Page 22 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Own Me

Warrick

There’s attraction.

Then there’s this.

A pulsing in my chest greater than any heartbeat. A tug in my gut that pulls only toward her. One look, her eyes on mine, and my cock presses hard against my belt. I could be half-dead on this tunnel wall, blood running down the stone, and her gaze would keep me alive and hard for her.

It’s unbearable. I’m seconds from fucking her against the wall.

My chest heaves. My palms sweat. Hell, it’s like I’ve never seen a woman before.

“Can you get your dick out of your head for five seconds?” she breathes. “Your lust along the Bond is making it impossible to think straight.”

I push off the tunnel wall and stalk closer. “Good,” I mutter.

Her eyes widen. “I like it,” she says, nodding to my mask. She’s trying to deflect, diffuse, but I know she feels this, too. The inevitability of us.

My fingers graze her arm and brush her waist, mapping her like I might forget the curve of her body between now and the next breath.

“Thanks,” I manage, my voice low, gesturing to the mask.

I knew I couldn’t wear my usual gear. Unaffiliated mortals wouldn’t clock me, but Serpents would.

I swallow when she lifts a hand and traces the outer edge of dark feathers. They cover my forehead and down to my nose, leaving my mouth exposed.

That part was important. Very, very important. There’s no fucking way I won’t be tasting her.

“Black feathers?” she asks.

“As dark as I’ve dreamt your soul, angel.” I swipe a finger over her exposed collarbone.

Red crawls over her nose. “I’ve two hours, Ivor. Get to your show and tell.”

I dip lower and brush my lips near her ear. “Wrong. You’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”

Her breath hitches, just a fraction, but my cock twitches.

“You want to come home with me, baby?” I whisper, lightly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Rayze glares at me. “No.”

Believe it or not, I do actually want her to want to fuck me.

I draw back, barely. My hands remain on her hips. They belong there. Until the end of time. Always.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I force my hands off her and gesture to the crowded tunnel ahead. “After you.”

Her eyes narrow. “I need to add to our negotiation.”

“Anything,” I muse, and it’s not a lie. She could ask for my heart, and I’d hand her the whole bloody thing on a platter.

“You can’t kill me.”

I grin and thread my fingers through the ends of her damp hair. I have to touch her. Ground myself. It’s the only thing keeping me from dragging her into the nearest alcove and burying myself so deep she forgets why she ever wanted to walk away.

“Is that all?” I ask, amused.

She swats my hand away and turns, stalking ahead. Her coat whips behind her, hips swaying. She was made to be bitten, bruised, and spread. For. Me.

“Eyes off my ass,” she barks over her shoulder.

I trail her like I’m on a fucking leash.

“Impossible,” I mutter. “I’m doing it a favor. Trust me, it likes to be looked at.”

She swings her hips harder, deliberate and cruel. She flashes a smile over her shoulder at the sound of my groan.

The corridor narrows, carved unevenly from old stone.

Fliers for backroom fights and Skin markets peel at the corners, curling like flaking scabs along the walls.

A trio of girls in ripped mesh lean against a stall advertising verified crony tattoos with show of a Serpent blade and vest. One of them winks at me, and I step closer to Rayze, sliding my fingers between hers.

She slows, her eyes cast down to our hands.

“I don’t want to lose you.” I lift my voice above the noise of the crowd.

With a defiant glare, she yanks her palm free. “You’ll only lose me if I want you to.” Then she shoves ahead. “Lead,” she orders.

Heart in my throat, I pick up my pace.

“Good boy,” she says with a sharp smile.

I’ll marry her.

“I expect results, Warrick.” She eyes my profile. “Where are you taking me?”

I angle us toward a shadowed corridor. “One of my clubs.”

She tracks the direction of my gaze. Her lips part as low moans and the crack of leather roll from the entrance of a Skin club ahead.

Her pupils dilate. Her cheeks flush.

I am—eternally, completely—ruined.

I brush my fingers over her reddened cheek, enamored. “What do you need to know about the Skin Trade?”

A small vein on her temple tenses, but surprisingly, she doesn’t lean away.

“It would be helpful to understand where it starts,” she admits, clearing her throat.

“I’m aware of how you ship Skin across Bossdoms, but I’ve yet to lay a Serpent with intel on the true nest. Some say Fang’s Edge.

Others say The Dredge. I need to know for sure. ”

My hand stops its slow crawl over her heated neck. “Lay?”

Rayze lifts her chin.

I grasp it. Hard. “If you want answers, then this body belongs to me. Understood?”

Her nostrils flare. “Give me the source of The Serpent’s distribution, and our deal is fulfilled.”

I lean closer. “And?”

