Page 42 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Games

Rayze

Warrick smiles up at me. “Spread your legs, angel,” he says, but I can see he has an agenda among his hunger. He slides a finger down my calf. “Let me take care of you while we talk.”

“About what, Ivor?” I slowly shift my legs wide against the dresser, gripping the edge with wariness and thrill. Seeing him kneeling for me, it’s the best fucking sight.

His eyes dip between my thighs. “Wider,” he groans, completely enraptured by the sight of me.

My gut flutters, the Bond humming a steady, throbbing beat. I swallow when he grips my knees, curiosity spiking through me. “What do you want to talk about, Warrick?”

He grips my knees.

“First,” he murmurs, “you’re perfect.” His tongue dips inside me, and my head hangs back with a cry. “My lethal beauty.”

I grab his hair and move him to where I need him. He drags his piercing through my center, and my body quakes.

“Gods,” he growls. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of tasting you, hearing you.”

I drape my thighs over his shoulders, leaning my back into the moss-covered wall.

White flowers bloom along the vines, their petals glistening from the natural water trickling down.

My chest caves, my eyes fluttering closed as he sucks and toys.

My legs shake, my stomach clenching at the edge of an orgasm.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Scream, angel. Scream and let me taste your pleasure.”

His breath. His tongue. His words. His teeth.

I scream.

My pussy clenches around him, and I have no thoughts but to shove him to the floor and hear his echoed praise.

Warrick drops back as I hop down from the dresser and straddle him.

“Your turn, my snake,” I say, slipping over his hard length.

His muscles shake and spasm, his mouth falling open with heavy breaths. His head scrapes back against stone, his hips pulsing with need. “Fuck,” he grunts.

“Scream and fill me with your pleasure,” I beg, riding him in a quick, desperate rhythm.

“Gods,” he curses, his neck bared to me.

I squeeze a hand against his pulse, and his nails dig into my hips, a strangled groan vibrating against my palm.

“Rayze,” I growl. “R-A-Y-Z-E. Me . My name. My cunt squeezing your cock.” I grind down on him harder, faster. “ Come .”

He forces me still before his eyes squeeze shut and my name tumbles from his lips. He bursts inside me, and I clutch his head to my chest with a sharp exhale. My body instantly tries to recoil, and I hold him tighter, counting to ten in my head.

Warrick pulses gently, his cum leaking between my thighs.

I’d barely noticed when he spilled inside me at the slaughterhouse.

I’d been so focused on getting him to the Temple of Reflection.

Now with this, I don’t know. I think I’m—I suck in a panicked breath, trying to force myself steady as I lean down and nip at his ear.

“I still hate you,” I push out, my voice far steadier than I feel.

Warrick chuckles and drives my hips down on his cock, causing me to whimper. His lashes flutter with an exhale. “Gods, woman.”

I peer down at him, and the raw emotion in his eyes claws through me. My stomach squeezes with unease, the curve of his lips a half-smile.

“I don’t hate you.” His voice is gruff, the bob of his throat making my head spin. He traces a finger over the slope of my cheek. “Not at all.”

He pulls back, the playful glint in his gaze hardening as I rake in another succinct breath. His brows furrow, and he sits up, wrapping an arm around my waist to secure me in his lap.

Both of our chests dip at the new position, his cock still hard inside me. My walls clench at the feel, and my breathing becomes more difficult.

Warrick’s confused expression slices toward panic. “Fuck. Fuck . What did I do? Did I hurt you?”

The panic worsens. He grabs my hips, seconds from picking me up and lifting me from him, but I force him to stop, grabbing his throat.

“Don’t,” I beg him. “Don’t ruin this. Don’t ask me what’s wrong. Just—” I stumble over my words, wincing at the shake in my voice— “Kiss me or fuck me again or chase me. I don’t care. Just no more questions tonight, okay?”

He stares at me, worry carving his face. He’s quiet for too long, my chest tightening and my lungs squeezing. Then he runs a soft touch up the back of my neck.

“Alright,” he says, his voice dark.

I nod. “Okay.”

His lips hook into a soft grin. “Okay.” Then he drags my mouth down to his.

