Page 87 of The Shard and the Serpent (Shard Daughters #1)

Rayze

The garden basks in the last warmth of the day, perched high above the crashing sea.

Sunlight spills in long, golden shafts through the arches of wind-carved stone, catching on wild blooms that spill from tiered planters and coil around twisted iron railings.

The air hums with the faint sound of wind chimes strung between pillars, their soft notes mingling with the distant roar of the waves far below.

Then I find him, and I freeze at the entry to my old clearing.

Warrick sits on the same rock he always did, a Serpent blade drawn and a branch in his hands. He carves away at it, oblivious to me watching him. I take a step back into the shadows, peering around the leaves of the tall, maze-like shrubs caging in the small target practice area.

He hums to himself, instinct whittling away at the branch until it begins to take the shape of an arrow. He pauses, lifting a knowing look in my direction. His lips curve with a small smile. “Come out, come out, my vicious voyeur.”

I take a step into the sunlight. It feels strange to stand here after all these years. So much of my childhood was spent in this alcove of the garden, dreaming of heroic adventures and saving the realm.

Little did that girl know what was in store for her. I wonder if she would be proud of me. There is— so much blood on my hands. Even the blood of the ones I love.

Warrick sets down his work and lifts from the rock. His hands find my hips, pulling me further into the clearing. He dips his face, his eyes searching mine. “What’s going on in there?”

I hesitate. “We’ve got so much fucking work to do, Warrick,” I admit. “Synlon is in shambles. Your mind is far from being healed. The Daughters—” I wince. “Shard House was attacked during the Blood Betrayal. There were forty casualties.”

His fingers dig into my hips. “Russell?”

“Vandem.”

He tugs me into his chest, wrapping a palm against the back of my head. “Are you okay?”

An exhausted laugh breaks from my throat. “I don’t know. With every problem I solve, it feels like a hundred more arise.”

“If anyone can handle it, it’s you,” he tells me. “ Us . You don’t have to do any of it alone, angel. Synlon is ours to rehabilitate. My mind will heal. Shard House will, too. You’ve earned a minute to just bask in the glow of the good we’ve done.”

“I collapsed half the fucking city.”

I feel him smile against my forehead. “Yeah. Maybe not your best moment. If it helps, I can seemingly snap half a dozen necks at once.”

I wet my lips. “Remind not to piss you off until we figure that out.”

“Baby, I love it when you piss me off.”

“Warrick.” I heave an unsteady breath and pull back, shaking my head. “If this is a win, then why doesn’t it feel like it?”

“Because you keep denying the aftermath sex,” he rumbles, a brow lifting.

I snort. “Your pathetic. I’m trying to be serious.”

“I’m tenacious,” he corrects. Then he drops his mouth to my ear, setting chills rolling down my spine, “And I’m so fucking in love with you that I’ve every intention of making sure you know just how much you won today.”

I laugh as he takes my hand and rushes me out of the garden, heading up the steps to Squallspire. “What are you up to?”

“I do believe,” he says, dragging me along, “you owe me a date.”

“ A date? Warrick we’ve practically fucked each other to the moon and back.”

He glances over his shoulder with wide eyes. “You think we could actually do that? You know, with your flying?”

“I can’t fly. Not technically,” I argue, but I’m smiling. “It’s more like manipulating gravitational forces to my command.”

“Which technically means we can fuck in the Godsdamn clouds,” he says and lets out a low whistle. “You’re right. Let’s skip the date.”

I chew on my lip. “I don’t know. I was kind of curious.”

He grins, his eyes glistening, and jogs us toward the cliff edge. My boots crush long, tangling grass, the green tips swatting at my fingertips.

“Are you finally saying yes to a date with me, Rayze Angeline?” he asks, stopping where the cliff juts out over the water. He turns to face me. “If that’s the case, do me a favor and portal us to our city.”

Our city . I like that. A lot. I step into him and push onto my toes. “Okay,” I whisper against his mouth, his lips sinking against mine in the same instant I summon the portal. I wrap my arms around his neck, rain drenching us as Rathem’s golden-hour trades for Synlon’s constant storm.

Our boots touch down on a rooftop, and we pull apart, holding hands as we look out across the mess of toppled buildings and wandering civilians.

“Godsdamn,” he murmurs. “Please tell me we can use magic to clean some of this up.”

“Discreetly? Maybe,” I say, leaning my head into his shoulder.

“Thank fuck,” he says, and we both laugh softly, rain curtaining around us, its cold as familiar as his embrace has become.

I never thought I’d have this, being held and knowing I’m truly loved. Then the Daughters, and now Warrick. I stare out across the city, and for once, I actually see what he saw all those weeks ago. Yeah, it’s a fucking mess, but it’s our mess , and we get to be the ones to rebuild it.

“So, is this it?” I ask, smirking. “Your grand date? I really thought there’d be wooing involved.”

“Oh, trust me, the wooing is on the way. I’m building up to it.

First, I had to show you our fixer-upper is indeed a fixer-upper and not a lost cause,” he explains and gestures across the skyline.

“Half those buildings were built on old foundations. It’s why they fell so easily when The Dredge hit them.

Now I’m thinking we clear out the lots and build rehabilitation centers for Skin and training centers to reeducate cronies. ”

I straighten, eyeing him. “Is that all?”

Warrick grins. “I want Synlon self-sustainable, and the Skin Trade reconfigured into something fucking ethical. This city may not seem like much, but thanks to you and your magical sisters, we’re closest to where the storms powering the realm spawn.

If we can find a way to capitalize on that, we’ll have the other Bosses begging for an alliance. ”

I study him. “You’ve actually thought about this.”

“Oh, I see the confusion.” He clears his throats and flashes a broad smile, tugging on every fucking heart string. “I do, in fact, have a brain to go along with all this beauty.”

I force a gasp and cover my mouth. “Gods, I never would’ve known.”

He chuckles, water dripping from his hair and trailing down the sharp edges of his face. A hush falls around us as we look at each other, his cocky smile waning toward something more timid.

My stomach dips and flutters, our new Bond warming in a way I swear our old one never did. It doesn’t feel forced our unnatural. It feels perfect . Meant to be. Like finally the stars are in my favor and maybe I don’t have to be so scared of a life beyond pain and rage.

“I fucking love you, too,” I say, my voice hoarse.

His lips part, his eyes scraping over every inch of me. My thighs clench, a blush heating my chest, but my brows pull together when he takes a step back.

Warrick’s eyes flit past my shoulder like he’s looking at my bow before his gaze drifts down to my coat. Then he reaches inside and plucks an arrow free, twirling it between his fingers, emotion bright in his eyes.

“For always, angel,” he says, his throat working. “Just do me a favor and don’t fucking aim these at me anymore.”

My heart skips a beat. I take a timid step toward him. “No promises,” I whisper.

“Not an angel at all then, are you?” he murmurs, the words healing the heart of a small girl I thought was forever lost. He straightens and drags me against him, the blue in his eyes brightening beneath a flash of lightning above.

He kisses me softly, adoringly, holding me in a way I know will never, ever hurt.

“Please, vicious,” he breathes between my lips. “Spare me. I’m desperate to spend however long I have left wielding myself at your side.”

Just like that—I’m consumed.

END OF BOOK ONE