Page 86 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Big Brother

Rayze

We land hand in hand among swishing grass, the sea breeze kissing our cheeks. The ocean crashes against the cliff at our backs, Squallspire a shining, sprawling beast yards away. My heart hammers as I stare at the front doors lined with Kraken cronies.

Warrick leads me along, my legs suddenly weighing hundreds of pounds. Every step toward those front doors, years old grief threatens to swallow me whole.

Then they open.

I freeze, and Warrick tugs to a stop. He backtracks a few steps, releasing my hand to press his palm to my back.

“Breathe, baby,” he mutters.

I inhale and close my eyes, the sound of the doors scraping open filling every cavity inside me. Fear inches across my skin, tightening every muscle.

It’s just a dining room.

There won’t be blood.

“Well, well,” Warrick says. He presses a firm kiss to my temple and steps away, striding across the cliff. “Look who lives in style,” he calls over the wind.

I slowly peel my lashes open, tears burning against my eyes as I watch Warrick walk up the front steps of Squallspire to where Aleksi rolls forward in her chair, a jug of ale fucking swaddled in her lap.

A laugh cracks out of me, seeing them bicker back and forth, my shoulders relaxing. I force a step, then three, working my way closer to my family.

“Maybe Squeak, then?” Warrick is saying, jerking her chair back and forth and causing the wheels to let out tiny screeches against the glossed, stone floor. “Dick, Fangs, Sin, and Squeak. It’s got a nice ring to it,” he sings.

“Fine. Fine .” Aleksi slaps at his hands against her chair, her blue eyes dark slits of frustration. “You can call me Red.”

His head snaps up toward me, beaming in victory. “You heard that, right? Tell me you heard that.” I nod, rolling my eyes, and he pokes her thigh. “So you can’t feel your legs?”

Aleksi shudders. “ Yes, I can feel them. It’s fucking painful actually. Like every nerve ending is on fire.”

He hums, tilting his head. “And your, um—” He waves his hand toward her Godsdamn vagina. “Because that would be a travesty, Red. Truly. If anyone needs to get laid, it’s you and your bad attitude.”

“ Warrick ,” I hiss.

But Aleksi laughs. There’s relief in her eyes, the kind I haven’t seen since the Blood Betrayal. “It’s okay. Nice, even,” she admits. “Warrick being a dick is normal. I like normal.”

He folds his arms, absolutely smug.

I shoulder past him, nodding to the Kraken cronies ignoring us. “Yours?” I ask Aleksi.

“Oh, right.” She lifts two fingers to her lips and whistles.

Cronies file in, sharing disgruntled looks.

“Dick, Sin,” Aleksi says to Warrick and I. She pauses, holding back another laugh. “Quite the pair you two are, aren’t you?” she mutters under her breath before she nods to the cronies.

“This is my crew,” she announces. “Crew, these are the assholes you allowed to walk up to my fucking operation unidentified.”

“They appeared from a portal,” one of them says, his brown hair a mop covering his eyes. “Figured they were yours.”

“Next time, Ziggy,” Aleksi grits out, “you double-fucking-check.”

More grumbles, some accompanied by, “Yes, Captain Skarne.”

“Alright.” She looks to me, her brow cocking behind her large glasses. “I’m assuming you’re here because Torren is dead?”

My eyes fall to the dining room just beyond, to the pristine table and the ornately carved chairs. I don’t know how long I stare, but I don’t pull my gaze away until Warrick and Aleksi both take my hands.

“He’s unconscious, Rayze,” Aleksi says. She squeezes my palm, then she takes her wheels and drives forward. “I’m working on waking him up, but my device isn’t ready yet.”

“So he won’t see me?” I ask as she leads us through familiar, haunted hallways. I rake in a shuddering breath. “Or talk to me?”

“Correct.” Aleksi stops outside a pair of double doors—the bedroom that once housed my mother.

Warrick lifts my knuckles to his mouth and kisses them softly. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

I shake my head and offer him a small smile. “I’ll meet you in the gardens. At our spot. Do you remember it?”

He wavers, the tiniest bit of pain shinning in his eyes. “I will,” he says, his voice rough.

I press onto my toes and grab his face, bringing his forehead to my lips. I kiss it gently and pull back. “You will,” I agree.

Warrick swallows, his throat bobbing, and steps back, grabbing the handles of Aleksi’s chair. “Let’s find a dark corner for you, shall we?”

“Excuse you? Take me to the kitchen, bitch. I’m starving.”

Warrick laughs. “Gods, you’re crabby when you lose your legs.”

