I Became an Ant Lord, So I Built a Hive Full of Beauties

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Why did he miss her so damn much?

That thought didn’t come like a whisper. It struck him like a hammer. One moment he was quiet, steady. The next, he was shaking slightly, jaw clenched, heart thudding in his chest like it was trying to dig its way out.

Was it guilt... for touching her so casually? For teasing her like a boy poking a flame and pretending not to care if he got burned?

Was it regret—for not biting that stamp shaped on her melon-soft chest, even when his mouth had hovered above it for a breathless second?

Maybe it was when her bathrobe traced the edge of her curves, the thin cloth barely hiding the shape of her. His eyes had wandered, his instincts stirred, and his body had responded without mercy. He remembered that ache... the twitch in his muscles, the heat in his blood... the shame in pulling away before he lost control of his Ant rod.

But no. It wasn’t guilt. It wasn’t a regret. It was worse. It was fear.

Not fear of any rejection, not even fear of losing control. It was the terrifying thought that she might believe he had died.

And the cruelest part was... she would have every reason to think that.

He had escaped the desert mantis’s death trap alone. He never tried to contact her afterward. Not once. While he made love with Luna in the monarch mountain and Miryam snuggled in her warm nest, Mia sat somewhere else entirely... waiting, perhaps wondering... if he was gone for good.

Vexor had told him how she changed. Needle said she spoke less. Flint had shrugged and said she was always serious, but now her eyes didn’t light up at anything anymore. Shale admitted he’d heard her crying once, when she thought no one was listening.