Page 57 of Shattered & Returned

I froze. Then fear gave way to awe. The beast was magnificent, obsidian fur rippling over corded muscle, each breath steaming in the cool air. We stared at one another, mutual surprise hanging between us. Apparently, neither of us expected this intrusion.

As soon as the initial shock vanished, I readied myself to kick the beast if those three sets of teeth came any closer. Hecompletely blocked my escape route with his massive frame while I squatted under the desk like a sitting duck.

Yet the expected surge of terror never came, and neither did the attack.

Perhaps it was my affinity with animals, similar to my connection with plants. The hellhound was just another type of animal, wasn’t it?

Stranger still, his presence stirred something in my chest, a recognition that made no sense.

He stood frozen, six crimson eyes wide as ifhewere the startled one. His heads tilted in unison, ears pricking forward with what looked like hesitant delight. At least he didn’t seem interested in making me his next meal.

An irrational wave of affection washed over me. It felt like reuniting with a beloved companion after years apart. It sounded absurd, since I’d certainly remember meeting a three-headed hellhound.

“Hello, boy,” I murmured, keeping my voice soft as silk. The hound remained statue-still, letting me make first contact. “My, what big teeth you have.”

All three heads nodded in unison, then the center muzzle curled into what could only be a grin.

“No biting, and we’ll be best friends,” I offered.

Encouraged, his left head nudged my shoulder. Heat radiated from the contact, not scorching but soothing, like glowing embers on a cold night.

I reached out cautiously and scratched under his chin. His fur felt like silk over tempered steel. A thunderous purr rumbled through my hand, vibrating up to my elbow.

“You’re breathtaking. Do you know that?” I smiled at him. “I’d feel safer with you watching over me. Maybe then the dead would stop visiting my dreams. Maybe those aren’t dreams.”

Twin plumes of hellfire flickered from his nostrils. The sight sent a jolt through me. Orren had exhaled smoke like that once. Was this his hound? But why would it be in Ravencrux’s study.

“You won’t tattle, will you?” I crooned, fingers working the spot between his ears. “I was just, ah…looking for milk. Definitely not snooping.”

The hellhound made a sound between a cough and a snort, undoubtedly laughing at me. Two heads tilted, inviting me to scratch between them, while the third remained fixed on the door, ever vigilant.

“Don’t give me that look,” I chided mockingly, scratching between his ears. “You may not need milk, but I was raised on a French farm. Milk was my daily dairy.” My fingers worked through his silken fur as I rambled on. “Being mostly vegetarian, I rely on milk and eggs for protein. Milk is in short supply in this school, and no one even adds milk to their tea or coffee here.” I shook my head in disapproval. “I thought if anywhere had a secret stash, this penthouse…”

It felt so natural to talk to the beast. The words tumbled out with surprising ease, as if we’d shared countless conversations like this before, him lounging by my garden beds while I tended the herbs.

My garden.The memory pierced like a thorn. Would I ever see it again? Live to see twenty?

The hound chuffed again, definitely laughing. His center head suddenly nudged my hand, then dragged a tongue across my knuckles. The sensation reminded me of heated sandpaper.

“Your tongue could file wood, boy,” I yelped, shaking my stinging hand. “I’m not as tough as you, you overgrown puppy.”

All three heads immediately recoiled, six crimson eyes widening in what could only be mortification.

The realization struck.Shit,this wasn’t just a magical creature. This wastheguardian of the Underworld, and he understood every word.

“Mind letting me out? It’s a bit crowded under here.”

The hound immediately backed up, settling onto his haunches with eerie grace. As I scrambled out from beneath the desk, limbs stiff, face burning, his sheer size became apparent. Even seated, his shoulders nearly brushed my collarbone; fully erect, those three heads would loom over me like sentinels.

“You’re brilliant,” I breathed, unable to suppress my awe. “And far kinder than your reputation suggests.” The middle head dipped at the praise. “But if you’re here, your master can’t be far. I gotta go now.”

His middle head inclined slightly as he considered my words. Then he shifted sideways, clearing a path to the door. Six crimson eyes tracked my hesitant steps, their gaze heavy with something I couldn’t name.

At the threshold, I turned back. The hellhound stood motionless, watching me wistfully. “Thank you,” I whispered, then slipped into the hall.

My pulse hammered, but not from fear. That creature had chosen gentleness when he could have chosen violence. Hadrecognizedme in some fundamental way.

As I fled down the spiral stairs, my heart pounding, my ribs hurting, those dead women’s faces floated behind my eyelids. Their empty stares would haunt my dreams tonight, I was certain. But for now, one question burned brighter—Why did the hound feel like my familiar?

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