Coven of the Raven: box set

by Shona Husk

  “It’s possible. And it’s theoretically fairly simple, but it needs a big power kick.”

  In that moment, she understood what he was planning as easily as if he’d told her in detailed steps. The light that kept the fog away from her mind was just the start. Her desire for Oskar and his for her was what was protecting her from the worst of Thomas’s spell. It’s why she’d retained her mind even after he’d cut her. Oskar was weakening him with every kiss he gave her. Had it been the same for Charlie and her? Had Thomas felt the lust and the need to stop it before it broke his spells?

  “A power kick…like all the death magic here. You would suck it up before he can, and change it so he can’t touch it.”

  Oskar nodded. “There are risks, it’s a lot of power to control and I can’t imagine he is going to sit back and do nothing. Then there’s the risk of spontaneous combustion—”

  “And the baby.”

  “The baby is the goal; defeating Thomas is the by product. Magic is about intent. I can’t go against him thinking of death, that is his strength.”

  She nodded; playing to Thomas’s strengths would never work. He was too strong, even she could see that. “So you play his opposite.”

  “Yeah.”

  She leaned against the kitchen counter, the glass of blood-stained water next to her. “You realize how that sounds, right?” And yet how much sense it made. If anyone had told her this all those years ago, she’d have laughed and told them to stop being silly. She remembered brushing off Charlie’s concern about Thomas being insane. How blind had she been?

  He nodded. “That’s why I didn’t want to write it down. I wanted to be able to talk to you. Plus I wanted to hear your voice.” He smiled and brushed his thumb over her lip before letting his hand fall away. “I also needed your consent, otherwise I’d be as bad as him.”

  “What if I don’t want a baby? I’ve never even had a chance to be me.” And yet she and Charlie had been thinking marriage and babies, but it seemed like another life—it was a lifetime ago—and she’d been a different person then. Unscarred by magic or knives.

  “I know, and I’ve considered all of this. If you want to leave, leave now. I’ve been preparing for my death since I was fifteen. I’m glad I learned to live a little before I meet my Goddess on the other side.” His expression gave nothing away.

  And yet she could hear the hardness in his voice, one he couldn’t quite hide, as if he’d prepared these words to say to her and was reading from a script he didn’t want to follow. He was giving her the chance to flee and never look back, something she’d only ever dreamed of, but the price would be his certain death. If she left him here to face Thomas and the curse, she’d be as bad as the man who’d trapped her. She couldn’t condemn Oskar. Not when he’d risked everything to help set her free.

  “What will happen to me and the baby after you are free?” What kind of life could she make for a child created from death magic? What would the child be like?

  “I’ll do the right thing by you.”

  While that was noble, she wanted more than just a ring and security. She wanted love. She’d had it once and had been willing to risk Thomas’s wrath for it, and had paid the price. Now here she was again, preparing to risk everything on a chance at freedom, yet she barely knew Oskar.

  “And if we weren’t using magic to make a baby, would you make the same offer?”

  “I want the chance to get to know you better.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing back the long strands that hung around his face. “If we’d met some other way, we’d have longer to get to know each other and fall in love before making the big decisions. Here everything is fucked up, but I can’t set you free and then leave you to flounder. The world has changed a lot.”

  That didn’t settle her doubts. It was too soon to be doing any of this. But then that hadn’t stopped her from jumping into his bed just to feel alive—she’d been drawn by that spark that cut through what Thomas did to her. And when she was free, would she still feel it? They were doing everything around the wrong way. “What if I don’t want to marry you?”

  He glanced away. “Then you don’t have to. These days plenty of women have children on their own. My mother raised me without my father after he died. The coven will make sure you are okay for money.” He didn’t sound happy. “I’d like a chance after this, Mylla. But I realize you may want nothing to do with magic.”

  He seemed to have thought of everything, given her an out so that she never had to see him again. All she had to do was say yes and they could both walk out of here free. Together or separately? And she’d be pregnant with his child. It was such a big jump her mind almost didn’t make it. But she didn’t need to, before she even thought about walking out the door there was still the problem of defeating Thomas and saving Oskar from his death curse, as well as saving herself from becoming Thomas’s silent slave again. One thing at a time.

  “What do we do next?” Her voice was quiet, knowing she was making plans that could all end in ruin when she could be running out the door and never looking back. But if she did that she’d never be able to live with herself, and her second chance would mean nothing.

  “Well…” He looked at her and his eyes were full of that wild, untamed heat, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. “We have a bit of time before he gets back.”

  “And then?” She needed to know what they were going to do and what to expect. She needed to do something.

  “Then we have to wait until the dinner.” That wiped the hunger off his face.

  “Why? Why can’t we act now?” They were so close, she wasn’t sure she could wait.

  “He has to be there. He’ll have created a circle and started drawing up magic to trap me in stone. He won’t be expecting an attack.”

  She closed her eyes, but she knew what he wasn’t telling her. He had to say it.

  “I’m going to have to put the necklace on again to keep up the charade. I’m sorry.”

  Not as sorry as she was. “I can’t. What if it all goes wrong? I’ll be stuck forever.”

