Page 30 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

A Monster

Warrick

Music curls through the night’s sea breeze, moonlight streaming through the storm clouds hanging low over The Kraken stronghold, Squallspire.

The Sea of Veriyth slams against the cliffside as I peer over the tips of my boots.

Water breaks against rock below, white-capped waves rising higher with each rumble of thunder.

Mechanical lifts built into the jagged black of the cliff crank and crank, Chrome Guards arriving five at a time.

“You’re not going to jump are you?” Ruel’s voice lifts over the wind, his shoulder brushing mine.

He follows my gaze out to sea, his face tilted slightly to look at me with his one eye.

“Gods,” he says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so pensive, Ivor.

Maybe you’ve got a brain in there, after all. ”

“Fuck you, Trask.” I knock his shoulder and walk away, my boots denting the lush grass that rolls up toward Squallspire.

The fortress rises at the opposite end of the cliff, the remnants of Squall Kingdom’s monarchy gutted and refinished with the corroded bones of Kraken warships.

Massive towers rise along the perimeter, hollowed out windows flickering with torchlight as pirates stand watch. Kraken flags fly high across spires.

At its back is Rathem, the city detached but ever-present. The only way in and out of the estate is by taking the lifts.

My gaze focuses on the Chrome Guards. They march across to the domed entry, lining up shoulder to shoulder across from pirates. None of them look to be enjoying this, kraken-tatted cronies flashing wary looks toward the snakes taking positions along their ranks.

“Strange to think after tonight this will be our normal,” Ruel mutters around a pipe.

The sharp clink of his lighter flicks open, a flame kissing the pipe’s end. Orange smoke billows, and he cocks a dark brow above his eye patch, lifting the pipe in offering.

“Brass,” he says, “an invention from the Skarne family. Doesn’t do much but calm. Since I can’t imagine sitting at a table with our fathers without killing them—calm it is.”

“I’m fine,” I say and shake my head.

His dark eye turns dull as he takes a long drag. Then a soft orange ring glows to life around his pupil. “Suit yourself.” He places his pipe in his leather jacket, its brass panels glinting in the moonlight.

I suck in a breath and eye him as we walk.

The dark tentacles across his neck ripple with a swallow. “What the fuck, Ivor? What is it? You’ve been cagey since you and Russell got here.”

My stomach twists. I open my mouth to spit out what I know I should tell him, but I’m interrupted by a squeal of delight.

A body crashes into mine, and I tip over with a grunt, landing in the grass. Ruel chuckles as bright green eyes smile down at me.

“Hi, Warrick,” Hallie says.

I grin, her palms pressed into the dirt on either side of my head, her dark hair curtaining around us. “Hey, Hal.”

“So?” she asks, fucking giddy.

I’ve created a monster.

I push her off me, reach inside my vest, and pluck an arrow free.

She snatches it and rips up from the ground. “That’s twelve!” she laughs and sprints back toward the estate. The quiver slung over her back rattles with the other eleven as she leaves me dumbfounded on the ground.

Ruel offers me a hand and tugs me up. “Twelve arrows, Warrick? Twelve? How often are you seeing my sister?”

I brush dirt off my Godsdamn ass. “She asked me for them when she started learning archery. Something about Serpent steel having better aerodynamics.” I catch his stern look and frown. “When I’m in Rathem, I drop one or two off. It’s not what you think.”

“Better not be. She’s only fourteen.”

“You think that little of me?” I scowl.

He doesn’t answer, his jaw flickering with tension. Scars tear over the lower half of his face, the skin gnarled and cruel from healing wrong. Usually, he keeps his Heir mask on.

As if he heard my thoughts, he clears his throat and unclips the muzzle from his belt, securing it over his wounds, the edge curving along his cheekbones, and latching it somewhere under his dark hair.

His headscarf rips through the wind, his voice muffled as the mask’s golden tentacles and gears move with his words.

“We are our legacies, Ivor,” he says as we walk up the front steps. “Flesh and weapons. Do I think you’re fucking my sister? No. Do I think you would if it meant saving your ass in front of The Serpent? Maybe.”

“I would never hurt her,” I say, my voice cracking. I suck in a harsh breath. “Ruel, I need to tell you—”

“Heirs,” Torren Trask greets us, sitting at the head of a long banquet table in the front hall of the estate. Food lines the table, my pulse kicking up at the sight of all nine of The Kraken’s daughters. “Take a seat.”

Ruel moves around to the empty chair on his father’s left, settling next to his six older sisters.

“Warrick,” Russell says gruffly, his hand clutched around a glass of ale.

I drag my gaze toward The Serpent, my nails biting into my palms.

“ Sit ,” he orders and nods to the chair between him, Hallie, and the two youngest Trasks.

Chrome Guards line the wall behind my father while pirates hold the rest of the hall, both sets of cronies with their hands resting on their sheathed weapons.

I scrape out my chair and sit, something shining out of the corner of my eye. I look down, my eyes widening a fraction at the sight of Hallie’s quicker across her lap, her bow hanging from the corner of her chair.

She grins at me, a faint blush to her cheeks. “Do you want to go and shoot after dinner?” she asks.

