Page 33 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Gods Save Me

Warrick

“I—” My mouth dries.

“What? You what , Warrick?” Rayze demands. “Because if it’s not an apology coming out of your mouth, I swear I’ll stab you.”

I groan. “You made Russell bleed? Without me? Bring him back. Let me watch.”

“A month, ” she says, trying to force me to focus, but she’s shaken by my words, raking her fingers through her hair. She paces, the Bond swelling with her arousal.

Fuck fuck fuck —

She sucks in a breath and braces her hand on a wall, hanging her head and squeezing her eyes shut. “You knew what they were planning for a month. Do you know how easily my mother and sisters could’ve escaped that fate had you told someone?”

I clutch my head and turn to face a corner. If my eyes stay on her any longer, I won’t be able to resist after being locked up, and she’s right. I’m a bastard. I don’t deserve her, and she doesn’t deserve to be chained to someone who failed her like I have.

The Bond licks like fire through my chest, guilt suffocating beneath our mutual need for one another.

My gaze lands on a discarded dagger. She’ll try to kill me. That doesn’t mean I have to back down. Yeah, I fucked up, but I was a kid. I don’t expect her to forgive me, but I’ve beaten myself up over that day every single second of my stupid fucking life.

I am sorry. I already apologized. She says that’s what she wants, but it isn’t. If it was, then she never would’ve told me the truth like this. She wants to fight. Fine. I’ll fight.

“I know what that fate would’ve been, Warrick,” she murmurs at my back. “It was the first thing my queen showed me when she helped me escape. It wouldn’t have been a perfect life, but my sisters and mother would have lived.”

All those years ago, the reflection of the crown in my Serpent blade—“Fate saved you,” I realize, plucking the dagger between my fingers. “Is she the one who took you?”

I turn back to her and stiffen.

Rayze stands with her bow drawn, an arrow aimed at me. “Fitting, don’t you think?”

I swallow. “Is this it then? You’ll kill me down here and your revenge is done?”

She snorts, cocks her elbow, and shoots.

“ Godsfuckingdammit —” I stagger, the arrow burying into my shin.

“No, my snake, I won’t be aiming to kill. Not with you.” She loads a second arrow, teeth gritted, and releases before I can catch my breath.

It drives into my thigh, and I drop into a kneel with a shaky exhale.

“There you go. Right where you belong.”

I stare down at the arrow with wide eyes. “That was almost my dick.”

“Oh, no . Is it okay?” she asks, seeming genuinely frantic.

I snap my head up at that, and a third arrow embeds in my shoulder. Blood soaks the lining of my jacket and slicks down my chest, but I yank the arrows free and chuck them to the floor.

I don’t care if I bleed out. I can’t have the fuckers in the way when she finally gives in.

A small laugh leaves her. “You’re so predictable, sometimes.”

“You like hurting me, angel?”

Her lips tilt with a damning smile.

That’s a yes.

I moan and wave the dagger. “C’mon. Let me take care of you. I know you’re wet.”

A fourth arrow lands in my bicep.

The Bond sings .

I wrench it out, tossing it aside, and lunge. Rayze gasps as I knock her bow across the room with one arm and drive her to the ground with the other, the dagger tight in my fist. I brace above her as she collapses onto her back.

A growl of frustration leaves her, and she snatches a dagger at her waist, stabbing me between the ribs.

“Done?” I lock my jaw against the pain.

“Hardly,” she sneers. Then she rips another dagger from her belt and drives it into my other side.

Agony ripples through me, but it drowns against the pleasure warping along the Bond. I wrench her legs wide on instinct, and she squirms.

“Warrick,” she growls, “this is supposed to be my villain moment.”

“By all means,” I snap and slice open her leather pants, baring soaked pink to my tongue. “Continue.”

“I hate you,” she forces out.

I drag my nose up her center, her thighs convulsing. “That all?” I mumble against her sensitive core, dipping my tongue into the squeeze of her pussy.

She stumbles over her words. “I used you to get closer to your father.”

