The Hellhound's Witch Mate

Prologue

Tempest

“Come now,” a soft female voice called. “Wake up, child.”

Blinking up at the sky, I tried to make out the stars through the smoke. Why is there smoke? Then I remembered, and I struggled to sit up. “He’s coming!”

A hand came down on my shoulder, keeping me where I was. “He’s not coming. You’re safe.”

My gaze sliced to the owner of that calm voice. Her hair was gray and softly curled around her wrinkled face. Her eyes were warm and golden brown, and looking into them made me feel safe. I glanced down to my pajamas. They were covered in blood and ash, and one of the knees was torn.

Mom wouldn’t want me to greet a guest in this state. And it was bad manners not to offer a visitor refreshments. I turned toward the house. It was mostly gone, and the walls still standing were black and charred like logs that hadn’t completely burned up in a fireplace.

Pain shot through my leg as I climbed to my feet, but I didn’t show it—we must never show when we’re hurt, we must never let anyone see. I smiled instead. Mom always said a smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

“Please excuse my appearance,” I said to the female beside me. “I haven’t had time to freshen up. I wish I could offer you a light repast or a hot beverage, but as you see, our house has burned down.”

The female smiled. “Yes, I see that.”

A polite handshake would have to do. I held out a hand to take hers and realized mine was covered in blood and dirt and quickly dropped it to my side.

Mom had taught me how to greet a new acquaintance.

Now she was gone. I was the mistress of the house, what was left of it, and it was up to me.

I straightened, keeping my smile wide. “I beg your pardon. I haven’t even given you my name. I am Tempest Merryweather.”

The older female’s smile brightened. Mom never told me her name, she just called her the crone, but calling her that seemed impolite. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Merryweather. My name is Matilda the Wise. Did your mother tell you to expect me?”

Mom’s trembling voice filled my head now.

She’d woken me in the middle of the night, telling me to hide, to message the crone and tell her to come for me.

My eyes stung, but I refused to cry. It was impolite to burden others with one’s emotions; it also wouldn’t change anything.

“She did. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Wise. ”

Her smile softened. “Was it you who messaged me to come, child?”

I’d done exactly what Mom instructed. She also told me to trust the crone when she came, that she’d help me. “Yes.”

“That was very brave of you. And please, you may call me Matilda.”

I smiled brighter and rubbed my hands on my pajama pants, trying to wipe away the blood. “And you may call me Tempest, or Temp, whatever you prefer.”

“Thank you kindly.” She held out her hand. “Come now, Tempest. It’s time to go.”

I looked at the house again, and a lump grew in my throat. The house was gone. “Mom…is she?” I knew the answer—I’d seen for myself—but I didn’t want it to be true.

The crone nodded, her eyes full of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Temp.” She wiggled her fingers, asking me again to take her hand. “We need to leave now.”

“Where are we going?” I said as I curled my fingers around hers. She didn’t seem to mind the blood, and her skin was warm and incredibly soft.

“Somewhere safe. Where no one can hurt you.”

“But Mom… We can’t just leave her.” She needed a proper burial.

“The goddess Tera will claim her. The mother will protect her and return her to the earth. Your mother isn’t afraid anymore, Tempest, and she’s not alone. She’s free, and she can rest in peace knowing you’re safe now as well.”

My eyes stung again, and I tried to swallow the lump growing in my throat. I was glad Mom was safe now, that she wasn’t alone. I looked up at the crone. “I don’t want to be scared anymore, Matilda.”

“I’ll make sure you’re never afraid again, Tempest.”

Matilda appeared small and frail at first sight, but she walked like someone powerful.

She wasn’t stooped. She didn’t move slowly, or walk with a limp like other crones I’d met.

And instead of drab brown and gray clothes, she wore a full-length lemon-yellow dress covered in blue roses, a hand-knitted blue cardigan, and sturdy brown boots.

Her handbag was green with pink flowers, and she opened it now and pulled out a doorknob.

What an odd thing to carry in a handbag.

I didn’t say that, though, that would be rude.

The thing looked old, like it hadn’t been polished in a very long time.

“I have someone special I’d like you to meet.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “My familiar. His name’s Manfred, but he answers to Manny as well.”

“Is he a dog?” I’d always wanted a dog. “I don’t have a familiar yet.”

“He’s quite a bit bigger than a dog,” she said as she led me to the garden shed and stopped at the door. “And yours will come to you when the time is right.”

I hoped so. “Bigger than a dog? Like a horse?”

She chuckled. “You’ll just have to see for yourself.” She placed the old doorknob against the wood and a bright, warm glow radiated from around it.

“What’s it doing?” I asked before I thought to hold my tongue.

She smiled and didn’t seem annoyed or angry that I’d asked the question. “With this…you can open any door, and you can go anywhere you like.”

“Really?” My magic had grown quite strong, but nothing like that. “Will you show me how to do it?”

“If you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” I’d never be locked in a room ever again if I could do that. I could escape whenever I needed to.

Matilda opened the door, and I gasped. There were no seed trays or garden tools or bags of potting mix. I wasn’t looking at the inside of the garden shed. Instead, there was a cottage just ahead of us, surrounded by forest. “Where are we?” I said, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.

She gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “Home.”

Matilda stepped through the door, and I followed—and I never once looked back.