Fuck. I can’t do this.

Her grin falters. “Warrick?”

“Now that we’re all here,” Russell starts.

I slam my chair back and bolt up. “Sorry,” I say. “I just remembered Thalassa asked me to bring the girls to help in the kitchen.”

The Bosses exchange dark, frustrated looks.

“Better hurry then,” Ruel says, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Mother has very little patience these days.”

“Maybe you should help me escort them,” I say, forcing a smile and hoping Ruel reads my body language.

The dick waves a hand at his eldest sister, who stops sipping at her soup and frowns at us. “Loraine can help you.”

“Surely Thalassa doesn’t need all nine girls,” Russell says, and Torren laughs.

“Of course not.” The Kraken takes a drink of his ale and nods toward the two youngest. “Take the twins. We don’t need them for our initial negotiations.”

I give Ruel a long look, but he’s not paying attention. Just playing with his fork. My nostrils flare, and I snatch Hallie’s wrist, dragging her up from her chair, her brows furrowing.

“Hallie, too,” I announce. Then with a forced laugh. “I don’t really want to face Thalassa’s wrath if I only bring her a pair of eight-year-olds to help.”

“Fair,” Ruel says and points his fork at his father. “You know he’s right. Mom will do that thing where she slaps the back of your head.”

“Fine. Fine . Take Hallie.” Torren motions for a bottle of ale and cronies refill his daughters’ cups.

I’m going to be sick.

“Grab Meredith and Lori,” I tell Hallie, and she pulls her wrist out of my firm grasp, rubbing the skin with a frown.

She slings her bow over one shoulder and her quiver over the other, helping the twins out of their chairs. She leads them toward the kitchen, stopping me when we turn a corner.

“What’s going on?” she mutters.

“Tell me your mother is actually in the kitchen,” I say.

“I think so.” Hallie hefts Lori and Meredith onto her hips. “Warrick, you’re scaring me.”

I take Lori from her, the girl curling into my chest, and hurry down the hallway.

Fuck. Fuck .

“I’m glad you have those arrows,” I say. “You might need them.”

Hallie adjusts her quiver. “What are you talking about?”

We shove through the swinging doors of the kitchen, and part of me eases at the sight of The Kraken’s wife.

Thalassa Trask turns from her work at the stone counter, ingredients spilled across its slab. She smiles, seeing me holding Lori. Then she sees my face and that smile quickly disappears.

She wrenches a knife from the counter. “What?” She moves to me, dark hair curling out from her braid. “What is it?”

“You need to leave. Now,” I say and set Lori gently on the floor, shoving the three sisters toward their mother. The twins take hold of Thalassa’s skirts, but Hallie doesn’t budge from my side. Instead, she pulls her bow off her shoulder and grabs an arrow from her quiver.

“No,” I say firmly. “Don’t try to fight unless you have to. Get off this cliff first.”

“Warrick Ivor,” Thalassa hisses, and I stop in my rush to get back to the feast. “You tell me what the fuck they’ve done. Right now.”

Hands shaking, I look at the floor, my jaw tight. “They’re negotiating a new product that would merge the Skin and Rig Trades.” I inhale deeply. “Products with high selling points because of their Boss lineage.”

Fear carves across Thalassa’s face before she curses and ushers the twins toward the circular table in the far corner of the kitchen, the knife gripped tight in her hand.

She pulls back the tablecloth. “We’re going to play hide and seek girls.

Remember the rules? You don’t come out until mommy finds you. ”

“But you know our spot,” Meredith whines.

Thalassa squeezes her eyes shut. “What spot?”

The twins giggle and curl under the table, shushing each other as Thalassa drops the tablecloth, concealing them.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “You need to leave .”

“I have seven other children in that dining hall,” Thalassa seethes, glaring at me. Then she grabs Hallie by the shoulders, the poor girl still frozen from my admission, her green eyes wide as she blinks at me in disbelief.

“You stay here with your sisters, Hal,” Thalassa urges. “Promise me.”

Hallie rips her gaze from mine and stares at her mother, her chin trembling. “I don’t understand,” she whispers hoarsely. “Dad’s going to sell us ?”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Thalassa says and strides toward me. “What about you, Warrick? Will you fight?”

“I—” I shake my head. “He’ll kill me, Thalassa. He still has years before a Yield. He won’t hesitate to cut me down and raise a new Heir if I disobey him openly.”

Her eyes burn with rage and tears, a similar green as Hallie’s, as most of The Kraken daughters.

“Then stay here,” she whispers. “If I’m not back in the next ten minutes, take the girls down to the beach and into the sea caves. There’s a tavern in the Underground. You’ve been there with Ruel.”

I nod. “Yeah. I know it.”

“Take them there, tell Penelope that Lass sent you, and wait for my son,” Thalassa says. “If anyone walks out of that dining room, it will be Ruel. He won’t stand for this, Accords or not. My husband is a dead man if he touches a single hair on my daughters’ heads.”

“Okay. Okay,” I say.

She cups my cheek, her eyes tracing over my face. “Be better ,” she whispers and leaves, sprinting through the kitchen doors.