I sink into the kiss, the panic easing as I focus my thoughts on pleasure. He tilts my head back, opening me wider, and I roll my hips. His quiet groan releases the tension from my shoulders, his body molding to mine.

The Bond ripples, tightening around us like an unending embrace. Warrick pulls from my mouth, his fingers twisting in my hair and his eyes closed as he presses his forehead to mine.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” he admits.

“The Bond?”

He nods against me. “It feels heavier since the cut.”

“Like it’s strangling us,” I whisper.

His eyes open at that, his grin vanishing. He hesitates then presses a small kiss to my lips and pinches my chin. “Do you still want to play tag?”

I grind down on him in approval, and he trembles. “I was hoping you’d ask me that.”

Warrick thrusts—hard. “Games can be fun.”

“Games can be very fun.”

“Name your fantasy, vicious.” He trails his fingers over my neck. “I’ll make it mine.”

“Hunt me,” I whisper. “Then fuck me like a madman.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking hell. Where are they?” he asks and bumps a knuckle under my chin with a knowing look.

I blush. “The nightstand. I summoned them when I woke up.”

His eyes flick over to it. “Of course you did.” He cocks a brow.

A dark smile touches my lips.

Warrick hums low in his throat, his hips grinding upward.

“ Again ?” I ask.

“Again.” His cock throbs inside me. Then rougher—“After I hunt you.”

I nod, but the Bond twists painfully. He’s right. It’s heavier, but it’s not strangling me. At least, not in the way he thought I meant.

I like it.

My snake , I try, pressing the word along the invisible threads between us like a kiss.

His eyes lock with mine, pupils flaring.

My lips wobble. Can you hear me?

His breath catches. Then his lips brush the seam of mine, reverent, shaking. Yes, my vicious angel. I hear you. “Gods,” he whispers aloud. “I love that.”

Do you trust me? I ask, reaching for my magic. It yawns awake after days of recovery, drifting into my veins with thrill.

He nods against me, and an orgasm spikes down my spine. I’m trying.

I kiss him softly. Tenderly. “Find me?” I whisper.

“For always,” he promises, and I slip beyond the veil.

Warrick’s threads brighten around us, bright and glimmering. He shudders as my power pools against them.

I rise from my straddle, his breath harsh as he slides from my warmth. I pad to the nightstand and open the drawer, grabbing the scissors.

Ready ? I ask him across the Bond before I can no longer do so.

His eyes darken as he slowly lifts from the ground, his cock dripping and proud between us. He walks behind me, grazing his hands down my body and over my fingers. Ready.

Together, we cut.

Strings snap and wail. Pain ruptures through every bone, muscle, and nerve ending. Warrick rips away from me, clutching his gut as I saw, my teeth gritted.

Then the last threads of our Bond slice in half.

My hand shakes around the scissors, their silver frame shuddering. They’re less corporeal, the magic within them eating away at the casing.

My throat works as Warrick catches himself against the bed, fingers curling into the covers.

Can you hear me still? I try, but there’s nothing.

He starts to raise his head, seconds from his eyes locking with mine and forcing the Bond to regrow.

I latch to his threads, every one of them easily malleable, his cum streaked between my thighs. I grin and tug.

“Forget me,” I command, and my snake’s eyes roll back.

The bedroom door snaps open. “Sin, The Storm withdrew her contracts with Synlon,” Aleksi says, but she trails off, her eyes widening at the sight of Warrick. She turns her back and clears her throat. “We still need the Alodon nest from him.”

I move to the mirror and open a portal to Warrick’s apartment at Fang’s Edge. “We’ll have it by the end of the week. Help me, won’t you? The fucker’s heavy.”

I curl my arms under Warrick’s, his hair falling in his face.

Aleksi keeps her eyes to the ground, wrenching his legs up.

“It’s just a dick, Ender,” I laugh.

She sputters. “Not all of us make a habit of seeing them on a regular basis, Sin.”

We walk Warrick through the portal, darkness and stars wrapping around us and spitting us out in a blink.

“Maybe you should,” I say, giving her a knowing look.

Aleksi grunts, shuffling back. “It’s impossible for me to fuck around when I know every sexual encounter a person has had, how they’ve betrayed another, how—”

“Even if you’re drunk enough?” I interrupt.

