Embodied: hellhound shifter romance (Coven of the Raven Book 3)

by Shona Husk

  Her fingers strayed to the cat. It purred as though everything was right in the world. Except it never would be. She knew things that few wanted to believe. She glanced at Peyton from beneath her lashes. “Can you really…” She waved her hand over her face. Was he a werewolf?

  He nodded. “I was bitten by a hellhound a few years ago. I don’t usually shift but there are side effects around the full moon.”

  “Side effects?”

  “My hair and nails grow really quickly.”

  “Wait, hellhound?” How was that even thing? Did they actually roam the streets?

  “They exist, not usually on this plane of existence, but my coven and I were trying to catch one before it could kill again and I got bitten and almost died from the bite. It’s a story best told over coffee, if you really want to know.”

  She wasn’t sure she did, but it was a little late for that. “I’m a witch now, aren’t I?”

  “You always were, but you kept it suppressed.”

  That summed up her life before. It wasn’t just her magic that had been suppressed—it was everything.

  Peyton extended his hand and she accepted his offer of help up. “Did you want something a little easier to wear? Not saying the sheet doesn’t look good. Very Greek of you.”

  She glared at him. “Got another pair of trackpants and a tee?”

  He pulled the clothes out of his drawers and handed them to her. “I’ll get the coffee happening.”

  “Thank you. For everything. I know you tried to help even when I didn’t want it.”

  “Godly beings can be very seductive with their power. Losing it hurts.” He turned and left the room, leaving her to slip on his clothes. She tightened the drawstring on the pants so they weren’t precariously held up by her hips, but other than being a little long they fit better than a sheet and were far more comfortable than the dress. She draped the dress on the end of the bed, her fingers running over the delicate fabric. The cost would’ve been astronomical. Freya may not have burned up her soul, but her credit rating would be toast.

  It was only then she realized that she had no idea what time or what day it was. Had she missed dinner with her parents? Did she still have a job? Or had her life completely imploded while she’d given up control?

  Coffee first.

  This was not how she’d imagined waking up in Peyton’s bed. But who imagined being embodied by a goddess?

  Peyton put the coffee on the counter and made a second cup for himself while he waited for Alexis to come out of his room. It was late afternoon. And while he’d let the coven know what had happened, they’d still have to go down there. Alexis would have to start her training before she put herself, or anyone else, in danger. Then there was the contract he’d spent the day writing while he’d been waiting for her to wake up. He wasn’t quite ready to broach that subject.

  “Being a witch has to have some benefits, right? Or you wouldn’t do it.” She sat on the stool at the kitchen counter and dumped a teaspoon of sugar into her coffee before taking a sip. “I mean, a broomstick would be so much cheaper than catching a cab. Park it in the broom closet…or by the door.” She nodded at his.

  “Yeah, but riding one in winter is chilly and dogs tend to chase you.”

  She stared at him.

  He smiled. “There are no flying broomsticks. Magic either comes from you or your goddess, and flying isn’t easy magic. It’s a show-off skill more than anything.” He’d done it once just to prove a point, and the landing had been rather messy.

  “Right…so why would anyone want to be a witch?”

  He shrugged. “Some of us never had a choice.” He hadn’t; he’d been born a witch, but he’d chosen to continue. Magic was a part of him he wasn’t willing to surrender.

  “I could’ve gone my whole like without knowing?”

  “People do… Sometimes an accident or other trauma brings the magic to the surface and then they need help, but most know something is missing from their lives without ever working out what.” Centuries ago witches would’ve sought out those people and trained them. People would’ve known the signs to watch for. All that was lost. He understood Freya’s need to be in the world even if he didn’t agree with the method.

  Alexis drank the rest of her coffee in silence. “Do I still have a job?”

  “You had a family emergency and had to take the week off.”

  “Thank you. I feel like I’ll be thanking you forever.”

  He wanted to say he was just doing his job, but it was more than that. “Witches look after their own, Alexis. You’re part of my coven now.”

  “I don’t get to back out, do I?” Her hands were clasped around the cup like it was a lifeline.

  “No, and at the moment you need extra protection because there is a gap within you left by Freya that makes you vulnerable.”

  “And She’ll be back, won’t She?”

  He nodded. “I’ve drafted the contract. You can read through it.”

  “You actually write contracts for gods.”

  “Among other things, yes. My talent lies in blood magic, and that’s what makes the contracts binding.” But he wasn’t limited to that anymore. He could participate again in coven workings, and he didn’t think anyone would mind if a partial shift happened during a ritual. He would have his life back how it used to be…well, almost. He had no idea how his inner hellhound would affect the magic the Morrigu gave him, but he was looking forward to finding out.

  Alexis nodded slowly, as if trying to process what he was saying.

  “How about you finish the coffee and I take you and the cat home.”

  “The cat… Was that one of the ones that killed people?”

  “Maybe. But the cat was just obeying Freya, and animals tend to obey without thinking of the consequences. They live in the moment.” He didn’t hold a grudge against the cat.

