Page 50 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Summoned

Rayze

I grunt as I let go of several threads, dropping the wooden crate I’d held aloft with magic. It thunks atop a pile of others, blood streaming from my nose. I curse and wipe it away, my eyes roaming over the shipment and the painted black letters that read, brASS.

I lean my shoulder into the rough wall of the sea cave’s entrance, glaring out at Rathem’s skyline. Pirates patrol the beaches, the metal lifts leading up to Squallspire, The Kraken’s stronghold, thoroughly guarded near the water’s edge.

My father’s stronghold.

Torren’s upped security since his Heir was left bedridden thanks to my snake.

Warrick . The Bond tugs at me to return to him, and fuck, I need to. Just three weeks without him, letting him integrate into Synlon’s filth without knowing I exist—it did something to me. Hurt me.

Adjusting my trench coat, I give the crates one last glance, then hurry into the cave until the wet tunnel reveals a slit in its wall. I slide my hand through it, shivering when Fate’s darkness kisses my fingertips. The portal latches, and the cave warps.

But something’s wrong.

The stars around me wink out. Darkness folds into sharp waves, my body pulling through it against my command.

I lift my arms, trying to summon my magic, but it recoils as the black tugs me in further.

My breath hitches, a wasteland unfurling in every direction.

I bend at the knees, bracing for impact, my boots slamming down.

I catch myself in a crouch, the air thinning to a deep, unsettling cold.

A red moon blazes down from above.

I’m not in Mirror.

Movement at my back forces me into a hard swivel. I kick out my leg, yanking an arrow from my trench in the same motion.

A firm grip catches my heel.

I grunt and wrench my leg away, righting myself and snapping my bow free. There’s—there’s no one there. Impossible. I felt their grip. My brows pinch, my eyes searching rolling, black hills.

“Show yourself,” I demand.

I can’t be seen with human eyes , a deep voice drags down my spine.

I whip around, aiming my arrow at empty space. With a hard swallow, I shift behind Fate’s veil. My entire body stiffens as not one but multiple bodies begin to form in every direction. I’m surrounded, and standing before me is a thing that looks like a man.

But I don’t need to know this place or this species to feel his power.

As a Daughter, I’m aware of the multiverse.

Wrathos encompasses thousands of realms. We’re meant to study them, to learn everything we can, but history was never my specialty.

I’d give anything to have Aleksi by my side as the man watches me with slitted, golden eyes, the crown on his head gleaming beneath the ruby light of the moon.

“What are you?” I breathe, my knuckles white against my bow.

The men and women around him are less humanoid. Horns. Hooves. Tails. Wings. My gut tightens. Claws.

The man doesn’t answer for a long moment. Then he says, “Take a message to your queen.”

Slowly, I lower my bow. “You have a message for Fate?”

“Tell her I want the throne.” He looks me over, and I harden my jaw as a wave of light ripples under his skin.

The threads around him are unlike anything I’ve ever seen— white .

Pale and without any hint of an essence.

It’s as if he doesn’t have an essence or carries so many that the threads are overwhelmed by his presence.

“You want Fate’s throne?” I ask, starlight sparking over my knuckles. “Who the fuck are you?”

His lips press into a hard line, but for a single second, I swear I see gold seeping from between his lips. “She’ll know,” he replies.

My eyes narrow and I level an arrow. “Fuck you.”

“Safe travels, Trask,” he growls, a shadow flickering at his back.

My teeth grit. “Don’t call me that,” I spit, taking a step toward him and trying to make it out— a woman —but my body catapults backward.

I shout, clutching my bow to my chest, plummeting through endless stars. A gasp lurches from me as I slam down into Shard House’s foyer. I jump, a hand taking hold of my shoulder, whipping into a fighting stance before I see Omen.

The First Daughter vibrates before me, waves of starlight rippling over her stiff, black dress and dancing across the spiked cage of her head.

Sucking in a breath, I immediately drop to a knee and bow my head. Of course she’s here. She would’ve felt my travel between realms. Daughters aren’t allowed to do so without her express permission.

“My queen, it wasn’t intentional,” I promise. “I was taken by another.”

I know , Fate’s voice trickles into my skull. You were summoned into Never.

Thunder rumbles outside, too close to Shard House.

I stand, knowing she doesn’t have long. “There was a man. A prince. A king. I don’t know, but he wore a crown. He said he wanted your throne.”

My throne? Those were his exact words?

I frown. “He said ‘the throne’. What other throne is there?”

The starlight tangling over Omen vanishes.

I take a step forward. “My queen?”

Omen lifts a gloved hand, her shoulders caving in. She’s gone .

“What the fuck was that?” I demand.

The First Daughter shakes her head. Your focus is Synlon, Angel of Sin. You never should’ve been summoned.

“Don’t tell me not to worry about this.”

Rayze , she says, her voice exhausted as it tangles through my skull. This stays between you, Fate, and me. Do you understand?

“No. I don’t understand. If that man can summon a Daughter like that, then every single one of us should know who he is and how to escape his hold,” I insist. “He had me surrounded, Omen, and the power coming off of him, it—it—”

What? she asks.

“Is he a God?” I whisper, keeping my voice low as laughter rings out down the hall.

Why would you assume that?

I step closer, keeping my voice low. “I’ve never felt power like that.” I shake out my hands, my fingers trembling. “Not even from Fate.”

He’s not a God.

“There was someone else there,” I tell her. “A woman. She was shadowed.”

Omen presses her palm to my back, guiding me toward the hallway. I’ll take your suggestion to Fate on training the Daughters on how to handle a summoning, but for now, you let this go, Sin. We have too much at stake to pull your focus from The Serpent.

I run a hand through my hair with a heavy sigh. “What about Deimos?”

She removes her hand from my back. Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.

“You’re not staying?” I ask as boisterous howls sound off from the den. The Bond ruptures with delight, and my chest warms at the feel of Warrick.

Omen doesn’t answer. She sways a bit, but I don’t touch her. She’s never liked it. Enjoy these next few days, Rayze Angeline. They could be the last good days for some time.

“Stay,” I try. “Be with us.”

She takes a few steps back, pieces of her skirt already dissolving. Good night, Sin.

I lift a hand in a small wave. “Good night.”