Page 65 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

The Serpent

Warrick

The stench of blood curdles the air. It clings to the stone, seeping from the pulp that used to be Vandem. Pieces of him are everywhere. Bone jagged through skin. Guts split like rotten fruit.

My hands twitch at my sides.

Russell lies inches away. Slit and spent, his throat a ragged red mouth that won’t speak again.

Did I do that? I rake my fingers through my hair with a groan. No, I didn’t .

Volt. It’s still crawling. Still sparking in my head like loose wires. Every breath feels chewed through, thoughts clashing like rusted gears. There’s something else missing, too. Something that grew inside me until it was forced away. My skin itches. My blood screams.

I don’t know who I am, but I know who I want.

Who’s to blame.

I stumble out of the chamber, shoulder cracking off the stone archway. My legs are unsteady, my vision streaked at the edges with flickers of blue, but I catch the blur of her naked body as my devil dashes around a corner off-kilter.

I shove past the dead in the hallway. A few guards stare as I lunge by, and I bark through bared teeth, “Russell Ivor is dead. Grab that woman, and I’ll think about forgiveness.”

The silence that follows is short. Boots thunder behind me as they rush to the dungeon we’d been held in. Metal clatters. Orders are barked.

They’ll obey me. They have no choice. Every man in the line of succession had his life stolen tonight.

Every man except me.

My chest heaves.

The Serpent title—it’s mine .

Rayze

My legs are wet with blood, trembling with every step, but I force them forward through the corridor. Underground Palace . Dread isn’t a good enough word. The feeling in my stomach, the one dragging claws down my spine, it’s all-consuming.

If they found this place, this sanctuary, then they sure as fuck had access to the portals in the banquet hall. Only a Daughter can use them, but there were plenty here tonight—their bodies litter hollowed alcoves. It would’ve been easy for a crony to snatch one and force her to their will.

The portals were closed. Panicked breaths saw out of me. They wouldn’t be closed if we weren’t breached.

Cold stone turns to steel grating, and the passage veers upward. I round a corner—and slam straight into chrome.

Three guards. Fully armored.

They raise their weapons, and Volt coils in the air.

If I touch them, if I so much as breathe magic in their direction, it’ll rebound and eat me alive. Even with my power whole and beautiful, it’s straining with my injuries. I won’t withstand another Volt attack.

So I don’t aim for them. I aim for the ceiling.

My voice cuts sharp through the tunnel. “ Cave ,” I growl, my vision lurching sideways and my ears ringing.

Stone groans above us as my nose runs red. Blood slides into my mouth, my legs trembling. Then a brace beam snaps loose and collides into the guards.

They stagger, and I sprint between them, stumbling out of the last tunnel and into the banquet hall.

Bodies. Dozens of them.

The Saved—men, women, and children I risked everything to protect—they lie twisted across the marble floor, clothes torn, faces slackened mid-scream. Among them, just as I feared, are several Daughters.

My only solace is knowing those girls gave them hell and that hundreds must’ve escaped. The casualties here are too small for every Saved to be dead.

Cronies are strewn and dismembered, but young Daughters wouldn’t have been able to withstand Volt. The archway that usually holds the direct portal to Shard House stands empty, every mirror in the room smashed in from the fighting.

I step over a girl I once bathed, and my stomach rolls. Rage and grief pulse through me, but I force myself to latch to my emotion, to let it anchor my power and my waning adrenaline.

Aleksi , I chant through my mind. Get to Aleksi .

“Here, pretty devil,” Warrick’s voice sings at my back.

I careen toward the exit gates of the palace, glancing over my shoulder.

His silhouette storms from the corridor, dragging blue light behind him.

I veer into a side hall, and the smallest bit of relief flashes through me at the sight of my clothes and weapons crumpled up on the ground.

I shrug on my tank, hissing between my teeth in pain.

Then I shrug on my trench, my bow rattling against my back, and fumble to pull up my pants with my broken hands, bending awkwardly and biting into the fabric.

I drag them up the best I can with my teeth and elbows.

My throat tightens as I stare down at my arrows lining my coat, wishing they were of nay use to me. My hands —I shake my head. One problem at a time. Aleksi. Find Aleksi.

Warrick’s hum sweeps toward me.

My pulse pounds. I secure the pants and hurry toward a stairwell, my bare feet scraping over the steps. I breach the top, met with the sound of thunder and rain as I spy the open mouth to the Underground ahead.

Then my favorite head of wild, orange hair.

“Aleksi,” I try and drop at my sister’s side.

She slumps in the shadows, her lips pale. She breathes—barely.

I slip behind the veil, fingers trembling. The threads of the tunnel brighten around me as I focus away from her bleeding hip and on gravity.

I can’t lift her, but magic can.

It must.

I duck my shoulder against her stomach, blood smearing down from my nose as I tug against the threads surrounding us.

“Pull,” I command, and my magic ties around Ender’s weight, easing it. Not all of it, but it’ll have to be enough.

I grunt and heave her from the ground.

The rattle of the Chrome Guards and Warrick breaches the staircase into the main tunnel.

I waver, vision blurring at the edges. Every step is a prayer not to collapse, rain drenching us as I slosh through the trench, past our broken wagons, and up the ramp leading to the main streets.

Warrick

Rain slams down. Heavy. Icy. Mud sucks at my boots. Bodies float. Behind me, a handful of Serpents follow, but I don’t kid myself. I don’t have their loyalty—only their fear. They look at my violence, and they bow to it because that’s what they were raised to do.

But my violence, it’s not about succession or legacy.

No. It’s about her.

She did something to me.

She broke me.

My mind stutters and slips, memories crashing. The good ones—her laugh, her voice, the way she looked at me—they feel warped now. Like every smile she gave me was a lie. Every touch a manipulation.

Volt coils tighter. My head throbs. I try to hold onto the image of her, but it twists each time I grasp it. Her voice sounds different in my mind now. Sharper. Crueler.

A low, metallic groan rips through the clouds like a hinge breaking open, and I lift a fist, all of us halting as our gazes snap above.

More of The Kraken’s fleet arrive.

Ships crest through storm clouds as behemoths of scorched brass. Lightning flickers through glass tubes strung along their undersides, casting blue light that ripples over rooftops. Steam hisses from their flanks in controlled bursts, silent compared to the shrieks of wind and steel.

They lean toward the streets.

Iron rungs slam down. Boarding ladders. Hooks. Nets weighted with crew. Pirates drop, boots slamming into asphalt. They’re not just claiming air space. Now they fill the streets.

Atop The Dredge, a flag unfurls, whipping black against the top-most windows, The Kraken’s crest stark through the rain.

Pirates crowd toward us.

Fuck.

“Retreat,” I mutter, my gaze searching desperately for my devil, but she’s gone. I swallow my anger and bark the order over my shoulder. “Retreat, fuckers, unless you want to die.”

The Chrome Guards turn to move, to do as I say—

Then all of Synlon goes black, our power supply atop The Dredge taken by our enemy.