  She swiveled on the stool and looked at the cat that was sitting in the center of his rug. He’d put his living room back together. No one would believe him if he’d said two goddesses had a fight in there. While the coffee table balanced on its broken leg, it was nothing that a little superglue wouldn’t fix.

  “I’m pretty sure it stood watch.” She shuddered and glanced away. “I think I just read its mind.”

  “Possible.”

  “Great. Can my life get any weirder?”

  Peyton didn’t say a word, because the answer was yes.

  Peyton sat in Mason’s office. They’d invite Alexis and Freya in to sign the contract soon, but Mason had wanted to see him first.

  “I’m glad you changed your mind about walking away.”

  It was less of a change of mind and more of a coming to terms with himself and the changes that had happened. It had only been a few days and he was still feeling the changes of having the hellhound integrate with him. His sense of smell was better, his hearing too.

  And it was entirely possible he was a little hairier. His chest was definitely hairier.

  “I don’t think She wanted me to quit.”

  “You don’t say?” Mason smiled. “She was testing you.”

  “I know.”

  “I wanted Her to.”

  “Why?” He knew Mason couldn’t have known what the test would be, but that he’d asked the Morrigu to push without telling him…that was underhand.

  “I want to hand the running of the coven to you. I want to step back to just teaching. I don’t want to be the head witch when my kid joins officially.”

  “When did you decide this?”

  “About four years ago.”

  “Before I was bitten or after?”

  “Just before. I needed to know you weren’t like your father.”

  “I could’ve told you that.”

  “No you couldn’t. You didn’t know everything he’d been up to and I didn’t want to be the one to tell you.”

  Whatever his father had been up to probably hadn’t been good. “My mother shattered the rose-colored glasses I
had about him when I finished law school.” That was when he’d learned of the affairs. She’d said he was just like him, and it hadn’t been a compliment. “I have done everything to not be like him.”

  Mason shook his head. “Your father tried to take over the coven, and when he didn’t get his way, he walked away.”

  “My father hated coming here.” Especially when it became very apparent that Peyton had an abundance of talent.

  “He liked the power not the magic, and we wouldn’t let him do what he wanted. He thought he could use magic to manipulate people.”

  “That’s—”

  “Why he had a heart attack.”

  Peyton leaned back in the chair. He’d known his father could be a bastard and he loved to throw his money around, but one couldn’t use magic in the same way, especially not magic channeled directly from a goddess.

  And now Peyton had the primal magic of a hellhound in his blood. His affinity with shadows and shapeshifting was growing. What else would he be able to do next week, or next year? “You wanted to see what I would do with extra power.”

  “That was how She chose to test you. Neither of us thought you’d consider walking away from all magic.”

  “I don’t want to run the coven. I don’t think I’d make a very good leader.”

  “You will make a fine leader. The others look up to you and you can keep Sawyer honest.”

  “That’s a full-time job.”

  “And I’m too old to do it. I’m ready to step back. Are you ready to step up?”

  He wasn’t, but Mason did deserve to spend more time with his family and less time with the coven. The Morrigu wasn’t evil, and Mason had given Her his pound of flesh. Peyton nodded. “Three month transition?”

  “That sounds reasonable. I’ll still be part of the coven. I’m not giving up magic.”

  Quitting magic was far harder than it sounded.

  “Shall I call Alexis?”

  “Yes, let’s do this.” Mason shook his head. “We really need to start looking for witches before they get up to their necks in trouble.”

  Peyton stood. “Maybe you can do that in your new spare time.”

  Mason laughed, but it was something that had been talked about before. Too many with witch blood found themselves in trouble, and often it was too late to help them.

  Peyton got Alexis from the reception area where she’d been talking to Noah. This wasn’t her first visit, but it was the official one. The first one had been to show her where it was and to introduce her to the witches and partners, as well as tell her the rules and her responsibilities, which included no more going to her friend’s “coven” because it was too dangerous for everyone else to have an actual witch there.

  Tomorrow she’d be back at work and they’d go back to seeing each other every day, but he didn’t want things to go back to how they were.

  She had the cat with her in a new carrier.

  The cat would be Freya’s proxy when they summoned Her.

  Mason made the circle and summoned Freya; the Morrigu was close by. While Peyton couldn’t see Her, he could feel Her cool feathers on the back of his neck.

  Peyton offered Alexis the knife so she could cut her thumb. He’d explained this to her after she’d read the contract, and he’d made sure she understood what it meant and why it had happened. She didn’t look thrilled and he didn’t blame her.

  But she cut her thumb and a bright splash of red splashed onto the page. It didn’t soak into the paper. She used the raven feather to dip into the blood and sign her name. Only then was the blood absorbed. She released the cat from the carrier and it jumped onto the table and put a paw on the knife to hold it steady before pressing the pad of the other food to the pointed tip. The cat made a bloody paw print on the page.

  “Oooh.” Alexis stared at the cat. The cat licked its paw then jumped back into her lap. Her hand hovered over it for a moment before she gave it a pat.

  There was a rustle of wings and Mason let the circle go.

