Chapter 8 · Shard Fever

"Get the hell away from me!" I screamed, backing into the peeling wallpaper of the hallway.

My skin wasn't just hot—it was vibrating. The Saint Shard the dealer had shoved into my palm before he died was doing more than just glowing; it was eating me alive. I could feel the divinity pulsing like a second heartbeat, jagged and violent, trying to graft itself back into my broken core.

Kael didn't listen. He stepped closer, his heavy boots thudding on the floorboards, his eyes locked on the shimmering gold light leaking through the gaps in my fingers.

"You're shaking, Sera. Give it to me before you burn the building down," he commanded. His voice was low, that same arrogant tone he used when he was reminding me who held the leash.

"I'm fine!" I snapped, though my knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my breath coming in ragged, scorching gasps. "I can... I can handle it. I used to be the one who *gave* these out, remember?"

"You used to be a Saint. Now you're a liability with a fever," Kael said. He was right in front of me now. He didn't reach for the Shard first.