Page 59 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

His Devil

Warrick

A fist slams into my gut.

I gag, air punched from my lungs, and a mangled sound claws up my throat. Through swollen eyes, I stare at blood-stained stone. My head lolls sideways, my mouth dry as ash, and I catch vines overhead.

White flowers splattered crimson.

Along the far wall, torture weapons dangle. Their edges are crusted in dried blood, scraps of flesh still clinging.

I know this place. I know its rage.

Underground Palace. The dungeon.

“Good. He’s finally awake. That means the bitch should be ready, too,” Vandem growls nearby. “I’ll go get her.”

I try to lift a hand, but leather slices into my wrists and ankles. Chains bite across my chest, anchoring me in place.

I’ve been stripped and bound to a chair.

I tip my weight, hard , but the chair doesn’t budge, bolted to the floor.

A second punch lands, and I curse, blinking away drowsiness to find four Volt-powered cronies in Chrome Guard armor and my father.

“Russell,” I snarl, cracking my neck.

The Serpent slinks from the shadows in matching chrome, his gaze reflecting with sinister victory.

“Out,” he snaps to the cronies taking turns beating me awake.

The dungeon door groans shut behind them. Screams echo through the arched stone hallways.

Then my father’s voice bears down upon me. “What a fucking disappointment you are.”

Before me is another chair. An empty chair.

Vandem’s words work their way around my throat. There’s only one language my father speaks fluently. Only one way this ends for Rayze.

No.

No .

I rip against my chains and spit at Russell’s boots. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”

“I’ll do more than that.” There’s a finality to the words. The kind I know he won’t waver from.

Russell turns to the wall of weapons, his steps slow. Deliberate. He lets his fingers trail across the tools. “She’s used all of these on me,” he says. “Which one should I fuck her with?”

He nudges a scalpel, sets it swinging like a pendulum, as sure as our time running out.

“You sick bastard ,” I growl.

A door behind me slams open.

Rayze. Naked. Unconscious. Tossed over Vandem’s shoulder like a toy.

Angel angel ANGEL—

I buck and yell toward my father, but his eyes are on his devil.

Vandem dumps her into the chair across from me. Her body hits the metal with a sickening thud, limp and pale, beautiful flesh mapped in bruises, swelling, and gashes.

Pipe clenched between his teeth, the Commander of the Chrome Guard takes a slow drag, blue smoke curling from his lips as he kneels and straps her wrists down, her hands darkened and limp.

“I want her awake,” Russell orders. “Keep her legs undone.”

I’m dying. I’m fucking dying.

Wake up, angel , I plead along our Bond. Baby, please wake up .

Vandem pockets the slender, glass body of his pipe and yanks chains from the wall.

My father tilts his head. “I want her left wide open for me.”

“Don’t,” I breathe, but my voice cracks. “Please. I am begging you.” I slam my palms against the armrests. “I’ll do anything. You want loyalty? Blood? I’ll give it.”

I yank my ankles against the leather, the straps pulling but not enough. I haul harder, again and again, until I feel it give—just slightly. Skin tears. Blood smears.

But I don’t stop.

Vandem clicks the final lock into place on Rayze, chains cinching tight around her torso.

“Pick a weapon, Warrick,” Russel says. He gestures to the wall before he turns to Rayze and runs his eyes over her breasts. “Or Vandem and I can take turns seeing what made her worth betraying Serpents.”

My stomach lurches. Bile burns acidic and hot.

“The Storm and The Kraken threaten our city, and you’re worried about a girl?” I snarl, trying to pull his focus from anything but hurting my angel.

“They wouldn’t be here if The Accords were still intact,” Russell spits, venom lacing every word.

He crowds me, fingers digging into my forearms hard enough to bruise. “My own fucking son. A Blood Betrayer.”

Then he tilts his head, eyes gleaming. “But it’s worse than that, isn’t it?” His smile widens. “Yes. Yes. You played with them. Played in the mirrors and now—”

His pupils blow wide. Volt dances across his lips. “Now your little consolation prize gets taught a lesson.” His grip tightens. “Pretty, violent thing with that sharp little tongue, strutting like she’s untouchable. Until—”

He drags his fingers across his lips with a moan. “ Lightning . Spark on my tongue. Spark in my mind. It’s only pieces, maybe, but I remember.”

He straightens and peels off his armor. He drops one plate at a time, eyes dipping over me. He wants me to cower. To flinch.

Never.

Then he reaches for his belt. “I. Fucking. Remember.”

My chest hollows. “I will take you apart piece-by-motherfucking-piece and make you watch,” I threaten and slam against my chains.

The back left leg of the chair creaks, and I quickly find more words to cover the sound.

“You will never die,” I spit. “Just be a torn, broken, bleeding thing until she decides it’s enough.”

But he isn’t listening.

The Serpent circles my chair, slow and methodical.

“The Storm and The Kraken have us surrounded. The Accords are broken. I’m already dead.” He slides his belt from his pants with a sharp crack. “I may as well enjoy my last moments, don’t you think?”

I slam forward again and feel the chair tilt. It’s not much, but it’s something. The bindings around my ankles loosen. I know I could stand if the chair wasn’t bolted.

The thought is stolen by my father’s belt around my neck.

I choke, my chin yanked up and back.

“That’s better. No weapon needed. Just your eyes,” Russell growls against my ear. “Watch, my boy. She’s denied her fate long enough. Oh, my Hallie.”

The Bond weeps.

“My beautiful Hallie,” he breathes, ragged and desperate. “ Why did you leave me?”

“Hallie?” I rasp.

Hallie .