  The idea of tasting freedom only to have it snatched away was almost too much for her to even think. It hurt as though her heart was being crushed. But he was right—acting too soon would do no good. If Thomas had to start drawing magic, they had to wait. They wouldn’t get a second chance if it went wrong.

  “I’ll make a failsafe. A spell you’ll remember.” He pointed at the glass of bloody water. “I can lace it with magic and put it in a bottle. Then all you’ll have to do is use it next time he is out of the house.”

  “You can do that, bottle magic?”

  He gave a slow nod. Just how powerful was he? Or was that just normal for a witch? “I’m not ready to put it back on.” She knew she’d never be ready, but that she’d do it anyway.

  She stood on her tippy toes and kissed him. She needed to burn one more time. And this time she’d be free and unworried, and she’d make sure she remembered forever, regardless of what happened. “So how big is this circle?”

  Oskar placed his hands on her hips and lifted her onto the kitchen counter. “We don’t need that much room.” His hands slid under her skirt and up her legs as he kissed her.

  She wanted him, despite what he was and what he would do. She was sure she was no longer falling, but had fallen. But she didn’t want to trap him in marriage just because he felt like he needed to do the right thing. On the other hand, spending some time getting to know him and learning how the world had changed sounded like a really good idea. His hands crept higher and brushed the fabric of her bloomers.

  “We can’t do this here.” But her body didn’t care, his touch sent spirals of heat through her blood and made her belly tight with longing.

  “Sure we can…then every time you cook you will remember.”

  Her cheeks heated. She’d never been this bold with Charlie. There’d been only a couple of times, in the shed or late at night in her room, both of them hoping the other
servants wouldn’t report their behavior.

  He kissed down her neck and along her collarbone to the tops of her breasts. “But we probably don’t have time to get naked.” He said it like it was a bad thing.

  “That’s okay.” The light was too bright and he’d see her scars, not that he hadn’t already, but they weren’t very appealing. Did he really want her or was she just a means to end his curse?

  She placed her hand on his arm and he glanced up. The question that had been formed melted away. No one could fake the look in his eyes, the raw hunger that wanted to set her alight with lust. He wanted her, now in the kitchen. And she wanted him. For the moment it was simple and she wished things could stay that way for longer. “Then how are we going to do this?”

  His hand tugged the waistband of her underwear, and then she was lifting her hips to let him pull them off. This was so improper, and fun. Oskar was right, every time she was in the kitchen she’d be thinking of something other than cooking.

  He slid her underwear over her shoes and then put them on the bench beside them. His other hand was under her skirt and between her legs. She gasped and wriggled and moaned as his fingers slid over her slick skin and dipped into her.

  “I like to hear your voice,” he whispered in her ear. He licked the curve of her ear and nibbled on the lobe while his finger did wicked things inside of her. It felt so good. “Come for me.”

  She squeaked; he didn’t just say that! But he had. He wasn’t worried about what was right and wrong, only what felt good right now. “Say it again.”

  His fingers circled and teased, making her heart beat faster. He kissed her. His lips feathered over hers. “What? That I want to hear you come?”

  “Yes.” Her breath caught, she was close.

  His tongue flicked against hers and for a moment she imagined it was his mouth between her legs creating the sensations that made her skin too sensitive. She gasped as the release rolled through her.

  She heard his zipper and didn’t resist as he brought her closer to the edge of the counter. Her dress was in the way, so she tried to tug it clear. Being naked had advantages. With the clothing pushed up, she wrapped her legs around his hips. If she moved much more than an inch, she was going to fall off the kitchen counter.

  “Lean back a little.” He moved her hips as she took her weight on her hands.

  Then she felt the hard heat of him near her entrance. As he eased forward, she moaned, a very unladylike sound. But it was hers, her voice, and she was enjoying everything he did to her.

  The luxurious heat built again as he moved inside her. Her nails curled against the counter. She closed her eyes so she could hold onto every second of it. Her breathing came in hard little pants. “Mmm.”

  “You’re close again.”

  She didn’t even have time to answer. Her own sounds of pleasure were matched by his. So different to the strangely silent moments they’d spent together last time. And this time he didn’t pull out, he remained inside her. Locked together, neither of them moved. She didn’t want to move, and she was sure her legs wouldn’t be able to take her weight. Not yet anyway.

  Gradually her heartbeat settled. He kissed her again, then drew away. Her body missed him immediately. When she opened her eyes he was doing up his pants and then handing over her underwear.

  She took them from him and tried to find something to say. “I wish we had more time.” It wasn’t what needed to be said, but Thomas could be back soon and they needed to be ready, not caught out. There was only one way to buy more time, and that was to get rid of Thomas.

  “We will, just not now.” He helped her into her bloomers and then helped her down. “We should get ready for his return.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Please say something.” He touched her cheek, then cupped her chin so their gazes met.

  “Don’t forget to make the spell so I can take the necklace off.” She didn’t add in case it all went wrong, but she was sure he knew.

  He flinched and tried to hide the look of pain, but it was echoed in his eyes. “I won’t. I’ll leave it in the spice rack for you tonight.”

  “Thank you, Oskar.” She realized that was the first time she’d said his name aloud. He looked surprised, too. So she tried it out again. “Oskar the witch.”