She presses her lips together.

“Fine.” I step back with a growl. “Sleep with whoever you want. Just know they’ll die touching what’s mine.”

Her smile is venomous. “I’m not yours,” she breathes. Then she rises onto her toes, her lips grazing the edge of mine. “And there’s no need to kill who I bed, Warrick. I don’t need a man to do my favorite part.”

She’ll bear my children.

“Own me,” I breathe.

She huffs a dark laugh. “Baby, you were mine the minute your father hurt my family.”

I bat one of the knives dangling off her corset. “I’d apologize, but if it brought you to me, I’ve got no damn remorse.”

Her pupils flare with rage. “Fuck you.”

“Here’s hoping.” But my grin falters. “I’ve barely gotten more from you than your name. You can’t expect me to beg for forgiveness when I don’t know why.”

Rayze approaches the doors to the club. Then she stops, her brows furrowing like she’s weighing her answer. Her breath clouds in the air, sharp and fast.

“My mother died by Serpent hands,” she says. “Arrow through the chest. Most of my sisters were killed, too.”

My gaze snaps to the bow strapped across her back.

“He didn’t kill my youngest sisters,” she adds, voice flat. “I did. Trying to save them.”

My fists clench.

“I was fourteen,” she murmurs. Her fingers twitch against her thigh. Her brow tightens, and her eyes go unfocused. Haunted.

I reach out, but she shakes me off like I burned her.

“And those lays you mentioned?” I try.

A smile of pride lifts her beautiful features, but she bites down on her lip. “Later,” she says and gestures to the door. “Let’s go.”

“You know,” I start and catch her wrist, “cronies have been reported missing.”

Her shoulders stiffen.

“They go into brothels, and they don’t come out.” I tug on her arm, and she turns to me with an uneasy exhale. “Tell me that isn’t you.”

A devious glint lights her eyes.

“Rayze.” I step into her, cupping her face. “Do you have any idea what killing Serpents has done to Russell? You’ve driven him mad. He calls you a ghost. A devil.”

Her fleeting smile from before sticks this time. Wide and bright. “Oh?”

I clutch her shoulders. “Angel, this is serious. I’ll help you. I’ll do whatever you want. But you need to slow your kills. You’re getting intel from me now. It shouldn’t be an issue.”

Her smile dies.

“Slow my kills?” she repeats. She tears from my grip, eyes flashing. “Will he slow his? Is that what you tell yourself as to not upset dear, old daddy?”

My jaw flexes. “Don’t underestimate him, Rayze. He hunts you as we speak.”

“Good.” She taps her fingers against the bow at her back. “He’ll look pretty with an arrow through his throat.” Her gaze sharpens on mine. “So will you, if necessary.”

I run my tongue over my teeth.

“Don’t look so perplexed, snake,” she says with a sneer. “It’s not my fault you crave sex more than intelligence. I told you I hate you. I told you I want revenge. Still, you focus on the next time you can touch my pussy.”

“To be fair, it’s an excellent pussy.”

“ Obviously .” Rayze squares her shoulders. “Now I can handle your father. That’s all I’ve lived for. The real question is—can you handle me , or is this deal over before it’s begun?”

I drag my gaze down her body in warning.

She stands taller, daring me to flinch instead.

My lips peel back with a snarl of frustration. I shoulder past her and slam my fist against the front door of the club, never once breaking eye contact.

“The first thing you need to know,” I say, “is most nests move. Nightly. In pieces. It’s not one thing—it’s a dismembered body.

If you want to kill it, you don’t aim for the heart.

You poison every limb. Your sources mentioned The Dredge.

It’s a power point, yes, but to take it down, you need to make sure everything else falls with it, especially the trading points inside the other Bossdoms. I can’t get you there tonight, but I know one that will do. ”

Her anger flickers. “You’re actually telling me.”

The club door creaks open, revealing a guard and a velvet-wrapped interior. I slide my hand to the small of her back and guide her inside. “I am.”

“Because you want to fuck me?” she asks, eyes narrowing.

The club door clanks shut and darkness sweeps around us.

“Of course I want to fuck you, Rayze Angeline,” I say, my voice gravel. “Look around this room and you’ll only see half of the positions I’ve imagined you in.”

The Bond pulls taut, her breath hitching.

“But a far larger part of myself wants you to work with me, not against me,” I continue, enjoying the way her spine stiffens against my palm.

“No promises,” she says, her voice dipping low among the hushed desire of the club’s patrons.

“That’s fine,” I murmur, “but if your answer changes to a yes, I want you screaming it while riding my cock.”

Rayze eyes my profile for a long moment, chewing on her lip. “Maybe.”

I grin. “I’ll take it.”