  Contract signed and binding. Not even a goddess would break that. There were penalties, but Peyton had never asked for the details of how the deities policed their own. He didn’t want to know.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later

  She’d gotten the PA job and the smile wouldn’t leave her face. With Peyton leaving at the end of the week to run the Uncommon Raven Agency, she was glad that she was also moving on. But sad that she wouldn’t be able to see him every day. There was still the coven, but that wasn’t what she wanted either. She knocked on his office door, needing to share her news.

  “Come in.”

  His office was so tidy as he moved toward finishing up.

  “I got the job.”

  “Congratulations!” He offered his hand and she shook it.

  “After everything that’s happened I thought for sure they’d over look me.”

  “You’ll be great.”

  She nodded, not sure what else to say. His desk was clear now, not like when she’d sat on the corner and started unbuttoning his shirt. She’d been waiting for him to ask her out this week…maybe that was her mistake. If Freya had taught her anything it was that she shouldn’t wait, she should act. “We should go out and celebrate.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Yes, like a date. I’ll grow old waiting for you.”

  “I was going to ask you on my last day.”

  “It’s only a few days. Let them talk.” She got up and walked around the desk, then sat in front of him. “I’m going to kiss you. I don’t think we’ve kissed just the two of us.”

  On Saturday Freya was going to be paying a visit, she knew that her inhibitions would fall and there was a good chance she’d be waking up in Peyton’s bed. She wanted to do that without a goddess-induced hangover first.

  She leaned in and put her hands on his shoulders, then brushed her lips over his. His hands went to her waist and he pulled her closer to straddle his lap. The kiss deepened. And for a moment, it was easy to forget about magic and witches.

  “You know, maybe tonight we can get take out at my place,” he murmured against her lips. “We can still have champagne.”

  “That sounds perfect.” She kissed him again and ruffled his fingers through his hair. He needed a haircut again. The few grays that had appeared at his temples had vanished, and every so often the light would catch his eyes and she’d remember that he wasn’t all human. But she didn’t care. Once a lunar cycle, she was a goddess.

  I hope you enjoyed reading Embodied. The first two books in the Coven of the Raven series are available now (read on for excerpts) and Sawyer’s book, Stolen, is next.

  Please consider leaving a review of Embodied in your favorite place such as Goodreads.

  Happy reading

  Shona

  Excerpt: Cursed

  The house was silent as Mylla went through every room of the large, old place and closed the curtains. In the music room she paused for a moment to stare out into the yard. The dark shapes of trees loomed out of the dusk, but beyond them through the tangle of shrubs and overgrown grasses were statues. A shiver ran down her back. They were too life like. From here it almost looked like a garden party that never moved or was waiting for permission to move. They gave her the creeps. That was why she didn’t spend much time in the yard. She frowned. Did she ever go into the yard?

  She tried to force thoughts into her mind, to raise a memory of something that had meaning. It was so hard to remember and think beyond the tasks assigned to her.

  Cook the meals, clean the house. Every day the same until she couldn’t tell one from another. She could have been here a week or years. But she’d been keeping track and knew the truth even though it didn’t make sense.

  “Mylla.”

  She jumped at the sound of his voice and turned.

  He looked at her, his stare hard and piercing, as if he could see into her soul, and all the thoughts she’d been trying to gather scattered like fallen leaves in
a breeze. She wanted to run after them, catch them and hold them close, but not while he was watching. He couldn’t know. Yet why she knew that she couldn’t explain, only that if he knew she had her own thoughts he would take them away. She was sure he made her forget things, but she couldn’t remember enough to confirm her own suspicions.

  “You will need to prepare the servants’ quarters. I have advertised for a gardener.”

  She nodded. The order felt familiar and filled her with equal parts hope and dread. Had he made her do that before? He must have.

  “Is there anything you’d like to ask?”

  She swallowed. There was so much she wanted to ask, and yet she couldn’t make the words. They wouldn’t come. Questions were dangerous. Instead her reply was wooden and simple, as he expected. “No, Sir.”

  Her voice. She still had one. She wanted to dance but didn’t know how. She wanted to say something else just to hear her voice again; it was so rare she spoke. Her lips opened. Mr. Quigley was staring at her as if daring her.

  Mylla closed her mouth and ducked her head. It was better to be silent. Pretend that she didn’t have enough of a mind to remember things and know something wasn’t right. Even if she didn’t know what right was.

  “When you are finished with your jobs, bathe and come to my room.” Mr. Quigley smiled and it stirred memories that she thought lost. They swam at the murky depths of her mind for just a moment before sinking back into the gloom as if they’d never existed. But they had been there, she was sure of it. Why else would she fear going to his room at night?

  Why else would her stomach knot and tremble?

  She nodded even though she wanted to say no. Her toes gripped the inside of her shoes, a tiny movement that she controlled. Again, that was important. But it was also important he didn’t know. Later she’d read the notes she’d made in secret in the book and remember to make another mark on the wall behind her chest of drawers, and she’d remind herself that she shouldn’t look this young when the marks on the wall said she’d been there for twenty years.