“Not nearly enough,” I growl and lean back, tearing open my belt.

She wets her lips, and I pump my cock at the sight. Her eyes follow the movement hungrily, but anger washes over me.

Some of the Bond’s intense lust wavers enough to think straight. The last couple months flash through my mind, a headache creeping through my skull.

My hand stills, and I frown.

“Saving me in Rathem? The chaos at The Bid?” I ask, slowly lifting my glare to hers. “The woods—that was on purpose wasn’t it? Making me hunt you toward those stables? Giving me a tiny piece of my mind back just to have me hand over Serpent secrets?”

Her eyes darken.

“Fucking me in that nest?” My voice breaks.

No. That was sacred. Us claiming each other. There’s no way that wasn’t real for her.

Unless it wasn’t.

I stuff myself away with a curse and zip my pants. What the fuck am I doing?

Rayze snaps her legs shut, lifting up on her elbows with a mocking pout. “Is this the part where you finally ask me a question that doesn’t end with your dick in my cunt?”

Gods save me.

I rear up from the floor with a snarl and grab her, her breath of surprise going straight to my jilted cock. I slam her against one of the mirrors, and her head kicks back with a forced moan.

“Oh, baby,” she cries, faking an orgasm and thrusting her breasts against my chest. “ Harder .”

“Rayze!” I shout, power pouring from my fist as I punch the glass beside her head. Starlight flares over my hand, a crack spiraling outward from my hit before it intersects the shattered webbing she created.

What the fuck?

That devilish gaze slants back to mine. She chuckles darkly and pokes my nose. “Don’t look so angry, Heir. You’re not mad I used you. You’re just mad I did it so well.”

I grab her neck.

She smiles.

It breaks me how beautiful she is like this. Dangerous. So fucking dangerous.

“My mind,” I ask, my voice rough. “Did you mess with my mind again? Are you actually Hallie, or was that some kind of game?”

Rayze studies me, her head tilting. The black bob of her hair slides, the piercings along her ears shining. “There are rules to magic, my snake. First and foremost is to protect it at all costs.”

“ Did you toy with my fucking head —”

“For fuck’s sake, I was talking,” she bites out.

I release her neck and step back, folding my arms.

She lifts a brow. “Are you going to listen?”

“Depends on how thoroughly you piss me off, angel.”

Rayze grins and maneuvers around me. “Take a seat, Ivor.”

I stalk toward the clean chair, but she clears her throat, looking pointedly at the one covered in my father’s Godsdamn blood.

“Oh, fuck you,” I murmur and drop into it, blood soaking my pants.

“Later. If you’re a good boy,” she returns, plucking the sides of her trench coat between her fingers and whipping it outward, plopping into her chair and spreading her legs wide—the wreckage of her pants barely holding on.

My cock fucking weeps .

I let my head fall back, glaring at the ceiling in spite, and she laughs, my chest warming at the sound. Gods . I clench my fists against my knees.

“I carry a shard of Fate’s magic,” she says. “Through the Bond, you do, too. You won’t leave until you’ve committed yourself to the family who took me in after your betrayal—the Shard Daughters.”

My throat works.

“Your rehabilitation projects are ours now,” she continues. “Every club. The Skin at Estal Palace. They now belong under Daughter protection.”

I stiffen. “I’ve overseen those Skin for over a decade. You can’t just waltz in and take everything I’ve built.”

Her eyes flash. “Watch us.”

“I need to protect them. I gave my word.”

“And you think I won’t?” Her eyes narrow.

“I think loyalty starts with sharing. I’ll share ,” I say, eyes burning into hers, “but I won’t give up everything I’ve built to your little friends.”

“Shard Daughters,” she grinds out. “We’re the Queen of Fate’s instruments for change. She can’t fuck with the paths of lives without tearing holes across the multiverse, so she gave us magic instead. We operate based on which shard of Fate we were gifted.”

I fold my hands behind my neck, chewing on my tongue. “Multiverse?”

Rayze sighs. “Yes.”

