.

  She did nothing. Lazy girl.

  Then I saw one of them.

  A squirrel, jumping from branch to branch.

  Great. We were hiding from jumping rodents.

  The smell of dirt surrounding me pissed me off. It wasn’t that I hated the smell, but all the damn dirt sticking to my fluff. It felt awful. I was about to shake myself clean when something behind me startled me, and I started stinging wildly, over and over again.

  It was hard to look around inside the cramped hole I’d dug, but I quickly realized it had only been dirt falling on me.

  Dirt.

  “Little one, forget that ever happened. That’s an order.”

  I looked up again and saw more squirrels. Knowing what they were made my irritation flare, and I felt the numbness I’d carried all day finally drain away, replaced by anger.

  I clicked loudly, not caring if they heard me.

  “Little one, listen to me. We have to get strong. Strong enough that jumping rats, wasps, or spiders can never eat or attack us. We will make the wasps pay, but we are never going to be anyone’s prey again.”

  In reality, my epic speech was just clucking and squeaking, and even if the egg had already hatched, she wouldn’t have understood a single word.

  Still, I felt it.

  The resolve I had gained in the underground hive hardened into something solid.

  A purpose.

  We were never going to be pushed again. Not by beasts. Not by wasps. Not even by humans. I didn’t know if the ones from the memories were the same, but they were a selfish bunch without purpose.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  That thought hardened my resolve even more, and the numbness finally began to fade.

  We stayed there for an hour or two before crawling out, once I was sure all the squirrels had passed. I smelled the air but couldn’t detect any trace of them anymore. Was that some kind of magic?

  I searched the area and found nothing except old spider scents, all drifting in the same direction the squirrels had gone. So we went the opposite way. As long as it wasn’t birds or wasps, that place should be safer.

  I squeezed the egg a little tighter and flew faster.

  However hard I tried, every meter took twice as long traveling alone compared to flying with my sisters. I had to constantly watch for spiderwebs, birds, and damn wasps. Strangely, there was almost nothing. Only small spiders, though some of the webs looked like they’d been made by something as big as the buck near the lake.

  Flying while carrying the egg was exhausting. My wings ached, and I wasn’t fully healed yet, but this wasn’t a good place to stop and rest. Even with only smaller spiders around, this part of the forest felt far more hostile than my mother’s domain or the lake.

  Following a fresh scent I came upon, I eventually reached a waterfall.

  And before it lay a wolf. It looked rugged and wild, nothing like the ones from the memories.

  It was huge. At least three times the size of the buck. Probably bigger than a horse from my past life. Unless my past self had been a complete idiot, wolves—or dogs, I think they were called—weren’t supposed to look like that.

  Or was that the difference between dogs and wolves?

  The memories were incomplete, cluttered with useless things from pretend stories on glowing boxes. They didn’t help me figure out whether it was hostile to bees or if it had any weaknesses.

  I was about to inspect it when I remembered how Mother had seemed able to feel that happening. If this wolf could do the same, I’d probably be dead.

  After watching it for a while, it started to look… kind of cute.

  Hmm.

  Maybe I could make it my dog.

  I decided to stay. Bees probably weren’t on the menu, and the thing looked big enough to scare away other predators. And if I could make it my dog, couldn’t I crush the wasps easily?

  And why wouldn’t it want to serve me? I’m a queen.

  It was probably too stupid to know its place yet, but I would teach that dog who its master was.

  Now I just needed to figure out where to build my new hive.

  I looked around for a good spot. The best trees with a proper view were too close to my future dog, and building there before it was mine felt stupid.

  Don’t tell me I have to live in the damn dirt. This has to be some kind of punishment from a god or something, because that’s just awful.

  I flew lower, then climbed again. The ground was crawling with ants. I didn’t feel immediate danger from them, but my past life remembered that some ants were extremely aggressive and would eat everything they could.

  It would take days to kill them all.

  No.

  I’d just have to find the next safest place.

  I’d seen some holes in trees earlier, but after everything that had happened, they didn’t feel right. Still, I had to get a grip and choose something that seemed safe, even if it didn’t have a perfect view.

  I found a branch that might work, then stopped. Instead of just looking and smelling, I listened.

  Cooing birds. Wind rustling leaves.

  Making it here doesn’t feel great.

  What about strong winds? Storms? Did storms even happen here? What if a bear climbed the tree and tried to eat us? Do bears even exist in this world?

  My instincts said nothing.

  If not the dirt or a branch, then a tree hollow was the only option.

  Did trees grow like that, or was something else responsible? Probably not important.

  It didn’t take long to find one. I’d already seen a few, and I was too tired to keep searching. I chose the closest. Unlike our first hive, it wasn’t deep inside the tree.

  Either we build here for now, or we move again.

  Something about starting a hive made me uneasy, like once I began, I shouldn’t leave. I thought back to our first hive and crushed the feeling.

  How am I supposed to experience the world and build a hive that can’t be pushed around if I just hide?

  No.

  I’ll need a network. I need to know what dangers exist in this forest and how the others nearby will react.

  I don’t know how we’ll do that yet, but first I need to become a queen. Then my subjects can handle it for me. Why should I do everything myself?

  I placed the egg deeper into the hollow. It was too exposed and should be surrounded by wax and honey.

  I ate one of the crystals and felt some energy return.

  No rest for the prettiest queen ever.

  I could carry far more nectar than before my evolution, but the sun was already sinking, and I hadn’t gathered nearly enough. Not enough to finish a gathering bowl, and definitely not enough for food.

  I lay on a branch, breathing hard, too tired to fly. Working until exhaustion hadn’t been my greatest plan, but things happened.

  I positioned myself so I could see my soon-to-be pup. As the moonlight shone on it, brighter than anything else in the clearing, something felt strange.

  As I watched, I noticed a flower.

  A truly beautiful one.

  And as I looked at it, I realized the light wasn’t coming from the moon at all, but from the flower. I could feel happiness—not from myself, but from it.

  I wanted honey from that.

  As I thought it, the pup opened its eyes, as if it could hear me. So that’s why you’re sleeping there, little pup.

  It didn’t seem to sense me, just looked around.

  I dragged my eyes away and flew back to my hollow.

  No point thinking about something I can’t ste—

  mean, claim.