  “Yeah, don’t go spreading that around. We have to be very careful.”

  “I will be.” She took a breath and straightened her shoulders as if drawing up the mask, ready to play at being the good maid. She gave him a single nod.

  Oskar picked up the necklace and placed it around her neck. Nothing happened. No fog and no restriction. She raised one eyebrow.

  “Blood, remember.” He dipped his finger in the water and ran it around the chain.

  She knew the moment he was done as she was back by the lonely lantern surrounded by fog. Her body felt alien, as if it wasn’t truly her own, and all she could think about was cleaning the lounge room.

  He looked at her, sadness in his eyes. Then she heard the hiss and something in the air changed. Oskar silently gathered up the water and the tea towel, as if the moments they’d shared had never happened. That was how it had to be for a few more days.

  Then she would be free and Oskar would be safe. And Mr. Quigley would be dead.

  Chapter 14

  As much as Oskar would rather be painting the pergola, Thomas wanted the orchard cleaned up, ready for his new statue. But even the knowledge that he was cleaning his own grave, so to speak, couldn’t dampen his mood. Mylla had agreed to his plan.

  More than that, though, he’d managed to get the damn necklace off and put it back on.

  She’d said his name.

  She’d spoken to him for the first time. Her voice was husky from lack of use, but it had still sounded sweet to him. He’d wondered what she’d sound like, and he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of hearing her talk, or sigh, or moan her release against his skin.

  When he’d offered to marry her he’d only been half-thinking of doing the right thing by her, the rest of him was thinking about having her forever.

  The thought jarred. And he stopped midway through sawing off a dead limb from what he thought was an apple tree. Thomas wanted to keep her forever. But Thomas didn’t love her. Maybe he did in his own warped way.

  No wonder Mylla hadn’t jumped at the idea. She was right, she’d never had a chance to just be herself, and now he was taking that away from her.

  “Fuck it.” He went back to sawing with a bit too much enthusiasm.

  She would’ve agreed to whatever he’d said if she thought it was a way to escape. Yet he didn’t entirely believe that. He’d seen the look in her eyes as she’d watched him work. She’d been the one who’d instigated the first time they’d had sex. His body thrummed with tension, as if yesterday’s session in the kitchen hadn’t been enough. For that he was blaming the Morrigu and Her ‘blessing.’

  Since then he’d seen Mylla for only a few minutes when she’d delivered his morning coffee and cookies. They’d been in view of the house, in the orchard. But she’d cast her gaze over the statues, her eyes lingering on naked guy—Charlie, he guessed. Her fiancé.

  If not for Thomas and his meddling in the barriers between life and death, he’d have never met Mylla, she’d have died decades ago.

  Without Mylla, he had no chance of breaking the curse. Without him, Mylla had no chance of getting free. They were in the magic together or dying together. And if they succeeded… He shook his head. He’d never planned on leaving, or living, and now he was planning on being a father. That was more terrifying than Thomas.

  All he had to do was wait for that last meal and focus on what he needed to do—and the spell working. He kept imagining himself walking out of the house with Mylla next to him and hoping he could pull it off. He wished the dinner was tonight. He just wanted to get it done.

  The waiting was a gnawing tension he’d never been good at dealing with. He was ready. There was nothing else h
e could do to prepare.

  While the fog was familiar, it no longer felt indifferent. It was more…alive, as if it was testing her out somehow. Like it wanted to creep up to the light and smother it when she wasn’t paying attention. She kept the shutters tightly closed, and whenever Mr. Quigley looked at her she was carefully blank. She was as empty as she could be, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew something.

  When she took Oskar his morning coffee, she’d virtually ignored him. Now as she wiped fancy crystal glasses clean so they were ready for use, she could feel Mr. Quigley’s gaze on her. She wanted to shudder and get up and move away. But she kept still and continued on as if nothing bothered her. The perfect maid. The good servant she was supposed to be, not the slave wanting to break free of the bindings that held her to Thomas. With everything getting cleaned, the dinner would be soon.

  “How do you think the garden is looking?” He leaned over her and picked up a glass as if to inspect her cleaning.

  How easy would it be to break one and stab him in the neck? The fog twitched but didn’t swallow her thought. There were ways around the orders, as long as she didn’t think directly about what she wanted the outcome to be she could think about stabbing Mr. Quigley as much as she wanted. It was strangely satisfying, cutting him to ribbons but letting him live.

  Would he like to be cut the way he’d cut her? Probably not. She’d tried to count the scars last night, but after one hundred and with more to go on just one arm, she gave up. It was depressing to think of all the years she’d been here, lost in her own mind, not remembering one day to the next, just endless repetition.

  “It looks much neater.” Her voice was carefully level. Not like when she’d spoken with Oskar. Or when she’d been in his arms—she cut the thought off in case the light burned too bright and snuck out the cracks in the shutters.

  “I think you should cook the roast beef tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Mr. Quigley.” That soon? She was torn between elation that it would be over and fear of what that meant. If he was bringing the meal forward, that meant he was worried about what Oskar was doing. Good. Let him feel fear and see how he liked it.