A tense silence stretches between us. I could ask a thousand questions based on that alone, but I’m doing my best to not be an utter idiot. For once, she’s talking , and I don’t know if it’s a lie, but I’m not going to pass up the opportunity.

“And your specialty?” I ask, sliding my focus back to her bored expression. “The magic you have. What does it do exactly ?”

“I can command the Threads of Fate,” she says as if it’s the simplest explanation. “The easiest for me to play with are pleasure threads. Bend those and all the others tend to succumb to my power, as well.”

Then she grins. “I guess that’s why the stars call me Sin.”

Sin . Fucking Sin .

“And my power?” I wonder.

“Small. Nearly insignificant.”

I scowl. “That’s not what I was asking.”

Rayze shrugs. “It’s an extension of mine. With proper training, maybe you could wield it in the same ways I can, but never at the same capacity.”

I inhale, exhale. “And you’ve been torturing The Serpent?” I ask.

She tips her head, eyes hooded. “His memories make pretty bows when knotted.” Then she smiles wider. “So do yours.”

“You’re fucking terrifying,” I breathe.

Rayze grins. “You love it.”

I do. Gods, fuck me straight to the grave. I really do.

“So where do we go from here then?” I ask. “Because I’ll be honest, Rayze, I don’t exactly trust you right now.”

“Good. You’re learning.” Then she hesitates.

Her hips shift slightly. Her shoulders stiffen.

“But what I showed you was what I know to be true of that day from your perspective. I had to put you in the temple long enough to survey your mind through the obsidian glass. It enhances the Threads of Fate. Allows for further travel in every capacity, whether through another’s mind or hopping between realms, but it can be dangerous. ”

“You watched me that entire time.” I smirk. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

She presses her lips together, her nostrils flaring in frustration. “I wasn’t watching you physically, asshole. I was in your mind, trying to sort through your past memories.”

I lean forward, my smile faltering. “That was it?”

Rayze stares at me. She runs her tongue over her teeth. “That was it.”

“Fate took you from Squallspire,” I say again to confirm.

She gives me nothing but a terse nod.

I blow out a breath. “If you don’t want me dead, then what do you want?”

She cocks her head. “Shard Daughters believe we can’t necessarily choose our Fates, but we can choose our chains.”

I lift slowly from my chair, and she straightens, pressing to her feet and matching me. “Let me guess,” I murmur and inch closer.

Her green eyes sparkle, the torch on the back wall flickering.

I lift my hand to her mouth and drag my thumb, streaking her dark lipstick. She shivers, and I slant closer, pressing against all her curves.

“Our Bond is the chain you chose,” I whisper. “Isn’t it?”

Her eyes locked with mine, she dips her mouth over my thumb and sucks down, scraping her teeth up and over my knuckle in a slow tease.

“Sin,” I mutter, absolutely ruined.

Rayze releases my thumb with a pop, her tongue sliding over her lips.

“Answer my question.” I hook an arm around her, my cock pressing hard between us. “Am I your chain? Do you choose me?”

She hums in thought and moves in, my body rigid as she slides her lips along my jaw. Then she flicks her tongue over my dimple piercing, her breath fanning over my cheek.

“If the chains a Daughter chooses are malleable,” she says softly, the dungeon quiet but for the steady drip of blood. “Then she can wield them however she sees fit, Fate be damned.”

A woman playing God, and I’m her toy.

I want her more than I want my own skin.

My fingers curl under her chin and tip her head back. “And that’s what I am? Something to manipulate?” I ask.

Her lips press into a thin line.

I swallow and lower my voice, running my thumb along her jawline.

“I can’t change the past, angel, but I’ve spent my life searching for an opportunity to make things right.

I know you probably don’t believe me, but at least let me try to prove it to you.

I know ‘sorry’ isn’t enough, so tell me what is. ”

Rayze draws back, her eyes tracking over me with a dark glint. Her fingers slip into a pocket on the inside of her coat.

Then— scissors. They shine silver between us, the shears echoing with hidden power.

“Touch them,” she whispers. “Then we can talk about forgiveness.”