Rain thunders against Warrick’s window, his apartment dusty and untouched. Fang’s Edge thrums beyond his front doors, the club at full capacity below.

We dump him on his bed.

“Drunk gets me to sleep,” Aleksi admits, “but it doesn’t exactly make me fun in bed.” She hesitates. “Should we dress him?” She rubs the back of her neck, cringing. “Clean him up?”

I trail my gaze over Warrick.

“I think it’s best to leave my scent on him for a hunt, don’t you?” I ask and shoulder past her to his dresser. “Huh.”

“A hunt? You better be careful with his mind, Angeline. That man is crazy enough,” she says and joins me. She settles a hand on her hip. “Huh,” she agrees.

I pluck a shirt from the drawer. “It looks new.”

Aleksi rifles through, counting them. “Why are there so many? Gods know he doesn’t wear them.”

“Maybe he sleeps in them?”

She lifts a brow.

I blow out a breath. “Yeah, probably not.”

We burst into laughter, Aleksi chucking one of his shirts at my chest.

Warrick groans, and we slap hands over our mouths, hurrying back to the portal. We leap through, hands intertwined, and land in Underground Palace.

I throw Warrick’s shirt on, chuckling as the black fabric shifts around my thighs. “I’m starving. Tell me Sonya made cookies.”

Aleksi throws open the bedroom door with a grin. “Are you kidding? She’s shitting herself over our win in Gronem. Of course she made cookies.” Then she hesitates. “Do you trust your Heir, Sin?”

She studies my profile as we walk through a vine-covered hall. I skim my fingers over the white flower petals growing along the old stone, swallowing before I answer, but I can’t find the words.

Aleksi’s knuckles brush mine. “Rayze,” she says gently and pulls us to a stop. “What is it?”

I inhale and glance away.

She offers a sad smile. “I think I’d be scared shitless if I thought I was falling for my Heir.”

My eyes snap to hers, and I scowl. “I didn’t say—”

Aleksi lifts a hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Do you remember when Fate cut all this off? How Sonya started giving you scalp massages as if it would somehow grow all this pretty hair back overnight?”

I laugh. “I just used it as a free excuse for a nightly massage.”

“Oh, I’m aware. We couldn’t say no to you. Slayer and I always wanted a little sister in the house,” she admits.

I rake a hand through my hair. “What does that have to do with Warrick?”

Aleksi’s blue eyes flick over my face. “Do you remember what you told us the night your head was shaved?”

“Honestly? No. I blocked most of that day out,” I mumble, hugging myself and scrunching my fingers into the fabric of Warrick’s shirt.

“We asked if you wanted to talk about what happened,” she says, “and you said it didn’t matter, that nothing did.”

I nod, vaguely recalling that conversation. “When we’ve nothing to lose, we’ve everything to gain. You said all the emptiness I felt just meant my body was ready to absorb something new, become something greater.”

“Yeah, and what else?”

I grimace.

“Rayze.” Aleksi takes my shoulders. “We told you there’s no revenge without love. Whether it’s loving the Daughters or loving yourself, our power comes from emotion.”

“I always forget you’re secretly a sap,” I mutter.

She gives me a playful shove and adjusts her glasses. “They’re called fairy tales, Rayze Angeline, and when your power is mine—looking at the multiverse and seeing cold hard facts in every direction—then a good love story can cure your fucking headache.”

“And ale.”

She grins. “Yeah, and a fuck ton of ale.”

I shift my weight. “I’m not a princess, Ender, and I think a big part of me gave up on the idea of falling in love or having some kind of happily ever after a long time ago.”

Aleksi grins. “You’re definitely no princess, Sin, but you’ve got one pining after you. As annoying as he is, I think he’ll love you as much as we all do if you let him. I know you’re set on your games, but I just hope you make some time to just be , too.”

“Maybe,” I say, my voice cracking.

She sighs. “Love isn’t a consolation prize, Sin. Everyone has a right to it. If you want it, have it, and if he fucks it up, your sisters will scatter his remains among Nowhere, his soul to wander in loneliness until the end of time.”

I snort. “I love you . That counts, doesn’t it?”

“More than you know,” she answers and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in tight as we wander toward the banquet hall for cookies. “I love you, too.”