“I’m working on something. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he says, turning his head over his shoulder to look at me. He slows his retreat. Are you sure you’re ready, my angel? he whispers along our Bond.

I shiver, starlight glowing around my palms at his presence in my mind. His voice is cold . Not in a bad way, but in the way I’ve always associated with the darkness between threads.

His power—I shake my head. A bridge to cross later.

I’ll be okay , I promise, turning my back to them.

I feel Warrick hesitate along the Bond. Then he moves on, his voice cracking a bit. “Tell me, Red. What’s your plan to get Fangs back?” he asks.

Their voices grow faint as I stare at the door, hovering a hand over the knob. I wait until I can no longer hear them.

Then I throw open the door and step inside.

Beautiful murals of the Sea of Veriyth span the walls, each crashing wave painted in sweeping strokes that catch the light like it’s alive.

Open-air archways frame the balcony beyond, columns worn smooth by wind and salt.

The ocean roars in the distance, the same dark, endless water I used to watch from that very ledge.

I stand there, boots scuffing old tile, and for a moment I’m small again. My mother’s voice drifts through the air like the hush of the sea.

She’d sit in the corner alcove, skirts pooled around her, the salt-heavy breeze tangling her hair as she read aloud. Stories of old captains and sea queens, of monsters that guarded lost treasures, her voice low and conspiratorial like she believed every word.

It was where I first heard the tale of the Angel of Sin.

I remember curling up against her side, tracing the painted waves on the wall with my fingers, trying to find where they ended and the real sea began. All of my sisters were usually around, too. The eight of us crowding the alcove and hanging onto every word of hope.

The room feels smaller now. Emptier.

Dust has gathered in the carved seams of the walls. Salt crusts the edges of the balcony. The murals are cracked in places, lines splintering through perfect waves like scars.

But I can still hear her laugh.

I exhale, breath hitching.

In the bed is my brother.

Ruel Trask lies with his head tilted back against several pillows, wires protruding from his skull. Dark curls are pinned back to expose slim, metal plates glowing softly in various places along his scalp.

His chest is bare, his Kraken ink sprawling over the expanse and etching up to his neck, stopping just below his jaw.

Little pads are pressed across his pecks, several over his heart, wires protruding from those, too, and leading to one of the multiple healing-rigs Aleksi’s crafted over the years—keeping tabs on his vitals.

I cross the space with caution, my coat sweeping behind me.

He looks peaceful. At ease. Even with the gnarled scarring of the lower half of his face, his brow isn’t furrowed like I remember it always being. The dark lashes over his one eye twitch, the other secured behind his patch.

I don’t know if I’ve missed him or if I hate him. I think it might be both. Knowing he hid the truth but also knowing he did look for me—maybe Warrick is right. I gave my snake a chance to redeem himself.

Fuck, Shard Daughters are not meant to forgive.

“Hey, big brother,” I say, the words scratching out of my throat.

I wet my lips, my hand trembling as I slide my palm into his. I twine my fingers between his limp ones grasping tight.

“I don’t know if—” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “Fuck.” I sniff and lift my free hand to push away the tears trekking down my cheeks.

“Ruel,” I start again, my chest squeezing. “It’s Hallie.”

His pinky ticks.

I blink down at our connected hands, not sure if I imagined it. “Um, I don’t know what the fuck to say,” I try and laugh through a sob, shoving the back of my hand against my mouth and biting down, shaking my head.

“Except, I guess,” I shrug. “Surprise, fucker. I’m alive,” I say, forcing a smile. “And I—”

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I’d really like to know you,” I whisper, hoarse with grief. “So when Ender turns that thing on that’s embedded in your head—do me a favor and wake the fuck up, okay?”

I peer through my lashes, my vision bleary with tears.

The machine on the far table releases a steady hiss of steam with each of his heartbeats.

I squeeze his hand. Then I let it go and take a step back.

“Dad’s dead, by the way,” I mutter. “You’re The Kraken. Try not to let it go to your head, alright?”

Another hiss of steam.

“That’s it.” I turn away, hurrying to leave the room, but I freeze in the doorway when the steam stops.

I whip back around, wiping tears from my eyes and hoping to see his open.

Then the machine continues its steady hiss.

I stare and stare, but there’s nothing except the steady dip of his chest. I lift my chin. “One more thing,” I say, hardening my voice.

I swear his fingers spasm.

“Warrick’s my family now. Lay a single fucking finger on him again,” I tell him, my eyes narrowing, “and I won’t hesitate to kill you. I don’t give second chances often, brother. Don’t take it for granted.”